Post by Scarletta Deveraux on Aug 1, 2013 6:46:00 GMT -5
With all the fancy games and contests catching the attention of most of Sarkotos, Scarletta figured it was a good time to ply her less than honorable con games away from the hustle and bustle of the arena. After all, especially after that freak snowstorm incident, the lass figured the city watch was really going to be keeping an eye and ear on everyone and anyone that stuck around for the rest of the competition. While it was a touch disheartening to miss out on the boat races, which would have been her strong suit, the redhead pirate took a bit of a trip into Westwend to be on the lay for any opportunity that might just fall into her greedy little hands.
That all too familiar scent of sea air was a bit refreshing in truth, as much as she had cursed the oceans all that time she had been adrift before washing up in Arith. While the town itself seemed a bit more neat and clean than someone of her repute might enjoy, it was like at least somewhat off the grid from Navahla, and it didn’t bear the seedy stigma, and moreso, competition that she might get in a place like Canterley Lows. For all she knew, she was already carrying a target on her back from her previous run in with some street thugs there. Now that she had an idea location to be left to her own devices, all she needed was…well, an opportunity to make the most of.
Of Crimson Tides: [Gather Info Check]
Of Crimson Tides: [DC10 + d10]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 10-sided die: 6
Of Crimson Tides: [DC 16]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 20-sided die: 13
Of Crimson Tides: [13 + 3 Charisma + 3 You're Shitting Me! = 19/16 - Success!]
Stopping a random passerby in the street, Scarletta would hit him up for the lowdown on Westwend, looking for a watering hole to have a few drinks, kick back, and find herself a mark. The gentleman would point her towards a rather small upstart business, that was probably more of a seaside shanty bar than even a half respectable business. Still, not one to be picky about it, the lass would give a crooked smile and nod in return, before heading off to the little pub.
One glance around, however, was enough to make her want to change her mind right then and there. The damn place could at most cram in a dozen or so customers, and was trying to pass of some sort of cheesy ocean theme, with crab shell and coconut fashioned mugs, and a menu featuring three total food items, which seemed to change day to day based on availability. Sure, to your run of the mill tourist or noble who wanted to tell stories about slumming, the place might have had a hint of appeal. And while Scarletta herself was hardly a chooser, and would probably drink liquor out of a stinky old boot if she had to, this place just…annoyed her.
“So, ya fancy yerself a seaside tav’rn er a portside bar, do ya? Me say ya be a blasted buffoon with yer nancy-ass prissy ass décor an’ themes. Me’d wager ya ain’t never been out ta sea far enough ta lose sight o’ land, ya prissy bastard!”
The owner of the small-time business immediately frowned as the feisty lass had the gall to walk into his establishment and shoot her mouth off about the place, coldly responding to her little rant.
“Well, you drunken fish of a woman, if you don’t like it here, you’re welcome to drink someplace else. I don’t have to put up with your lip, nor do I want to subject my patrons ----“
“WHAT patrons, ya yeller liver’d carp!? There only be me an’ six others here!”
Granted, there were only three patrons on hand…but the pirate lass was already in full swing of goading this guy into a wager he would certainly regret making. Even with the room and free drink at the Heart, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to enterprise a little by swindling someone out of their livelihood. She would just nod at the puzzled look on the man’s face, before continuing to berate him.
“Tell ya what, mister I-prolly-borrow’d-money-me-can’t-pay-back-ta-th’-lenders-ta-open-this-dump. It be yer lucky day. Me wager me can drink yer ‘stablishment dry by meself. If ye win, me pays th’ tab in full an’ then some. If me wins, then me takes yer business over…ya still get ta tend th’ bar so me don’t put ya out on beggar’s row, but me gets ta be th’ new manager. Whadaya say ta that, ya turtl’ headed skeever!?”
Of Crimson Tides: [Bluff Check]
Of Crimson Tides: [DC d20 + d10]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 20-sided die: 2
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 10-sided die: 10
Of Crimson Tides: [2 + 10 = 12]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 20-sided die: 9
Of Crimson Tides: [9 + 3 Charisma + 5 Charlatan +3 You're Shitting Me! +1 Bluff Necklace = 21]
Of Crimson Tides: [21 to 12, Bluff successful!]
The bartender, already rather irritated with the woman, had been about to throw her out, before hearing her crazy wager. He thought about it for a good long while, before replying.
“How do I know you’ll pay up?”
In response, Scarletta would produce a handful of coin, along with that Gold Ring she had stolen from a corpse not long ago to show she certainly had the means of paying her tab and then some.
“Well matey, if me passes out, me ain’t gonna be able ta stop ya from helpin’ yerself ta me pockets. As ya see, me can put me coin where me mouth is. So…are ya in or are ya yeller!?”
Of course, the second the tender agreed to the wager, convinced that no matter HOW hardcore of a pirate or drinker she might be, there was no way she could drink up his entire supply of liquor. Even Scarletta knew that she’d be hard pressed to do so without drinking herself under the table, if she didn’t have that little secret weapon of hers. Hefting out Phineas’ Beer Stein, she would slide it over to him with a hearty laugh.
“Fill me up, mister barkeep. Yer in fer a long night…”
**********************************************************************************
Several bottles and an entire cask later, the lass would let out an obnoxious belch that rattled the walls of establishment, and the eardrums of those who were morbidly interested enough to stick around and watch her fulfill her end of the wager. The owner was looking rather pale and nervous at this point as he filled that stein with the last of his final bottle on hand. Scarletta, ever the sadist, was content to let him sweat and hope against hope that she would just…fall over drunk or dead from all that liquor. She even swooned a bit, playing it off as if the booze was catching up to her, before swinging the tankard towards him in a mocking salute.
“An’….down th’ hatch, mister barkeep! Much ‘bliged ta yer service!”
Dumping the last stein full of booze down her throat with another disgusting belch, she would slam the stein on the counter, leaning back and patting her belly with a smile. As rude, obnoxious and disgusting as her actions were, the bystanders couldn’t help but give a slow applause of disbelief as the poor man just hung his head, trying to just…shrink away and disappear. Taking a few moments to finally stand, Scarletta would head behind the counter to pat the now former owner of the place on the back.
“No hard feelin’s there, matey. Ya ain’t th’ first tavern me drank dry, and ya won’t be th’ last. Me be back tomorra ta make some ‘gestions an’ turn this place inta a more fittin’ business that’ll be profitable. Ya still get ta earn yer wages…and me gets the profits. An’ cross me parts an’ hope ta lie, matey…if ya welch on our wager, me will be serving you up in a turtl’ shell s’prise…me promise ya.”
So, the pirate had carved herself out a little side business to fund her seemingly bottomless greed and lust for wealth, using her unfair advantages and crooked wagers against another hapless sucker. Singing in that catscratching yeowl of a voice all the way back to the Heart, Maria and the others might be surprised when she would arrive and actually..pass up on drinking for once. Well, maybe…but not likely.
That all too familiar scent of sea air was a bit refreshing in truth, as much as she had cursed the oceans all that time she had been adrift before washing up in Arith. While the town itself seemed a bit more neat and clean than someone of her repute might enjoy, it was like at least somewhat off the grid from Navahla, and it didn’t bear the seedy stigma, and moreso, competition that she might get in a place like Canterley Lows. For all she knew, she was already carrying a target on her back from her previous run in with some street thugs there. Now that she had an idea location to be left to her own devices, all she needed was…well, an opportunity to make the most of.
Of Crimson Tides: [Gather Info Check]
Of Crimson Tides: [DC10 + d10]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 10-sided die: 6
Of Crimson Tides: [DC 16]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 20-sided die: 13
Of Crimson Tides: [13 + 3 Charisma + 3 You're Shitting Me! = 19/16 - Success!]
Stopping a random passerby in the street, Scarletta would hit him up for the lowdown on Westwend, looking for a watering hole to have a few drinks, kick back, and find herself a mark. The gentleman would point her towards a rather small upstart business, that was probably more of a seaside shanty bar than even a half respectable business. Still, not one to be picky about it, the lass would give a crooked smile and nod in return, before heading off to the little pub.
One glance around, however, was enough to make her want to change her mind right then and there. The damn place could at most cram in a dozen or so customers, and was trying to pass of some sort of cheesy ocean theme, with crab shell and coconut fashioned mugs, and a menu featuring three total food items, which seemed to change day to day based on availability. Sure, to your run of the mill tourist or noble who wanted to tell stories about slumming, the place might have had a hint of appeal. And while Scarletta herself was hardly a chooser, and would probably drink liquor out of a stinky old boot if she had to, this place just…annoyed her.
“So, ya fancy yerself a seaside tav’rn er a portside bar, do ya? Me say ya be a blasted buffoon with yer nancy-ass prissy ass décor an’ themes. Me’d wager ya ain’t never been out ta sea far enough ta lose sight o’ land, ya prissy bastard!”
The owner of the small-time business immediately frowned as the feisty lass had the gall to walk into his establishment and shoot her mouth off about the place, coldly responding to her little rant.
“Well, you drunken fish of a woman, if you don’t like it here, you’re welcome to drink someplace else. I don’t have to put up with your lip, nor do I want to subject my patrons ----“
“WHAT patrons, ya yeller liver’d carp!? There only be me an’ six others here!”
Granted, there were only three patrons on hand…but the pirate lass was already in full swing of goading this guy into a wager he would certainly regret making. Even with the room and free drink at the Heart, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to enterprise a little by swindling someone out of their livelihood. She would just nod at the puzzled look on the man’s face, before continuing to berate him.
“Tell ya what, mister I-prolly-borrow’d-money-me-can’t-pay-back-ta-th’-lenders-ta-open-this-dump. It be yer lucky day. Me wager me can drink yer ‘stablishment dry by meself. If ye win, me pays th’ tab in full an’ then some. If me wins, then me takes yer business over…ya still get ta tend th’ bar so me don’t put ya out on beggar’s row, but me gets ta be th’ new manager. Whadaya say ta that, ya turtl’ headed skeever!?”
Of Crimson Tides: [Bluff Check]
Of Crimson Tides: [DC d20 + d10]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 20-sided die: 2
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 10-sided die: 10
Of Crimson Tides: [2 + 10 = 12]
OnlineHost: Of Crimson Tides rolled 1 20-sided die: 9
Of Crimson Tides: [9 + 3 Charisma + 5 Charlatan +3 You're Shitting Me! +1 Bluff Necklace = 21]
Of Crimson Tides: [21 to 12, Bluff successful!]
The bartender, already rather irritated with the woman, had been about to throw her out, before hearing her crazy wager. He thought about it for a good long while, before replying.
“How do I know you’ll pay up?”
In response, Scarletta would produce a handful of coin, along with that Gold Ring she had stolen from a corpse not long ago to show she certainly had the means of paying her tab and then some.
“Well matey, if me passes out, me ain’t gonna be able ta stop ya from helpin’ yerself ta me pockets. As ya see, me can put me coin where me mouth is. So…are ya in or are ya yeller!?”
Of course, the second the tender agreed to the wager, convinced that no matter HOW hardcore of a pirate or drinker she might be, there was no way she could drink up his entire supply of liquor. Even Scarletta knew that she’d be hard pressed to do so without drinking herself under the table, if she didn’t have that little secret weapon of hers. Hefting out Phineas’ Beer Stein, she would slide it over to him with a hearty laugh.
“Fill me up, mister barkeep. Yer in fer a long night…”
**********************************************************************************
Several bottles and an entire cask later, the lass would let out an obnoxious belch that rattled the walls of establishment, and the eardrums of those who were morbidly interested enough to stick around and watch her fulfill her end of the wager. The owner was looking rather pale and nervous at this point as he filled that stein with the last of his final bottle on hand. Scarletta, ever the sadist, was content to let him sweat and hope against hope that she would just…fall over drunk or dead from all that liquor. She even swooned a bit, playing it off as if the booze was catching up to her, before swinging the tankard towards him in a mocking salute.
“An’….down th’ hatch, mister barkeep! Much ‘bliged ta yer service!”
Dumping the last stein full of booze down her throat with another disgusting belch, she would slam the stein on the counter, leaning back and patting her belly with a smile. As rude, obnoxious and disgusting as her actions were, the bystanders couldn’t help but give a slow applause of disbelief as the poor man just hung his head, trying to just…shrink away and disappear. Taking a few moments to finally stand, Scarletta would head behind the counter to pat the now former owner of the place on the back.
“No hard feelin’s there, matey. Ya ain’t th’ first tavern me drank dry, and ya won’t be th’ last. Me be back tomorra ta make some ‘gestions an’ turn this place inta a more fittin’ business that’ll be profitable. Ya still get ta earn yer wages…and me gets the profits. An’ cross me parts an’ hope ta lie, matey…if ya welch on our wager, me will be serving you up in a turtl’ shell s’prise…me promise ya.”
So, the pirate had carved herself out a little side business to fund her seemingly bottomless greed and lust for wealth, using her unfair advantages and crooked wagers against another hapless sucker. Singing in that catscratching yeowl of a voice all the way back to the Heart, Maria and the others might be surprised when she would arrive and actually..pass up on drinking for once. Well, maybe…but not likely.