All sort o' work. An' all sort o' diversion.She got the sense Benji might be suited toward it all, if her pitch hadn't been enough to send the newcomer off at the first.
Sitting back on her haunches, Captain grinned to show off that gold-gleaming tooth.
We've 'hores, bards, cooks, muscle. Folks what hunt bounties in flesh or flashy tings. We trade wit' te local Druids fer... well, stronger drinks'n'seasonin's than ye can easily get elsewhere. If ye've any sorta steam what needs blowin' off, te Howff can arrange it fer ye.
She huffed an enticing laugh,
S'long as yer willin' t'put in tat givin' ye did mention before.
3-3-3 || IC ≠ OOC || Fiction ≠ Reality
I welcome organic IC interactions and any twists, conflict, or drama that comes out of it!
My characters are unreliable narrators.






