Mar. 16th, 2012

umgekehrt: A gauntfaced man, from neck up, looking at camera with an ironic smile.  Has yellow eyes, scar bisecting left eye. (Says the officer)
[The image opens on a grinning, ruined face, framed in the background by a cat-o-nine hanging over a shelf of bottles.]

So many old faces returning to Port! Welcome home, gentles and all good souls.

Come by the Lash, if you're after a good drink and a decent meal. A free drink for anyone who can land themselves on Commodore Perfect Prefect's list of shame in the first day home!

[This is par for the course for old Stoneface Stildyne; he's always advertising, always luring travellers to his tavern, 'the Lash.' (Where there's rum, among other things.)

And it could be a good deal worse; it's certainly on the bawdier, grimier side of things compared to Iroh's establishment, but it's safe enough. Ladies can drink unmolested; men will escape with no worse than a goosed bum, and since Simone signed on as cook the food's actually worth the eating. There's music now, too, and fortunes told, courtesy of Felix and Arkady.

Don't try to rob the place. Stoneface may be a deserter, but he didn't abandon his aim with a flintlock, or the muscles of a seaman. Just because he limps doesn't mean he can't kick your arse halfway across the town.]

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