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Unread 2nd of October, 2009, 06:39
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Ghoul [GM]

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Join Date: Aug 2009
Member: #7644
Location: Pittsburgh
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"Ye wouldna know a vampire if it came in out o' the rain right now an' bit ye on yer scrawny neck, boyo!" The larger of the two arguing men slams his empty mug on the bar, where it is promptly filled with mead by the barkeep.

The younger of the two men, face thin and flushed with too much alcohol, shakes his finger in the other man's face. "Piss off! I've seen one, I have. They're all over the Duchies right now, moving through the empty night streets, and if you're not careful they'll snatch you right up. Of course, they'd probably spit you back."

"What, I hit a nerve, lad? Ye afraid I'll show our li'l guest here exactly how much o' yer knowledge is nothing but hogwash?"

"Two days, codpiece. I was in the Duchies for two bloody days not three weeks ago, and they're so scared of the bloodthirsty bastards up there, jewelers are making a killing designing pendants with essence of garlic vials built in to the…"

"Ahh, bullocks!" the larger man waves his hand dismissively towards the other, mead slopping over the rim of the mug and splattering on the floor. Only Keiron seems to notice. "Ye've been here in town here for over two months, so yer 'current knowledge' of what's happening in the Duchies is less than useless. And everyone knows garlic does nothin' but season the blood for a vampire. When I's a younger man, I met me a vampire…"

"Just 'cause you met a tart with pale skin that resisted your rather limitied charms don't mean she's a vampire. She's just a woman what needs to get out in the sun more, and who obviously has a bit of common sense about her."

This insult on his masculinity brings a fresh roar of protest from the large man, and he jumps into a boastful list of his sexual conquests. The younger man's mother, sisters, and wife all play prominent roles in said list.

Keiron sips his beer, reflecting on the stellar information he'd just gained. It appeared that there may, or may not, be vampires in or around the Hundred Duchies. Also, the Crowing Man was not the drinking hole for the community's local intellects. He vows silently as the argument rages to never ask, "What news?" again.