The Back Alleys of Booty Bay (open)

[jesmotguin]

Booty Bay, The cheerful home of the money loving goblins. At night the moon shines bright for all the goblins to see. At day the cheerful warmth of the sun hits all of the inhabitance making each day worth getting up to. The peaceful sounds of the waves make life peaceful. This feeling is only offset by the hustle and bustle of trade that takes place there. But in Booty bay there is a place where the sun does not shine and the peaceful sounds of the waves do not meet. In this place there is trade but no rules. There are also no bruisers, no witnesses and no reason to be there without a purpose.

If you were to walk in to the back alleys of booty bay you would almost certainly find anything you would need, at a price. An ork lies on the wall with a bag of what could only be drugs. Unknown to him is that they are the reason his skin has turned one shade further in to red. In the corner stands a man in a coat. In his coat is there are undoubtedly a large number of gems. Where they came from is a mystery but they do seem to be quite cheap. An of course there is that undeniable smell of concoctions brewing close by. The bruisers of booty bay dare not go there but the residents of booty bay are not fools. They very well know the business of strangle thorn exports.

[Laron]

Wearing the mask again, Laron makes his way to the balcony above the alleyway. Landing softly, he quietly walks to Garrett’s shop.

“Well whatdayaknow, Sly?”

“Ravenshank, aven’t seen ya in some time. Ow buisness?”

“Well as can be. You got anything I might be needen?”

With a sinister smirk Sly looks at the, would be Troll. “Well… that depends on the price…”

“Now Sly, you know I have only one real addiction, and it aint what you carry… I need two bags of Det Dust, and a case of vials… Do ya got any crystal ones, the glass ones tend to break when you have to roll on them.” The man nods and starts to put together his order, all the while taking notice of the new swords hung from Ravenshank’s hip.

“Business seem to treat you well these days, eh?”

Laron’s glowing eye narrow. “It keeps me fed…” With that he slaps the coin down on the table, puts his goods in pack, and turns for the door.

[redflare]

Redflare crashes to the hard deck outside the Booty Bay pub as a high pitched, squeaky voice yells after him.

"And stay out!"

As he drags himself to his feet, a Tauren in black robes approaches him, pulling him up by his shoulders, and dragging him through the streets.

"That's the third time you have been thrown out of there, Captain.. Shouldn't you find something better to do with your free time?"

The rogue gives a weakened grin from under his mask, and raises a gloved hand to his head, giving off a low moan.

"Wuh... Wuh ah ja doin' hea'h, Luh'stahan? Ah tought Ah toh'l ja ta steh' wit da ship."

The young Druid responds with a feral laugh, throwing the Rogue over his shoulder despite his protests.

"I knew you would be up to no good while we were docked here, Captain. Besides, Dolphael is taking care of the crew as we speak." He replies with a heavy sigh.

Grumbling to himself, Redflare hangs limply over the Tauren's broad shoulders as he is carried through the nearby alley, and propped upright on a crate. Lustuhan hands him his waterskin, shaking his head solemnly as his captain takes a heavy drink. "What will come of you if you keep this up, Captain? I feel like your guardian from all the trouble I have to get you out of..Didn't you have parents?"

The Rogue lowers his gaze, sighing heavily as he hands the waterskin back to the Druid. "...Ah'd radduh nah tah'k abou' it..."

The Druid made no response, but continued to mend the Rogue's wounds, keeping his eyes cast towards the twisted planks of the dock.