The Cart (Open)

[Franky]

Ash 28, 121

Franky had a bottle of mead in hand, tossing the cork up and down in the other, as he watched the cart pulled by the highland horses made its way up the road toward him. There was a small crowd of people who often came around for lunch at the tavern waiting with Franky. "Looks like our ride's here lads." A small cheer went up from them, "Last chance to grab a bite or a piss before hoppin' on."

Franky took a long pull on the mead, turning to see some heading in for food, and others heading down the nearby alley to relieve themselves. Several of the people here he knew were familiar with the Imperial ways, but there were a few unfamiliar faces. "Alright, for those of you new to this, it's a fun little tradition from back home in the Imperium. It's originally a way of honoring the merchants and guards and the like that helped fuel the supply lines of the Imperial March. Everyone knows that soldiers fight and die in war, but often the traders, the messengers, those that kept us with full bellies and delivered the letters from our loved ones, those were just as important, if not more. Many of these heroes died too, and they didn't do it solely to chase the profiteering that comes with war, no. They did it because they believed in our way of life, they believed in our people, and they believed in each of us."

Franky turned, gesturing at the cart that was nearing, "So on this day, we drink to honor those we lost and those we still have. Each of you will pay a gold to ride the cart, and be accompanied by a barrel of something Imperial, bourbon hinted lager this go around. You get as many drinks as your heart desires as we do our lap through town. If you exit the cart, by any reason, you cannot get back on until the cart returns back to here, and you must pay again. And if the cart finishes the lap and there's still beer in this barrel, everyone is kicked off the cart and a new round is started. We will do this until nightfall."

The wagon pulled up, an older elf driving it. "Hey there Jerya, ready?" The man smiled showing off his many gaps in his stained teeth, "Always ready for the Cart." The back of the cart had rectangular bales of hay loaded along the sides of the cart, leaving an aisle in the middle. Franky hefted up the barrel of lager he had sitting near him, placing it into the back of the cart, just behind the driver. Then he pulled out a pouch, "One gold gets you a ride and flagon. Hop on up. We leave in five or when we have a full load, whichever happens first."

Franky then climbed up into the wagon, taking one of the flagons he carried and filling it, handing it over to the driver. "Who's comin?"

[Terra]

Terra had been coming off patrol with her musket slung over her shoulder while her free hand gripped the leather tassel. She wanted a drink and well rumor around the barracks was the Hobbled Gobbler was a good spot for a beer and some kind of chili. She was a firm believer in conceal carrying and kept her cavalry pistol and bayonet that were slung off the hip out of view. The soldiers black cloak draped over her form like a poncho while her signature military cap was fit snug enough to keep people from looking into her ocean blue eyes. While her most formidable asset swung lazily off her neck gleaming in metallic radiance it was just a whistle.

She wasn’t a racist she just couldn’t help but crinkle her pointy little nose in dissatisfaction about how many of these bottom feeders were just looming about free range pissing on whatever they pleased. Disorderly conducts across the board, should she start cracking down on these wretches? What would Myles do? She was faintly blushing at the thought as a smirk crept on her face as the answer had become crystal clear. The specialist saw the apple of her eye in the form of a wagon.

Train!Train!Train! And Train some more.

That’s what Myles would do, maybe if she did the same he might notice her and they could stand as equals as she naively romanticized about the battlefield.

Widening blue eyes saw an opportunity to climb a new plateau and take her marksmanship to the next level. She thought training was the answer

And in the heat of the moment Terra decided she wanted too rent that wagon.

Hi!

Really that’s the best opening you had? she thought as she silently scorned herself.

You certainly have a nice wagon, is there anyway I could get a private tour? The soldier was reluctant at first fighting to be more forthcoming See your set up is perfect to practice shooting from a moving object, I have something to prove to myself and it would mean the world to me. Her hand went into her cloak and emerged with a sizable sack of coins. Got a hundred gold on me if your willing to entertain the idea?

The human soldier was familiar with other races enough to be mindful of how she acted or what she said in public, but even if Franky was a goblin she’d give him a small chance and see what came of it. There were even a few she’d consider friends well maybe not outwardly for fear of reprisals but she certainly held them in high regard in her own little curious way.

[Vincent Wolfgang]

Ash 28, 121

Vincent pushed open the door to the side courtyard and saw Franz waiting on the carriage.

“Hey Vincent, where you off to?” a voice shouted. Vincent took a deep breath and sigh. He continues walking to the carriage. “Raphael, I’m off to the East End.”

“East End or the Knobs?” Raphael asked as he ran up to Vincent and shoved the door to the carriage shut. “You got an elf lover huh? An Orkhan bastard child perhaps?” he said mockingly.

Vincent took a deep breath. “Drink to your heart content for one gold piece.”

Raphael laughed “Nah, you fucking with me right?” he leaned in closer “Like the one you brought last time?”

“Could be the same or could be better. The hobgoblin knows his stuff. The good Imperial stuff.”

“You know what Vince, it would have been easier on my conscience if you told me you got a non-human lover.”

Vincent chuckled. “Raphael, just admit it. You got a drinking problem.”

“One gold piece right?”

“Yeah, one gold piece.”

“Damn you, Wolfgang.” Raphael ponders on the offer. “Wait, I remember now. The major assigned us to assist a business owner with their ‘logistics’ issues right?” he said quite out loud. “Vincent, wait here. Can’t be called an assignment with only the three of us right. Also, have to get some stuff from the armory. Rumor is that there’s a person of interest in the Knobs and the Order’s involved.” Raphael said softly. He then made his way back inside the administrative building.

“Lieutenant, would it be wise for him to come along?” Franz asked

“He would even sell his mother for a keg of beer.” Vincent took out a piece of cigarette and lit it. “Besides, if there’s a small percent of truth in the rumor, it would be best for us to have more people right? Especially people like him.”

Vincent blew a cloud of smoke. Raphael exits the building followed by several other soldiers, all of them were armed, but they use their cloaks to conceal it. Raphael approached Vincent and handed him a three-shot gun. “Never know what would happen in the Knobs right? Animals are unpredictable.”

Vincent grabs Raphael’s coat and pulls him close. “Just don’t go waving your fucking gun around alright? We all know what happen the last time an Orkhan look at you funny.”

Raphael brushed off Vincent’s hands. “It’s all there in the report. That thing was holding a sword. What was I supposed to do?”

Vincent threw his half-burnt cigarette to the ground. “Play nice, or we won’t get our booze.”

Raphael raised his thumbs and smiled mockingly as he get on his carriage. The two carriages then sped out of the courtyard and navigate their way to the Knobs. As usual, Franz parked the carriages not far from the Hobbled Gobbler. The group then made their way to where the crowd is.

“Hey Mr. Franky, still got space on the cart?” he asked as he approached Franky. “Got any new brew? We brought two carriages this time. Franz will be the one in charge of moving the barrels. The boys at the barracks loved it.” He turned toward his fellow soldiers and collected the gold coins and then handed them to Franky.

Raphael was eyeing the crowd carefully. Vincent could see the man tense up and the subtle look of disgust on his face, he knew that Raphael was trying his best to compromise his beliefs and ideals for beer.

Vincent then looked at the female soldier beside him. Hmm, an airman? Nah, they have their bar in the sky or something. Defense Corps perhaps? He thought to himself.“Defense Corps?” He asked Terra.

[Dakkur Doelish]

Despite the teasing manner used to pass on the idea of joining this novel event to Dakkur, the man was also quite aware it was also to drive into him the idea that he had to get out of his room. Not healthy for a young man to only be found at work or at home his aunt would repeatedly say although in her position, surely she would have heard of more interesting schemes for him to dip his toes into and definitely more to offer than a token gold piece to spare for the venture. The briefing- Imperium propaganda which the conflict adverse Dakkur had no interest in whether as a soldier, merchant or guard, was losing him as he ready to return home with whatever excuse he could use to get past disappointing his aunt until...

Right,

The free flowing booze. Not to mention that if the ride really was not to his liking, there is an easy out for him as the goblin said. As he weighed the idea, he thought why not just say he got booted off the cart early and find something actually worthwhile doing but then there was no telling what that woman knew and did not which made it an idea which was not prudent to entertain. And even he would have to admit it was a good opportunity to get to know the city, or this part of the city. Since the goblin was confident the barrel would be finished, he was going to safely assume it was going to be a long enough ride to learn some of the ins and outs of the place which brings the question of "what route we're on? I don't know this place well but I hope we're taking the scenic route" because who knows? Maybe Dakkur would find that new interesting place if this ride was to be the jaunt it seems to be.

Not too difficult, at least compared to the soldier's odd request although being of no concern to just another passenger such as himself meant the ride now came with a show? Now it just became a lot more interesting. Five more minutes did not leave Dakkur with much time and he quickly added his coin to the rest of the goblin's fare before a quick trip into the tavern for a sizable bowl of whatever was The Hobbled Gobbler's choice of snack to last through a night of drinking. While Dakkur doubted he would even need such things to keep himself in drinks, it would at least serve as something to enjoy with the trip- drinks, show and all.

[Franky]

Franky eyed one of the soldiers climbing on and had to keep a laugh to himself. Because she was so clearly a soldier, trying to hide their soldierness with little more than a black cloak lumped over them. There was a clear and distinct point behind her shoulders of what he assumed to be her musket. It didn't matter to Franky, she was more than welcome regardless, it was just amusing the need for the theatrics. Maybe she wanted to have some of the fun that could only be found here in the Knob but was embarrassed by the 'magic races' as they were called here. No skin off Franky's nose if she was a hypocrite and a coward, that was most of the humans in Zaichaer so far. Regardless, their coin spent just as easily.

Franky broke into a wide smile, looking over at Jerya, "Wanna cancel my ride to take this lass shooting?" Jerya looked over his shoulder at her, flashed her a toothy grin at, "Sorry miss, I'm all booked up today. Make an appointment, I'm booked til Earth's Rest. Maybe another time."

Franky chuckled, "You can come for a drink or five, but I can't imagine your superiors would take too kindly to you shooting up the neighborhood. Surely they provide that training for free, yes?"

Then Franky looked up, as the lass hadn't boarded the cart nor paid her way, as others did. Franky saw Vincent on his way, breaking into a broad smile, "Hey there Vince. At the rate you're buyin' I'ma have to open a warehouse, or a brewery for that matter." A chuckle, "Hop on in, plenty of room. Bourbon barrel lager today, mate. Won't disappoint." He could only grin further to see that Vince saw right through the woman's concealing attempt, recognizing her as a soldier immediately. There'd be ribbing later about that one, if Franky's experience in the military were any sort of measure.

To one of the other newcomers that asked about the route, "We're headin' round the Bulge here, down toward the Grunges, back up here by the Copper Cut. Ain't the most luxurious routes, but the more scenic alleyways and the like aren't well suited for wagons as heavy as this one will be. We ain't got the same roads as further west."

He took the lad's coin and saw him dash in for a bowl of goblin pretzels, salty as all hell and far too much onion in the crispy dough, but they were popular. And in short order, the Cart was filled up, to the groans of a few people who showed up late. "We'll be back 'round in an hour or so if you wanna try your luck at securing another spot." Franky filled mugs as needed, and topped up Jerya's as well, "Ready to go, mate?"

"Hyah!"

The reins whipped and the cart lurched forward at a comfortable clip as Franky took a long draw off the beer as well. He looked over at Vincent, "You soldiers breeding like rats or is the cheap booze too good to pass up? I ain't had this many soldiers here since I opened." The ride was comfortable and Franky made no attempt to entertain the entire cart. People were here to drink and they could talk amongst themselves. He refilled any empty flagon presented to him, and had a lazy smile on, as he just relaxed, his old back massaged by the light bouncing over the cobbles.

[Terra]

Did this uppity guttersnipe think he was somehow above her? She seemed to pick up quickly on his patronizing undertone and commentary. She could have been a coward on her own, but soldiers seemed to be pulling in. The funny thing about a coward is sometimes there emboldened when there in a group, thick as thieves she was with the other privates in the defense corps company.

Might not have had a fancy title but she was one of the boys after stepping up and proving her worth against coven witches with sergeant Myles.

Yea they might rib her if she didn’t quip back alright, but they’d certainly take a different tone if Franky wanted to openly disrespect her. Little imp should know his place take her money be thankful his greedy little fingers got what they got and keep his head low and mouth shut.

” Neighborhood?”

The soldier looked around confused after her gold piece parted her hands . She made a mocking display of seeing only people urinating where ever they pleased without a shred of decency with the chuckle of soldiers giving it a perfect touch of ambiance to fill the undertone as she made herself comfortable in the cart.

”Looks like a latrine to me.” she was startled for a minute when Vincent got the better of her and snuck up on her, she nodded toward Raphael who was showing a little disgust at the situation and cracked a joke to try and lighten the mood. ”Don’t tell me we gotta train these beasts to wipe their asses too?”

It was bad enough they lost four night watchman. Now she she had to deal with a filthy creature thinking himself a noble calling his trash heap a neighborhood when his dynasty gave the distinct appearance of not even having a pot to piss in much less a proper shitter. After all if the impudent little imp insisted his rat nest was a kingdom he should back his claim with at least an outhouse.

There was a pause when she came to the realization she’d all but forgotten about the man asking about her military affiliation.

Sorry! Yes Defense Corps, Private First Class Terra. There were whispers among the ranks, of her heroics as they too like her naively romanticized the violence. Mostly embellishments; in the soldiers mind all she did was knock a hole in a thug and throat blasted some archer bitch with a taste of justice when she painted her face with a hot load from her long gun.

There were reports and case files concerning the incident that Vincent may have had access to. A Private First Class Terra and Sergeant Myles managed to survive an ambush and avenge four fallen comrades both injured in the line of duty. Terra was accredited to killing two assailants in a blaze of gun smoke but also sustained scalding injuries when they encountered a witch that managed to escape.

As for the whatever this ... giant ? ....was? Terra dug herself into the cart and gave the tall not so human a good look over as stormy blue eyes blankly evaluated his form her conclusion of what his lineage was; a resounding not a clue a total blank. She didn’t trust him because he wasn’t a human and he wasn’t a soldier, it wasn’t because she was racist not at all.

Terra nursed her mug in her left hand taking time too appreciate the smokey notes of bourbon and oak in the flavor profile that danced around in her palat. Maybe that filthy critter was on to something, maybe just maybe this Franky wasn’t so bad.

The stout is really good!

[Vincent Wolfgang]

Vincent took out a piece of cigarette, he then took the box of cigarettes and offers one to Terra. “Here, something to make the smell more tolerable.”

Raphael snickered at the female soldier’s remarked, he then put his hand around Vincent’s shoulder and leaned in. “Well, well. The girl’s got a point though, if it isn’t for the cheap booze, I wouldn’t be here.” He said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice then turned and looked at Terra “Have you ever seen them wipe their asses?” Raphael snickered. Vincent brushed off Raphael’s hand. He looked at Raphael and blew a cloud of smoke upward.

“What? I’m just stating facts.” Raphael shrugged

Hearing the name of the soldier made something itch in the back of his mind. Like an itch, he couldn’t scratch. Where have I heard the name before? He thought to himself.

“Ah, First Class Private Terra? The one on that mission with Corporal Myles of the Defense Corps?” one of the soldiers chimed in.

Ah yes, from that incident. Vincent thought to himself as he remembered one of the case files that he read while downing a bottle of vodka. No wonder the name’s so familiar.

“First Class Private Terra. Please to make your acquaintances. Thank you Private for your bravery on that day. Gratitude from the families.” Vincent replied with a smile as he looked Terra in the eyes.

It wasn’t an easy job, the men and women of the Defense Corps put their lives on the line. Every day walking out of their door not knowing whether they would be walking back in at the end of the day. It’s painful especially for those with children. Vincent remembered the time that he along with the Major visited a mother and her three children to deliver the news that her husband has been killed in the line of duty.

“I’m Vincent Wolfgang, from the Riverland Corps.” Vincent introduced himself, he wasn’t the type of person to pull ranks unless it’s official business. Which have once or twice landed him in an awkward situation with soldiers from the other Corps.

He then turns to look at Franky and out of habit he offered Franky the box of cigarettes, before realizing his mistake. “Oh yeah, sorry Mr. Franky. I know they’re not as good as those goblin weeds. But if you want one.” He then blows another cloud of smoke and grabs his flagon.

“Bourbon lager? Now that’s a steal. Is one of those barrel-aged ones?” Vincent asked.

Vincent chuckled at Franky’s comment regarding opening a brewery or warehouse. “Well, Mr. Franky, supply and demand, right? Gotta keep it scarce enough so that,” He paused, he almost forgot that Franky was first and foremost a businessman. “Well, you know, for supply and demand purposes, right?” He let out an awkward chuckle before looking at Raphael and his subordinates. He doesn’t want to let Raphael knows that he sold the drinks at higher prices.

Vincent eases in as he leaned back and poured a flagon for himself and pulling it close to his nose and sniff. A grin crept on his face. He then took a sip and swirls the liquid around in his mouth for a few minutes before swallowing it.

“Well Mr. Franky, you never disappoint. Opening a brewery seems like a good idea.”

He then looked at what he assumed was a Moratallen, then he looked back at Franky, then back at the Moratallen. “A friend of Mr. Franky? You’re probably the first Moratallen that I ran into here.” He carefully studied the Moratallen. “How'd you find the city so far?”

He then turned toward Terra, “Hey Private, word around the barracks is that you’re one helluva shot. You use a custom-made rifle or the standard issued one?” Vincent then surveys the area looking for something specific. He spotted a flagon left atop a wooden fence several meters from the cart, there was no one near it.

“Ten gold pieces. That flagon over there.” He pointed at the flagon on the wooden fence and took ten gold pieces out of his pocket. He then took another sip from his flagon.

[Dakkur Doelish]

Could not have expected much from how the Knobs would name their own streets as Dakkur's assumption that those names were those used by the locals based on how easy it is to remember them in their most prominent characteristics because Franky's itinerary did not sound official one bit. If he was right in his assumptions, he was expecting to first reach the most commercialized district with plenty of traffic followed by a shithole he would be glad to be passing through from atop the comforts of the cart and then, a locality specializing in copper? Might be some place useful to know about if was the same as the wax and glass streets back home but was Zaichaer even known for its copperworks? Likely not too important a product for the city if Dakkur did not even have an inkling of it.

But not to sound like he had no expectation of the Knob's or Zaichaer's fine products in this trade inspired ride, Dakkur continued to ask while they were on the subject, "so we got a chance to get to the gift shops on this tour ? Wouldn't mind a copper tankard for me as souvenir for this ride of ours."

Which was not as interesting as the presence of the military stooges he was in now that Franky pointed them out. Dakkur knew, roughly, the characteristic look of Zaichaer's peacekeepers or at least enough of the general appearance of trouble he was taught to avoid but there was no avoiding them now was there? 'So that's a private..." he thought to figure out which was privatey bits of her compared to the not private? While the Moratallen did not know his rank, Wolfgang seemed to be quite pleasant as just another passenger out for a drink and with what he knew of the Riverland Corps, being quite respectable, Dakkur felt it polite to indulge his query and point out that he "don't know Franky, but city nice. In West" which of course goes without saying as even the hobgoblin had implied earlier.

Then picking up on the fact the private's rifle may or may not be special, which could be the show he wanted to see but nonetheless had become something he wanted to observe a little more closely to get a figure of Zaichaer gunsmithing, Dakkur took a fistful of goblin pretzels and catapulted them at the empty flagon in a shower which got one of two in, which was to be expected from how many he had to waste. "That's easy. Do I get the gold? Or should she get a harder target to shoot?" he asked hoping he did not misjudge Wolfgang's friendliness too much.

[Franky]

Franky could only smile and raise his flagon at the insults that PFC Terra felt like flinging at the Knob. He never understood why people felt the need to insult their own city, as she was doing now. She was showing her youth, she was showing how dumb of a soldier she'd allowed herself to be. She was just another fool, who couldn't see a better way out, for she'd been brain washed into thinking that this was the best things could get.

Another lost cause.

Franky happily accepted the cigarette from Vincent, "Thanks mate, a friendly smoke given is the best kind of them all. And aye, barrel aged in the leftover bourbon barrels. Gives that extra bit of kick there at the back end." He lit it up, tossing his roach away of the other. "Scarcity comes with many faces." Franky had learned a lot about how to be withholding and control stock levels to drive up prices. He did it from time to time at the Gobbler, just to test his theories. "And sure, scarcity can drive up the price, but nothing can really ever touch a product that is far superior to others. Twelve bottles worth a hundred each, or ten thousand bottles worth twenty each, spread among all of Karnor and beyond?"

Franky leaned back, taking a long drink of the booze, "A brewery could be fun."

But then Lieutenant Vincent was goading PFC Terra on to show off her shooting skills, here in a residential district. The flagon he suggested sat on a fence, a fence that was around a green area that Franky knew children played in, that teenagers went on picnics in, where adults would go to meet friends and family, an area that had homes behind it. And he knew how far a bullet could fly, he'd seen more than enough of them, caught more than enough of them with his own flesh, to be familiar.

He watched the Moratallen put on a most interesting display, as his own mind weighed the pros and cons. Terra and some of the other soldiers may not care for the Knob or its people, but Franky certainly did. And while he held no rank here, had no clout when it came to these people, he was not a man that could stand idly by while damage could be done to his people. The only real weight he carried was that of coin these days.

"I'll give you fifty gold to leave that gun holstered for the rest of the ride."

He pulled out a small pouch of coins, one of several on his person, and he knew exactly how much was in each one. He held it up so all could see, jingled it to show it was real. He knew it was a risky offer to put out into the world. It could pit Terra's greed against her pride, affect her standing if she answered to the request of a civilian, a Hobgoblin no less, instead of taking the challenge offered by a Lieutenant. But it was the only shot that Franky had at potentially avoiding tragedy here in the Knob. If he tried to physically stop her, he'd be killed, and likely others too, as retaliation or as a warning.

He mentally asked the Goblin King to do whatever he could to get her to choose greed, and to take his coin.

[Terra]

”Fair enough, let’s see what we can do here.”Terra said as she retrieved her musket slung from her back. She kinda nodded at Franky with a toothy smile as her hands became acquainted with the elegant wood stock. Kinda saying without saying that he shoulda taken her money, coulda taken her to the country side so she could run the drill in a secluded safe place. Kinda like being arrogant out here is gonna cost someone something and it was all thanks to the goblin, a coulda woulda shoulda that might leave a family man up all night.

”What between your eyes?” The soldier boisterously barked when what she assumed was a moratallan quipped at her. A few laughs between the boys till it got quiet and suddenly the atmosphere wasn’t so funny anymore as she was still staring him down a bit.

Her ocean blue eyes only broke contact at the satchel Franky removed but brushed the coin off, preferring to let shit simmer as she began to prattle just a little with Vincent about her gear. Make his request seem insignificant or maybe altogether ignored. She wanted to make it clear she was in charge of the situation, he didn’t get to make demands.

”Unfortunately no just a standard issue, still can kill a mage two hundred yards out funny lot wizards are think they can come into battle with nothing more then pasties for armor. I’d love one of those bored out barrels they are far more accurate, the issue is really after a handful of shots you gotta clean out the barrel or your bullets jam. Now officers they get these real nice casters never had my hands on anything that special, but I heard there on a whole different level.”

She seemed to ignore Frankys request a step further as she was feeling the vibrations in her feet as she took a knee and raised her weapon letting other soldiers veer off out of her line of fire. She was taking her time adjusting herself behind the flint hammer getting reacquainted with an old friend.

”Hey Franky keep the cart stable if I miss from this range it’s on you, right boys ? We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt on this exercise now would we?. ”She was keen to cover her ass, yea they’d hold the goblin accountable with a full cart of soldiers willing to say they saw whole thing, it’s right there In the report. Who said life had to be fair, she was familiar enough with the process to know the non human with no military affiliation was her whipping boy so she could mess up and he could take the fall.

Her breathing steadied as she made her calculation trying to factor in vibrations, it’s exactly what she expected a challenging new terrain to hone a new set of techniques. And then her conscience chimed in, what would Myles do and it made her cringe a bit. If the Corporal found out she shot up this slum to prove who was ontop he might think less of her. She cared what he thought about her enough to cause a moral dilemma, and she certainly knew taking the bribe was an issue. But being deemed a piece of shit in Myles eyes seemed to outweigh trying to one up the tavern keeper.

“Say I take this shot and I do hit someone you know how much paper work that is? Besides Myles might break my ass with non stop training. Have you seen him train? Mans a machine, didn’t even use guns went in there like an old school knight and cut those pieces of shit down”As her hand left the trigger she used her thumb and index finger to exaggerate the stack of reports and inquiries that go along with that, in any case even if she hit someone in the knob it was slap on the wrist and a pat on the back on the way out the door. Because Terra could do the crime and poor frankys would do the time. How the corporal viewed her though that was significantly different.

”Figure if I don’t take the shot everyone knows I’ll make anyway, we got ourselves an open bar on the goblins tab.”As she finally brought up Frankys bag of coins, acknowledging it.

”I mean unless it’s an order.”looking back to Vincent

PFC Terra? More like Playing Frankys Card