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C’mon, you reply, giving the Skog an amicable smile as you wrestle your drink free of Tzah-Tzie’s wicked clutches, there’s no way she’s <span class="mu-i">that</span> old!
“HAH!” Roars Ma, slapping the counter hard enough to bend it as she lets loose a belly laugh that dwarfs Volka’s in comparison, “You’re alright, ya’ know that, kid?”
If she says so, you reply with a polite laugh! She’s right, though–Volka mentioned she had some kind of <span class="mu-b">JOB BOARD</span>?
“Ant’s gotta make some bells, Ma.” Explains the <span class="mu-i">original</span> Skog as the new one plants a fresh <span class="mu-r">BRITZO-</span> err, <span class="mu-b">ANTON</span> in front of her, “Dad’s gonna help him out, so-”
“Oh?” Ma interjects as she raises an eyebrow, “Well imagine that–grumpy ole’ bastard’s helping people again, huh? Maybe that comet wasn’t such a bad omen after all!”
“<span class="mu-i">MA!</span>”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding…” Groans the bartendress as Volka angrily slaps her tail against the floor and shakes half the bar! “Still, you musta’ made a good impression on Volkir if he’s willing to help you get home.”
You open your mouth to respond, but stop midway as your brain finishes processing her words! How did-
“Gimme some credit, kid. Lost look on yer’ face? Weird scent? <span class="mu-i">Manners</span>?” Ma scoffs as she takes another swig from her tankard. “I knew you weren’t from around here the minute Volk dragged ya’ in. Not ta’ mention you’d have to be three kinds of desperate to ask that mangy prick for help-”
She uh, she knows Volkir, then?
“<span class="mu-i">Intimately.</span>” Ma replies as she leans on the bar. “Not that <span class="mu-i">he</span> seems to remember, mind. Could’ve at least paid his tab…”
“Maaa, just tell him about the boaaaard!” Groans Volka as she licks the booze suds off her tusks!
“Yea, yea… it’s right over there.” Following the one-eyed Skog’s gaze, your nostrils pick up a faint, but distinct scent–some kind of incense?
“Just follow that scent and you’ll find the board–that’s how it works everywhere, really.” Explains the bar matron as she idly clicks some unseen claws on the bar. “Watch yer’ step on the way over for any nappers… oh, and don’t take any jobs from anyone called <span class="mu-b">Yiba.</span>. Don’t ask.”
… why shouldn’t you take an-
“Trust me, you <span class="mu-i">don’t</span> wanna know!”
“Isn’t that the-”
“<span class="mu-s">VOLKA.</span>”
“Sorry!”
Fair enough…
>CONTD.
