Open The Bilge In The Bucket Drinks All Around

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

Having wiped off enough of his ghost makeup not to cause more of a scene than he already would, Jeshal strode in through the door of the Bilge in the Bucket with his new companions in tow, a theatrical todd and a huge and excitable red panda.

"Feast your peepers, mateys!" he called to the patrons, most of whom probably hadn't a clue who he was after thirty-four years being supposedly dead. "Cap'n Ironclaw has returned! Drinks be on us!"

This at least turned many of the grumpy faces into less grumpy ones and a cheer erupted regardless.

Jeshal swaggered to the bar. "A pint o' yer best cider, good beast. Make that second best. If the scrumpy 'ere be like it was back in my day, I'd be wiggling around the floorboards telling ye I was Princess Worm, haharr!" He looked to @Ruffano Quickwhistle and @Pomodu lu Modokunomulo . "What'll it be?"​

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

By the time they reached the Bilge, Ruffano was drunk...not on alcohol,, but on the sheer absurd joy of riches and friendship.

The door creaked open, and in swept the fox, coat flared dramatically behind him, eyes sparkling with mischief. He took one look at the aftermath of a small scuffle, a slumped stoat snoring softly against a busted table leg and, without hesitation, liberated most of an unattended pie from the table beside the wreckage.

“Your sacrifice is noted, brave baker,” he murmured solemnly, already taking a bite.

He slid onto a stool beside Jeshal and Pomodu like he owned the place and slammed his paw on the bar.

“Pint of your finest!” he declared, bits of flaky crust at the corner of his grin. “Or your strongest rum, I’m feeling brave!”

Because if you couldn’t celebrate a near-arrest, a demonic hug, and getting paid in gold, when could you celebrate?