Open The Bilge In The Bucket Under His Wing

[Chokra Rustfire]

Chokra had been bar hopping for the past few days. He had no success in finding Silvertongue. Now Madame Lorelei had up and disappeared. He was essentially a fish lost in a vast and confusing sea, but he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to drink. He walked into yet another seedy bar, as if he owned the place, and he looked around. The customers were the usual sort. Rummies, the lot of them. Rats and stoats and weasels, a ferret or two. The only other foxes were the barkeeper and a young vixen in a modest dress, serving drinks.

Chokra shook his head, walking up the the bar and settling down in a seat. He pulled two things from his jacket. First, a pawful of gold coins, and secondly, an old and yellowed piece of parchment paper.

"I need two things." He said in a low voice. "I need your strongest drink, and any information you might have on this young lad." He placed the paper down, revealing a family portrait. The sketch was of an older male and female fox along with their son. Chokra pointed to the young todd in the picture, who was wearing fancy clothing. "Lads' name is Silvertongue. He might have done a bit of performing around here. I'm his uncle, you see, and I'm worried about him."

 

[Corda & Cordan LeConte]

The stoat bartender leaned in, scrutinizing the picture. "Ain' seen 'im myself," he commented, "but I 'eard there's a fox wot's been playin' the circuit around town. Supposed to be not 'alf bad. 'Course, we get a lotta performers like 'at around 'ere. It's the bloody Vulpine Imperium, mate, ya can't swing a dead mouse by its tail without hittin' a fox."

Corda, finished with passing out her round of drinks, came back to the bar with a tray laden with empty mugs and steins. She still had to hold it by two paws; she didn't trust her balance enough yet to dare attempt it with one. She set her tray down as she looked at the picture. "I think I've seen him in the Bilge in the Bucket before," she commented. "He likes to wear blue, doesn't he? Unfortunately everyone from across the city goes to the Bilge, so it doesn't say much about where he might be." She leaned in, looking at his face before musing, "He is handsome, though. I'm sure my brother would find him very attractive."

"Well, don't go bringin' yer brother 'round 'ere," the bartender warned. "We ain' that kinda establishment." He reached under the bar and brought out a bottle of Kohler's Klear Water, as the aging label proclaimed it to be. A small note on the label warned not to open it within ten feet of open flame. "This is the strongest we got," the bartender noted. "I mostly just keep it in case I need to strip the varnish on the bar to get a stain out. You want stronger, you'll have to go up to Innovation an' try t' bribe one a' them beasts inta givin' you some Red Stuff. I 'eard you can get a thimble full for a 'undred piece."

 

[Chokra Rustfire]

"The Bilge, eh?" Chokra noted with an eyebrow raised. "Thanks for that, little lady." Chokra flipped a gilder in her direction before slipping the picture back into his jacket. He reached over and took the bottle of Kohler's, pouring himself a glass. Without hesitation, he downed a shot of it. Slamming the glass down, he gasped and shook his head. "Hell's Teeth! That's got a damn good kick to it!"

He went to pour another glass, when he noticed some of the other patrons staring at him. "What's this, then?" He turned to them. "Yew lot have an issue with me?"

Chokra realized that they were staring at the bottle. "Oh, this? What, do ye expect me to share? Oh, drinks all around, eh?" He laughed in their faces. "Sorry, I only pay fer my own drinks!"

 

[Corda & Cordan LeConte]

The bar had indeed grown quiet as various patrons stood up, glaring at the fox. The bartender spoke up from behind him. "Tradition is, newcomers buy the bar a round, old man. Don't reckon you wanna spit on our traditions around here."

The vixen waitress, her eyes widening, rushed to exclaim, "I can cover his round -"

"Nah, Corda," the bartender dismissed her without even a glance. He was polishing a glass stein that looked like it had surprisingly sharp edges around its base. "It ain't about the drink, it's about respect, an' this old man better learn to pay it." Nearly the whole bar was on their footpaws now, forming a dense crowd between Chokra, the waitress, and the doors.