In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 26):

"I am in need of a stout pint or two," Clarke replied. "Which devil knows when we may find such luxuries again?"

Lara shook her head at the two men. Clarke had never understood her aversion to drink, but he had respected it when they had been partners. Now, all she could do was watch him sink deeper into sin while trying to keep Satan away from the rest of the world.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 27):

Taking leave of the father and professor you head out of the small restaurant. After asking around, and suffering a few disapproving glares, you are directed to nearby pub named The Innsmouth . A small bell rings as you enter but the barkeep doesn't bother to look up. Due to the early hour the pub is mostly deserted. Aside from the few patrons at the bar seeking the hair of the dog treatment the only other people in the pub are an elderly man and a few barmaids who familiarly chat with the man as they bustle about cleaning and dusting tables.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 28):

Clarke, keeping in mind what the professor had said about the locals, sat at a stool a reasonable distance from the other patrons. He glanced over the liqueur on offer and the specials of the day scrawled on the blackboard. It was likely they had a reasonable amount of time before the expedition party came back, so he was not worried about taking his time.

"It has been a long journey here," he said to Mike. "Let me treat you the first round." He did not pitch his voice but kept it at a reasonable level. If they were listening, he did not need to worry about being overheard. It was already happening.

Mike looked at the menu scrawled in chalk on the blackboard and nodded while taking note of the pub and it's patrons.

"I wonder if they're in the business of shine here. Though the ale looks like it will relieve the stresses of the journey. Much appreciated."

Mike looked at the talkative old man and grinned at the geezer.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 30):

Mike's smile doesn't go unnoticed by the old man. Snatching up a wooden cane he makes his way slowly towards the table you are seated at, his steps halting and short.

"It's always a good time for a pint. That's what me Da told me," the old man says as he eases into an empty chair, taking the smile as an invitation. "But a shame to drink alone right?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:35, Thu 02 Jan 2020.

Mike welcomed the old man with a smile, "Your Pop sounds like wise man. What other words of wisdom did he pass down? Care for another pint?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 32):

The old man's eyes brighten at the mention of a drink. "Oh me Da had a bunch of saying but most not acceptable for good company." He laughs uproariously before suddenly becoming conspiratorial. "So what be our poison lads?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:36, Thu 02 Jan 2020.

Mike chuckled along with the old man. "As I'm sure you're aware, America is going through a bit of a dry spell. What do you recommend?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 34):

"Ah, I pegged you as out of town," says the old man. "Well allow me to introduce you to a Scottish pick me up!" He waves over one of the barmaids. "Isla me love, could you kindly bring us three Auld Man's Milks. On these gentlemens' tab of course." In short order three steins of a sort of pale creamy liquor are brought to the table. The old man quickly grabs one and raises it high. "To another day on God's green earth!" He quickly downs the entire drink before you can even raise yours. Smacking his lips he places the empty stein back on the table. "Folks 'round here call me Zadok, Zadok Allen."

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:00, Thu 02 Jan 2020.

Mike toom a swig of his Auld Man's Milk not sure what to expect, but was surprised at a taste similar to egg nog. He licked his lips in satisfaction. "Damn fine choice, Zadok. I'm Mike and this is my friend Clarke. We're here on some business but thought we could enjoy the day around town since we had time. Maybe find out some interesting stories or tales to bring home to tell our ladies back home." Mike took another drink, enjoying the flavor, "A man such as yourself must know alot of interesting tales about Aberdeen."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 36):

"So you be looking for a tale? Well there be no one better at spinning a yarn then old Zadok. Let me tell you the tale of the Shifty Lad," the old man says. In almost a synchronised dance he lifts his empty stein and it is taken and replaced with a full one by a barmaid.

"In the land of Erin there dwelt long ago a widow who had an only son. He was a clever boy, so she saved up enough money to send him to school, and, as soon as he was old enough, to apprentice him to any trade that he would choose. But when the time came, he said he would not be bound to any trade, and that he meant to be a thief..."

He seems nowhere near close to the end of his story...
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:07, Thu 02 Jan 2020.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 37):

Clarke let the man continue his tale uninterrupted. However, he motioned covertly to the barmaid. As she approached, he asked, "My lady, I am not the richest man to have just arrived on these fair shores. Could you please let me know how much one of these drinks would put me in the hole? I'm afraid, I only have a limited amount of local currency."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 38):

The young woman adjusts the tray of glasses she is holding. "A pint will run you a sixpence. But if you are looking for something less we do have some of the cheap stuff that would peel the paint off the wall."

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 39):

"It seems as if I will have sufficient funds to keep us entertained throughout the evening." Clarke turned to the Mike and the elderly gent. "Another round, I believe, is in order."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 40):

The barmaid nods in the affirmative and heads over to the bar while you new companion continues with is story.

"Now his mother was very sorrowful when she heard of this, but she knew quite well that if she tried to stop his having his own way he would only grow more determined to get it. So all the answer she made was that the end of thieves was hanging at the bridge of Dublin, and then she left him alone, hoping that when he was older he might become more sensible."

He only pauses to smile and thank the young lady as she sets a drink in front of him which he quickly quaffs...
And launches right back into his tale.

”One day she was going to church to hear a sermon from a great preacher, and she begged the Shifty Lad, as the neighbours called him from the tricks he played, to come with her. But he only laughed and declared that he did not like sermons, adding:　‘However, I will promise you this, that the first trade you hear named after you come out from church shall be my trade for the rest of my life.’”

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 41):

Clarke carefully sipped his drink and kept listening. Despite the drain on his wallet, he was finding the old-man's tale relaxing. For the moment, he was free from real monsters and everything else mattered little.

Out the corner of his eye, he could make out Zoe and Lara sitting on hallucinatory chairs as well. They were just as enthralled by the tale.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 42):

"These words gave a little comfort to the poor woman, and her heart was lighter than before as she bade him farewell.  When the Shifty Lad thought that the hour had nearly come for the sermon to be over, he hid himself in some bushes in a little path that led straight to his mother’s house, and, as she passed along, thinking of all the good things she had heard, a voice shouted close to her ear ‘Robbery! Robbery! Robbery!"

As the man pauses his story he lifts his glass to his lips seemingly puzzled to find it empty. Nonplussed he continues...

"The suddenness of it made her jump. The naughty boy had managed to change his voice, so that she did not know it for his, and he had concealed himself so well that, though she peered about all round her, she could see no one. As soon as she had turned the corner the Shifty Lad came out, and by running very fast through the wood he contrived to reach home before his mother, who found him stretched out comfortably before the fire. ‘Well, have you got any news to tell me?’ asked he. ‘No, nothing; for I left the church at once, and did not stop to speak to anyone.’"

He pauses again to lift his glass only to find it empty. "Seems to fair lass forgot mine," he mutters. "Oh Dearie! Seems you've forgotten my pint."

The barmaid looks at you expectantly...

Mike chuckled at the old man's story, as entertaining as it was. He nodded to the barmaid to indicate another pint for the geezer as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Though he felt pressed for time and he hoped Zadok would finish this story soon so he could prompt something more useful, he did enjoy hearing it.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 44):

‘Oh, then no one has mentioned a trade to you?’ he said in tones of disappointment.

‘Ye–yes,’ she replied slowly. ‘At least, as I walked down the path a voice cried out “Robbery! Robbery! Robbery!” but that was all.’

‘And quite enough too,’ answered the boy. ‘What did I tell you? That is going to be my trade.’

‘Then your end will be hanging from the bridge!’ said exclaimed. But there was no sleep for her that night, for she lay in the dark thinking about her son. ‘If he is to be a thief at all, he had better be a good one. And who is there that can teach him?’ the mother asked herself. But an idea came to her, and she arose early, before the sun was up, and set off for the home of the Gallows Bird who was such a wonderful thief that, though all had been robbed by him, no one could catch him."

The old man pauses as the barmaid set another pint before him. "Thanks love," he says smiling sweetly. He raises the glass unsteadily, some of its content sloshing onto his hand. "You know, my doctor claims that the key to a long life is a pint every morning. So I figured if one is good more must be better!" he says with a drunk chuckle, clumsily placing the glass back on the table. "Where was I? Oh yea, the Black Rogue..."

"‘Good-morning to you,’ said the woman as she reached the place where the Gallows Bird lived when he was not away on his business. ‘My son has a fancy to learn your trade. Will you be kind enough to teach him?’

‘If he is clever, I don’t mind trying,’ answered the Gallows Bird; ‘and, of course, if ANY one can turn him into a first-rate thief, it is I. But if he is stupid, it is of no use at all; I can’t bear stupid people.’

‘No, he isn’t stupid,’ said the woman with a sigh. ‘So tonight, after dark, I will send him to you.’

The Shifty Lad jumped for joy when his mother told him where she had been.

‘I will become the best thief in all Erin!’ he cried, and paid no heed when his mother shook her head and murmured something about a bridge.’

"...." The story pauses as Zadok seems to lose focus for a moment.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:33, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 45):

"It seems the Shifty Lad will have some ill fortune blow upon him," Clarke said. He took another sip of his beer. "If I may interrupt, what bridge did the mother see in her vision? Touring ancient sites is one of my past-times."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 46):

The old man blinks himself back into the moment. "Oh, she be talking about the Old Bridge of Ayr."

Looking around the table he notices that you haven't finished your drinks and picks up his own glass. "Pardon my poor manners, can't be leaving you chaps drinking alone. Mary dear, another if you don't mind."

The barmaid again looks at you expectantly as the pub slowly begins to fill as the day begins to creep forward.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 47):

"Another round for all three of us," Clarke said to the barmaid. He turned to Mike. "This might be my last though, I would like have a quick peek at the bridge before heading to the bog. I hear it's much easier to find the ancient ruins at night."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 48):

Zadok sputters on his pint at Clarke's mention of the bog. *Hack* *Hack* He pounds his fist on his chest. "The bog?! How do you know about that wretched place?" he wheezes.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:25, Sun 05 Jan 2020.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 49):

"Well, as I mentioned, touring ancient sites is one of my past-times. It goes hand-in-hand with my job as an antiquity dealer." Clarke paused, and fidgeted with his glasses. "Not that that I am working professionally while in Scotland, I might add. This trip is for the simple pleasure of spending time with my old army-friend." He gestured to Mike. "Anyway, a colleague of mine from the business mentioned he had heard about it. So, I thought it might be worth a visit."

Clarke rotated his glass in a circular motion. "Although ... it was only one point of interest in our visit. If my colleague has misguided me in any way about the place's safety, I would appreciate a more knowledgeable perspective. We have seen more than enough danger for one lifetime."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 50):

“No!” The old man nearly shouts. He pushes aside his forgotten drink and leans across the table. “You don’t understand. How do you KNOW?” he whispers under his breath. “They promised. They said if we kept their secret they would...” he cuts himself off abruptly. “No.... Just... Don’t. Go. There.”