[H1][center][color=440e62]MORGAN[/color][/CENTER][/h1]


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[b][i]November 18, 7:55 P.M.
West Commons, The Pale Horse[/i][/b]

Morgan smiled as he relayed the order to Jacque, letting him know to grab the meat from the reserves. Morgan picked up the notes from the table and putting them in the till before excusing himself, returning moments later with an ornate glass bottle filled with an amber liquid. [color=662d91]"This, my friend,"[/color] he started, waving towards the bottle with a theatrical flourish, [color=662d91]"is a little something a few associates of mine were able to procure from beyond the walls, I've been assured it's a rather stout drink,"[/color] he said, placing two short glasses on the table, a few cubes of ice going in before filling them with the scotch.

    [color=662d91] "I've never been one to second guess my associates, but we may as well check their claims,"[/color]  Morgan claimed with a grin, a pop of his shoulder as he brought up his own cup lifting his head from it's resting space on his shoulders, seeming to slide down his arm in  a practiced motion before stopping in front of him. A thin purple mist emerged from the hole, seeming to reach for it recently departed appendage, before being quelled quickly as he dumped the entirety of his glass in, blinking sharply as he felt his body take the drink, [color=662d91]"Hellfire and damnation, I may have ripped the fellows off for the price I played."[/color] He said, shrugging as he poured himself another glass, [color=662d91]"C'est la vie,"[/color] he finished, seeing Jacque set the ordered food in front Baldwin. The food in front of him hardly resembled that of the aforementioned heffer, the coloration a light pinkish-gray. 

[color=662d91]"Do enjoy, I'm told she should be particularly succulent, the poor dear being quite young,"[/color] he said, a sly grin on his face as he placed his head back upon its original place, [color=662d91]" but I hear that's how the Lord of the Mountain has always preferred his meals."[/color]