[right] [h3][color=0072bc][i]Xen[/i][/color][/h3] [hider=Status] [b]Location:[/b] [i]Riverside Boathouse[/i] [b]Notes:[/b] [/hider] [hider=Description] [url=https://i.pinimg.com/736x/ce/3d/91/ce3d91f17269149e2339d56fe14f70a1--sea-art-pirate-ships.jpg]Ornate weaponry. Slightly pale face. Red eyes.[/url] [/hider] [/right] [hr] “Gods help, why’re we outa chick’n again? I keep’t tellin’ ‘em that we weren’t going to find any more in Wormsloe at this time o’ year. It’s not much in demand since new years is 20 weeks ‘way.” The ogre grabbed several pounds of some indistinguishable meat from the shelf and threw it into a large pot of soup in the middle of the room. “Vermin-meat it is. ‘Ave to add some extra garlic to make sure the taste stays olright.” He began trudging upstairs, which in comparison to him were quite small. He barely fit through the doorway to the main-deck of the Cerberus, despite what looked like several past modifications to make the doorway larger. It was darker out than he had anticipated. “Crew’ll be back soon,” he wondered out loud, “Wond’r how the plan’ll go. Maybe we’ll be able to get chick’n here year round.” As he crossed the ship, he saw Ivory looking curiously at the ship’s expert craftsmanship. “Wrong ship, miss.” His voice and tone were as slow and deliberate as his stride. He picked up a rusty trap off the ground, pried a rat from its grasps, and took a long sniff. “Ahhh, there’s no place like Wormsloe.” [hr] Xen was known for his heists. The intricacies of entire operations resulting in the theft of priceless artifacts were known to none but him. As a firm believer of “if you want something done right,” he always played a key role in each one, ranging anywhere from wiping out an entire bunker of soldiers to gaining favor in a court of royalty only to poison their king. This one revolved around Wormsloe’s weekly meeting. Everyone in attendance knew their own role, but no one actually knew who else was involved. Xen took a few gulps from his flask as he stepped up the stairs to the riverside boathouse. He took care to lock the large doors behind him, attaching to it a magical apparatus he procured from underneath his coat. Everyone had already arrived, and discussions were already well underway. He only needed to show up late and insert a few well placed remarks, and Wormsloe would be his for the taking. Atleast he thought. He didn’t expect [i]those two[/i] to be in attendance.