<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/15/Richard_Lancaster_2.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Rick Lancaster (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=283758.msg13963370#msg13963370)<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>January 1st, 2018<br/><strong>Status:</strong>---<br/><strong>Notes/Triggers:</strong>At the law office of Mr. Zilby.<br/><strong>Tagging: </strong>Mr Zilby (NPC)<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Rick's smile broadened impossibly wide at hearing that Zibly would mentor him, and that he was going to go low with his fee as well. Rick would have been happy to spot the full fee, so he was not going to argue, or even mention anything else on that front. He popped his hand forward to shake on the deal, on the oft chance that the Boggan changed his mind about the fee. The little side trip had delivered more treasure than he had expected, and he would not offend the Dreaming by taking it for granted. Knowing the ways around the legal system was just another weapon in his arsenal, one that few would even believe that someone like him would have. That aspect made all the fucking hard work he put in worth it, even if sitting and reading for hours at a time nearly drove him around the twist.<br/><br/><em>"You know what? I'll let you have a bottle of whiskey for free, provided you promise you or someone else will drink it and use it for no other purpose. I can't stand the idea of my whiskey being used in any way except for its intended purpose. And oh yes, I am just as good a lawyer as I am a baker and spirit-maker."</em><br/><br/>"Oh, Mister Zibly, never have any fears of it having any other fate than being consumed and appreciated to the fullest. This is something that I am going to keep for myself to enjoy a dram at a time, praising your skills to the Dreaming and beyond. In return, my now good friend, if you need assistance with anything that you have neither the time, skills nor inclination to deal with, I will happily take care of it for you. With all the plausible deniability that you require."<br/><br/>Rick nodded in a manner that an executioner would when he swung his axe.<br/><br/><em>"Now, to the matter of the, uh, letter."</em><br/><br/>Rick sat straight, anticipation rolling off his body as he watched Zibly produce a sheet of paper. It took no time at all to tell that it was a photocopy, but the quality of the reproduction was excellent. If he ignored the few little spots that spoke of the truth that it was a copy, Rick would have sworn it was the real thing. What he noticed straight off was that the author was someone who was used to writing, and taking pride in their efforts. But it was also clear that the author was in a hurry to get their words down, and something caused them to stop before the message was complete. Whatever happened had caused them to stop and perhaps look at the source, rather than the source physically interrupting them, making them leave some ink to mar the rest of the message.<br/><br/>All Redcaps felt the deep gnawing cols of Winter within their souls, and by the time they got as old as Rick, they got used to the low level feel so much so that they could ignore it. But as the words were read, Rick felt the cold expand through his gut, amplifying the hunger inherit to his kind. Further, he would bet money on the feeling that the words were Dreaming driven, an omen of some kind to grant warnings to those wise enough to divine the meaning.<br/><br/>"I dunno about you, Zibly, but reading that sent not just a chill down my spine, but a fucking blizzard. I thought shit was bad from what I had seen, but now... now I feel like Ned Stark. Winter's coming, and its going to be bad."<br/><br/>Rick took one more pass over the words, shivered noticeably once more and turned his attention back to Zibly. "You fine with me taking this copy to show the rest of the motley? Oh, and that bottle, I'll grab that when I see you next, if that's fine with you."