<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;"><strong>Darcoli</strong></span></span></span><br/><div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/64/DeadwoodCox.jpg)</div>Character Sheet (http://plothook.net/RPG/profiler/view.php?id=13649)<br/><hr/><br/>The wine is indeed swill, the leftover remnants of dozens of kegs salvaged just before being discarded entirely, mixed haphazardly and stored in round clay pots the size of pomegranates. In short order Darcoli produced a half dozen of the things, identical in appearance, from a backpack that could hardly hold them without resorting to magic. The halfling drank deeply, clearly well experienced at the art, wiping his mouth with the furry back of his hand.<br/><br/>"You know, if we've only one night left before we're to set off on an unknown mission of untold danger, there are worse things to do then get pickled. And it looks like we've got the run of this fine room until they kick us out. I suspect that those of you, Tari, whose tastes are more refined could probably pop downstairs and bring back a better vintage. As for me, if I were to drink anything better I'd worry about spoiling myself out of a cheap habit." He slid back and sat cross-legged in the middle of the table, the offering of drinks arranged around him in a semicircle.<br/><br/>"So we've got a 'prankster', a blind 'story teller' and me, a chimney sweep. Doesn't quite sound like the stuff of legends yet. What about the rest of you -- Tari? And you, Red?" The last was directed at the elf in black leathers. "So far it seems more like casting for a sideshow, not an important mission. Unless there are some hidden talents in the mix?"<br/><br/>Darcoli took another deep pull of the wine, without wincing. "And we should probably get around to picking ourselves a captain." He placed a broad fat calloused thumb alongside of his nose. "Let me be the first to say 'Not It'."<br/>