I actually didn’t want to start this story today, but I have it blocked out in my head, so what can you do?
(Formerly Philadelphia, PA)
Jackie Ximénez Hopper had decided that, if one simply had to attend a theatrical performance outside of New California, then there were worse places to do it than in Liberty Lair. The Franklin Theater was particularly nice: good seating, excellent acoustics, and the bar prices were remarkably reasonable. It would seem that being directly supported by the hoard of the Great Wyrm of Philadelphia meant that the usual revenue tricks were unnecessary.
Speaking of bar prices; the first press of bodies from the intermission had receded, so it was time to replenish her drink. Jackie moved towards an open spot at the bar, humming the overture from tonight’s inaugural performance of Claws Against the Dark. It was a little slow going; theater critics weren’t respected as much outside of New California as Jackie was used to, and subconsciously still expected.
That was her justification for almost bouncing off of the orc who was also going for the open bar spot, at least. In reality she was at least a little distracted at the way the guy was six and a half feet tall, at least as muscular as his legionary dress armor promised, and somehow carried off twin tusks with aplomb. Jackie assumed that he was part of the Empress’s entourage; the Emperor had mostly brought along polished men and women in excellent suits. Anybody big and looming was probably a military attache.