Pat woke with a start. "Some buggers hammering somewhere" he thought to himself.
Thats when the pain hit him.
The hot, searing pain that only comes with a hangover the likes of which he didnt get that often. Mainly because he wasnt sober that often.
" I need a drink " he said to no-one in particuler and checked his pockets for creds.
After finding none he realised with a shock that he would have to go earn some through goods deads or foul. Foul being the preferd one.
BMM'ers need releasing from our gold again but he had best get some backup for it. Been a while and he was rusty.
Name:Pat McGroin Gender:Male Age:Forty something, i think Clan:My own Tick the role you want to be in [M] Regular [M][X] Wild Geese[] MMC[]
Biography: The less folks know about me, the better. But if you must know, the first thing i remember is suckling on a bottle of whisky on Arranmore somewhere, hanger i think and, come to think of it, thats the last thing i remember as well!
So, i guess, i'm from around those parts. Parents? dunno where they went.
The only thing i do know for sure is that i'm a Molly through and through and i hate those BMM feckers with a passion.
That, and i can fly a boat with the best of 'em. Not fighters mind you, whisky slowed my brain too much fer that, but cargo smugglin? thats my game.
Reasons for joining us: You need supplies and cargo? thats for me.[/indent] S.K.Y.P.3 information Slainte19677[/indent][/font]