Invergordon Sumit

[TFinnegan]

Tim Finnegan beams a smile at Arbiter Crow as he approaches, his dress Gordon Black Watch kilts snapping as he strides.

"Top o' th' mernin' t'yez Jack me boy!" Finn bellows as the Junker Guardsmen at the door fall back respectfully.
"Oi dinnae ken how ye'z drink tha' cat-pess Rum from 'Rico when there be aye all th' free Gordon Oban ye'z can swill at yon fingertips..."
He steps in front of Jack Crow, Arbiter of the Congress, and shakes hands firmly and heartily with his boss.

Nodding in respect and deference, he falls into a chair, sprawling an arm over the back and kicking his boots out before him.
"Oi done seen wha' Doc Holliday hae made berth nae long back, Oi imagin 'e be onn'is way 'ere." he says.
A wry smirk crawls sideways across his face.
"Best Oi give ol' Murph a ration o' chores wha'll keep th' bugger busy. Dinnae want 'im t' take Doc fer all'is cash - again!"

He taps away at a keypad embedded in the tabletop.

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