Gregory Vederman walks into Christy's, ringing the bell a second time, and yet soaked by the constant environment of New London. Taking off his hat, Greg noticed how the atmosphere inside was one more of regret than enjoyment this time. Greg took the time to ponder how he never got to converse with Sir Lauderdale before his retirement.
"Odd how time flies so fast. So many things left undone, I'll bet. Although he thoroughly deserves it, he dealt with more than his share of Corsairs, and worse, if there was a thing," Greg thought as he walked in.
"Why hello there Mr. Vede, I'll put a pot on for you. It'll be a little bit, though," Christie said to Greg as she scuttled by with a tray covered in scones.
"Wait, I'm just going t-" Greg started, but she was already out of earshot.
Greg walked towards the table where the card for Sir Lauderdale was situated. Quite a crowd had collected around the card in an imposing shell around the table. Greg took a couple of seconds to brace himself before forcing his way through. Despite his braced ankle, he managed to get relatively near the front. He found himself stuck between what seemed to be either a hefty constable or the janitor, and Sergeant M'Guire.
"Well, maybe I could stay for a little bit longer, or maybe have to," thought Greg as someone stepped on his ankle, prompting a gasp.
Sergeant M'Guire looked at him with a rather surprised face.
"Uh, hey there Duncan, how about those promotions? Fancy it was us, eh?"
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
![[Image: Skritt.gif]](http://i271.photobucket.com/albums/jj139/Kadinski/Skritt.gif)