Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20191125223614/@comment-5543592-20191220172635

The door creaked as Shanks pushed it open.

He stepped immediately into a dining room of sorts, with six men gathered around a table, so worn there were deep grooves in the wood. They were chatting about nothing--weather, what they'd eaten that morning, but fell to a collective silence when they saw him.

Each of them appeared to be older than sixty, with the eldest into his nineties and they all wore varying degrees of denim or leather.

It was the oldest of them who spoke first, smiling at Shanks, and asked him in a shaking voice, "How many wives do you have?"