"Oh, what, this thing?" Drogo said as he hefted a battered triceratops femur, plopping it with a thud onto the dining table.

"Yea man, it's great for beating the snot outta uppity wizards." he said, spooning yet another mound of mashed potatoes into his mouth, "Worksh on warlocks, shorsherers, artificersh, you name it." He swallowed.

Excited murmurs with a hint of concern began to well up at the other end of the table. He was so very unlike the so-called professionals they'd tried to hire in the past, what with their certificates of achievement from accredited institutions and their preoccupation with contracts and payments-up-front.

"Where was it you said you were from?" inquired Mr. Sorrels.

"Even better if you can start it off saying something like 'I've go a bone to pick with you' or 'It's about to get real archaeological up in this bitch'." Drogo took a gulp of milk. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"He wants to know where you're from." said Burke.

"All over the place, really," Drogo replied through a mouthful of grapes, "Mum was a nurse for the Royal Cavalry so we moved around a lot when I was a kid," he reached across the table and grabbed a pork chop off the Sultan's plate. "She eventually shacked up with Cleric of the Sands who didn't treat me with no respect so I moved out, spent a few years in the Baobabs trying to make a name for myself as a street racer before makin' a go at the Quantum Run-"

"You set a new record on that run, did you not?" a voice inquired from the far side of the table, originating from the belly of a red-nosed man who had clearly eaten enough mashed potatoes.

"Aye, I did! Held the record for a few weeks 'fore that upstart Trudy Neutral and her daddy's fancy car beat it goin' straight through the shadow like a lunatic. I still ain't convinced it's legit, them Streizfug's are a shady bunch, I tell ya." He swirled his cup, shaking his head before downing the rest of his milk.

His eyes softened again, "Anyway, where was I?" He diligently nibbled the last bits of meat off the bone and tossed it over his shoulder. "Ah, yeah, so I spent a few months kickin' it with the Ducks after my run then I got the invitation to come down here, so here I am!" Drogo said the last line with a grin that could blind an angel as he looked around the table at the rapt, attentive eyes of half a dozen wizards and their befuddled apprentices.

"I see," Mr. Sorrels glanced around the table gathering a series of agreeable shrugs and nods before continuing, "Well, Drogo, the council and I have invited you here because we would like to offer you a job."

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