a job for me?

Paddy Quick was 'the man' in the Westwharf Dockyards, and he knew it. You needed something fenced? You had business to do in this little patch of the West side? Find the charming young man with the reddish-brown hair. He'll take care of you.

Most pubs in this part of town catered to wharfers or sailors. This particular one was Paddy Quick's base of operations. He had a booth to himself away from the hustle and bustle of the main floor, where seafarers, adventurers and thieves drank and cursed and made grabs the rear ends of the passing wait staff. A fight or two broke out once in a while but by local standards, this pub was pretty tame. Paddy didn't like too much distraction when his head was in the books.

With a cold ale to his side and two hard lads standing on either end of his booth to ensure he wasn't interrupted, Paddy worked furiously with a quill in one hand and a parchment full of sums in front of him. What was he doing?

Figuring out a whole new way to gamble.