[url=http://www.criticalmiss.com/issue3/ruleslaw3.html:1u6p7ism]Critical Miss[/url] said:
The rank stench of the tavern assailed the nostrils as Yarnn the Mighty, Jaccotan the Bastard and Merron the Wise entered; walking through the open doorway in search of some good food and a pitcher of ale (and in Jaccotan's case a quick screw with one of the scrubbers who worked the upstairs room).
Yarnn approached the landlord. "It fucking stinks in here! What d'ya put on the floor - raw sewage?"
Before the landlord could answer, one of the drinkers at a nearby table got up and approached Yarnn. He wore a battered brown leather tunic, and stank. Really badly. "You got a problem mate?" he asked.
Yarnn, mid-level adventurer that he was, looked the workman up and down and smirked: "Who's asking?"
The man stood his ground. "Darmok the Sewerman, that's who!"
That explains the smell, thought Yarnn, sniggering. The man reached down beneath the table and pulled out a battered shovel.
"Do you know what I do every day?"
Yarnn was beginning to get annoyed. Why couldn't the little shit just sod off and take his stink with him.
"I kill rats," the man continued, holding up the shovel. "Dozens of them. Dozens of rats every day for the past 15 years. Do you know what that means?"
"Er... no."
"It means that I'm a 28th level sewerman. My mate Jennon is 25th level, and there's not a man at that table below 15th. What was it you were saying to my friend the landlord?"
Yarnn squeaked out a response. "Three pitchers of ale and a packet of smoky bacon crisps..?"