I first met Richard Doublefist back when I was a waitress-slash-booze-wench at a midscale tavern on the lower west side of Edenwood. I had fewer piercings back then, and no tattoos – I was eighteen, trying to figure out what to do with my life, and enjoying a low-key existence in the meantime. Sleep in ‘til noon, hit up the library (some people will tell you that the best libraries are in Magetown, but those are purely academic – Edenwood has the best of everything else), then head to work, serve ale, drink ale, go home with a cute customer if I found one (only guys back then – it was a few more months before I started experimenting with the fairer, more tonguey sex), and repeat.
It was, honestly, a pretty good life if you had no ambition. However, I did, so from time to time I got a little crazy. But I knew something would drop in my lap soon enough, and I’d figure out what I wanted to do with my life and go do it.
Until then – low-key fun was the name of the game.