Po Knose

Scotty

Name:	Scotty
Location:	Rogueling
Rank:	Bartender
Guilds:	None
Step Name:	Not yet
Rogue since:	Birth

Previous Ships

Runners

Noted Favors and Awards

<under construction>

Biography

This is not actually Scotty's biography. He's just a slacker so I made one up for him. ~Requiem

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen....wait a minute. Sorry. Wrong story. But this one is related. For you see, Jolly Old Saint Nicholas had a perverted streak and used to hit up the strip clubs in Trinidad on the off season, much to Mrs. Claus's disapproval.

One year, in the early 90's, Saint Nick found himself in the bottom of a bottle of Jameson, lying naked next to his favorite stripper in some seedy motel near Trinidad. "Holy shit, what have I done!" exclaimed the old bearded man. About 9 months down the road, he got an anonymous delivery with a note saying only "This belongs to you." The package contained a baby.

Now, Santa is a sly old bastard, and played off that the kid was just another elf for his workshop. The ruse worked on the Mrs. for a little over two years, but when the "elfling" got taller and jollier than the elves, the gig was up. Santa had to explain that the boy was his illegitimate love child with an unnamed woman. And that's when the shit hit the fan.

Saint Nick, with a heavy heart and a sigh, agreed to take the boy somewhere else to live. He went down his Nice List, then his Almost Nice list, and so on until he came upon the "Naughty by deeds of piracy, looting and pillaging" list. "Ah ha!" he exclaims. "I've found just the rapscallions to watch over my boy."

Christmas time rolled around, and Santa bundled up his little elf lad and jumped in the sleigh. When flying over Denver, he made a special stop at the home of the couple at the top of his Piracy list, Cricket and Moon. He broke in through the kitchen window, his son slung over his left shoulder like a sack of charcoal briquettes, and a keg of Cuban rum under his right arm. Both were left next to the tree, with a note saying "Watch over my boy as if he were your own." Imagine their surprise when they woke up the next morning.

6:00 on Christmas morning, Moon wakes up and sees a 3-year-old child and more liquor than he could drink in a week, and yelled down the hall "Honey!! You have some explaining to do!!" Cricket came stumbling down the hall in a sleep-filled daze, muttering about her husband waking her up, and stopped cold when she got to the living room.

"What the hell is THAT?"

"I think it's a boy," said Moon. "Don't know. I assumed you picked it up at the pet store. And look, Honey! Rum!"

"You know better than that, ya jackass. You can't buy kids at the pet store. I have no idea where it came from. Is there a note or anything?" Moon passed her the simple note, to which she shrugged and said "Might as well keep him. Rex could use a friend. At least his former owners were considerate enough to provide alcohol so we can think it was really our idea."

The two drank the day away, and then remembered they had a new kid. "It's pretty shoddy of someone to leave their kid in our house," Moon said. Or so he thought. What actually came out was "'S Pri'y scotty s'm'one leaf they kid inna house." And thus was born Scotty Simon Moon.

The years went by, with Scotty learning everything Moon and Cricket had to offer - looting, pillaging, sailing, swearing, drinking fighting, fornicating, and bartending. His playmates and friends were all the sons of sailors, and most of them had a better grasp on sailing and swearing since they had an earlier start.

One particular lad, who would grow into the name of Phrae, was one of the biggest influences on young Scotty. The two would grow, through a long series of rough-and-tumble fights (usually over some girl or another) to be closer to each other than brothers. To this day, Scotty has his own version of family, and blames it all on Phrae.