"Musha," he waggles a finger at you "It's talk like that that'll cause folks to not let you leave. You tell Michaleen, who laughs until his face hurts. At least then you could lay claim to this rich tradition of warriors and heroes. By the time you leave the bar, you have a deep wish that you'd had the fortune to be born on New Ireland, or the Sol homeland, Ireland itself. They all involve fighting, women, and lots of drinking. By the time he has finished his explanations, many of the other patrons have begun telling their stories. Or at least that is the way that Michaleen tells it. They have a long tradition of being the savior of their employers troops, and when the day is all but lost, and most men are ready to break, the Wild Geese find a special reserve and push on, often winning the day single-handedly. You ask him further about the Geese, and you realize that most of the famous battles of the past have had the Geese somewhere in the field. You see, there is a good chance that I will die in the service of the New Ireland economy, so I don't pay taxes or for services. So tradition has it that I don't pay for grog or food, nor lodgings either. I'm one of the Geese, so I am more responsible for the income of New Ireland than many others here. We fight for the best pay and the best causes, and we never lose. "We're the Wild Geese, the best mercenary organization in the Universe. "Why, don't you know who we are here in New Ireland," he answers, slightly surprised. You ask him why he doesn't seem to have to pay for anything, and he looks at you in surprise. So far all he has done is swan about and drink in pubs. You notice that Michaleen has not been to work a single day you have been here. Quote: You and Michaleen are sitting in the bar, and you are considering how easy it would be to stay here and drink for the rest of your life.
In what seems to be only a few short hours, the night is over, and you stagger away to Michaleen's place to pass into a blissful sleep full of dreams of quick witted women and quicker-fisted men.
Michaleen tries to teach you old drinking songs, and Sinead tries to teach you to dance. Their tongues move like whips, and you find your sides hurting from laughing at their banter. Men vie for the attention of the ladies, who treat them with a faintly mocking humour. The night seems endless, and is full of drink and song, fights and dancing. Michaeleen's cousin, Riley Shaskeen, is so happy that you have delivered his errant cousin that he places you at the place of honour at the reception, between his unmarried and beautiful sister Sinead, and his best friend and brother Sean Shaskeen. The rites were solemn and beautifully written, and the sentiments of love and eternities spent together brings a tear to your eye. Quote: The wedding turns out to be a very loud and jolly affair.