[Neos Megalis] The Nexus

[Wynd]

	This location cannot be self-moderated. Contact a moderator if you wish to participate in a storyline here. Strange for a Eunesian city to have a bar named after the capital of Arium, but Nexus Prime, the largest city in the Aelyrian West (bigger than any city north or west of Primus Gaudeo), was also the original home of what one might call, Secyclion's Anarchist Party. Police crackdowns had forced this small band of political mischief-makers, Meephosians, small time criminals and vagabonds to abandon Nexus Prime and, naturally, they made for Secyclion, which accepted just about any schmuck at the harbour and was one of the more isolated cities compared to Ieffreon or Olympia. Their most prominent member, Bowery Manhattan, had made his presence well-known amongst the locals, having been responsible for and a participant in a number of riots in Neos Megalis, and had therefore earned something of a reputation with the militia. Thanks to the recent Necromancer hunts, the seasonal crises that tended to threaten Secyclion's very existence thanks to Markalin or some other sea-creature, and the rampant piracy of Neos Megalis, the police hadn't had much time to chase down Bowery. They knew where he usually hung out, however, and if it wasn't the Mouse & the Mask, it was probably The Nexus. The Nexus was the dingiest bar on the Main, the waterfront heart of Secyclion's nightlife -- alive for such a small city. (That was what allowed it -- far away from the wars, politics, and plagues of Aelyria, Secyclion had become the preferred destination of both the Mainlander leisure-class and its political and cultural outcasts.) It was a basement pub, underneath a seafood restaurant (and the stench from the stockroom was permanent). On ordinary evenings, one walked down the outside stairs and through the door. One flood days, it was recommended one used the entrance to the seafood restaurant and went down from there. As cheap as rent was in basement bars anywhere, in Neos Megalis, it was really cheap, reason being, several times a month the streets of Neos Megalis flooded. The direct entrance to The Nexus was accessible only by swimming, and anyone dumb enough to swim down and open the door would let the ocean in until half a dozen people got the door shut. The walls leaked. The floor was typically covered in a foot of water on flood days, and a bunch of dirty Nexians, and some more recently-joined Mainlander and Secyclionian anarchists and anarchist-symphathizers got pissed with their pants pulled up to their knees. Another draw happened to be they had the cheapest (and worst-tasting) pints on the strip. The owner, bartender, and janitor was, in fact, nobody. The Nexian Anarchist Party owned it collectively, and this ragged bunch of never-do-wells more or less time-shared duties as a bartender -- which meant being drunker than anyone else and stumbling around twelve inches of water pouring piss-beer from a barrel. Another feature of The Nexus was the local Nereid, Psamathe, whose sea-side well had been exactly where the seafood restaurant had been built. After living in their basement in the dark and snatching their fish for about a century, the basement was leased to The Nexus, and Psamathe tended to lounge in the corner. Given enough wine, she'd start singing and granting wishes to anyone who asked. Given enough whiskey, she'd start pulling men into the cellar and they'd wind up eating barnacles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next eterntiy. The Nexians called her local charm.

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

Immanis? In the season of OMGWTF-I-missed-Autumn-now-it's-Winter, Era XVI/XVII-ish


Dingy bars eh? And their pissed-ass stale ale and pissed-off rowdy drinkers.

Ken had been to this scene since he was a wee little half-elfing, when he was hanging around his mom still. See, mom sometimes came to places like these usually when she's low on cash and can't afford the better taverns, or when she's plain bored and wanted to flex her muscles thrashing low life hooligans just for the fun of it.

Now Ken was here much like his mother, doing the former only though (as he sadly didn't have enough muscles to do the latter). Good beer was becoming a luxury after a whole season of rustic living, bumming around the Dreamhouse, leeching on Lyr's generosity and patience, and still smoking a few twenty-pack a brightening. Smoking was seriously an expansive hobby, seriously.

Closing the door behind him, the youth slowly scanned the interior of the bar, taking time for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting within. Having lived on the island for months now, Ken was no stranger to the rumors of this weird place with a city for its name. All the more to avoid it as the last thing Ken wanted was to draw unnecessary attention (which he felt he had done enough already just being a babysitter in a city riddled by macho obsession) by being implicated as part of this anarchist thing. Not after what happened one or two winters back beginning at The Mouse and Mask involving a certain Mr. Manhattan.

But a whole winter back or more felt like a long time ago. The need to get wasted overrides old prejudice, and thus he was here. Carefully, the boy approached an empty seat, flicking cigarette ash to the floor on the way, hoping that he could fit right in without inviting too many stares or even worse, questions. He wondered if Bowery was around, wondered if he could actually remember the guy's face since he was so high that time. And if he could, wondered if the man recognized him too. Bowery wasn't exactly an acquaintance, though Ken thought him a pretty cool guy, eh start rebellions and doesn't afraid of anything.....

[Wynd]

(OOC: Sorry for the massive wait. December's been a busy month, both IRL and with my PC involved in an important plot.)

Naturally, it was a flood day, and Kenkuroi would discover one of the reasons a pint of Arium beer cost a couple silvers, and the shots of ouzo and jellofish liquor were ten for a Crown. Two feet of water was on floor of the bar. (The second reason was it all tasted just a little bit like fish.)

"Hurrah!" screamed the crowd of tanked anarchists and ne'er-do-wells sloshing around through the flood, sitting on top of tables, on the bar, or on half-submerged barrels, when Kenkuroi walked down the steps. Inconspicuous was not today's soupe du jour.

"A round! A round!" Kenkuroi was handed a pint of terrible beer and two shots of ouzo along with the rest of the place.

The bartender passed them all around and tripped on his way back, grabbing the bar with his drink in the other.

"I ain't ever seen you before!" he shouted at Kenkuroi.

"Yeah, you were just blind drunk, Robarthe!"

"Feth your mother!"

Fitting in, then, was to join the piss-show.

Then Psamanthe, the basement nereid, stumbled out of the cellar, holding a bottle of Glorf Glinsson Zerdargian whiskey, and totally naked.

"Is this one new?" she shouted, and the crowd cheered. She splashed up to Kenkuroi. "What can I do for ya, swee'pea?"

This, of course, was Psamanthe, the nereid rumoured to grant wishes from time to time.

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

Now if Ken was dressed and had the money pouch of the Syl'rosyan Blue-Blood he was supposed to be, he would have quickly wrinkled his nose at the sight of this overwashed-up joint and quickly get the feth out before he ruined his fancy elven silk twinkle toes. Too bad, he had the blood, just not the former and latter. With peanuts in his wallet and a pair of unfancy boots bought from some Imperian stall for a ripped off price of 20 crowns, Ken continued to wade through the two feet slosh, grabbing whatever was offered to him.

Gods the beer wasn't just terrible it was terribad, and it made Ken suddenly felt like going back home to his big tree and suck on Moonwillow's own brew, Prismquisst, no matter how bored to death he was with it. But he sucked it up anyway, knowing full well once he passed the sober stage, any beer will taste more or less the same. Besides, he wanted to fit it. Yelling a few good hearted profanities back at his new found drinking buddies, Ken was about to make himself at home when, she appeared.

He had heard rumors of this Nereid, but he had assumed it to be some stone statue, sort of those little figurines where you pour or gave offerings of liquor for superstitious good luck and fortune. He didn't quite expect the Nereid to be a real living thing. And naked!

He gulped his drink, feeling it skip a thorax and hit the pit of his belly. For every inch she neared, he inched away further. After his very-eventful experience in Kk'trabar, Ken had become a little paranoid of this sea people, and this is a sea-woman to boot! Nevermind Kk'trabar but momma always warned him about the flashy ladies.

"Well for starters hun, you should go get two large oyster shells to cover them....." Ken paused, and for lack of a better word continued, "... pearlies," he said, nudging a chin towards those strange assets on the chest he could never have. No denying, like a typical male Ken's eyes were affixed at those. The only difference was, his had zero lust, just loads of fear with maybe just a tint of curiosity.

OOC: Wait whaaaat? *hic* :D
Anyway I can't tell the difference between a Nereid and a Mermaid. Do Nereid's have fish tails too or human legs... or something else?

[Wynd]

"Aw, honey, am I intimidating you? You ain't gotta be afraid of me, darling, I don't bite," teased Psamathe, "I'll give you whatever you want, honey."

"Yowee!" hollered some punk.

The bartender, Robarthes, whistled and shouted, "Let me put on some music. Where's that bard, huh? Bard! You!"

"He's passed out inna corna!"

"Well, wake him up!"

Some punk sloshed over to a man passed out in the water, his head lying against the wall, and his lyre on the table. "Wake up, huh!"

The bard told him to feth off, but slowly stood up.

"What do you want?"

"Play us a chune. Somethin' romantic for these two! Psamanthe found somebody new to play with."

Psamathe was ignoring the bar banter and offered the bottle of Glorf Glinsson whiskey to Kenkuroi by tilting it down over his head. There was a slur in her speech and she could barely walk straight. This was one sloppy, but still frustratingly sexy nereid.

"Didn't no one tell ya? I'll grant you a wish. Anything you desire," she said.

"Don't go asking for something stupid!" shouted Robarthes, "Think about it for a second."

The bard had picked up his lyre and was playing something sweet and slow.

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

For sure the half elf was intimidated like feth. And baptizing him in whisky certainly wasn't helping either.

Poor Ken released a shocked gasp feeling the potent liquid ran through his hair, clinging to his skin, and drenching his loose shirt. Followed by a little yelp, quickly he bolted off to the furthest ends of the dingy tavern, trying to get away as far as possible from this sea-witch-bitch.

Poor Psamathe too.

It wasn't her fault this particular male wasn't falling for her flesh revealing charms. She was a real pretty thing with excellent assets, Ken admitted that. Despite his lack of interest in all things sexual, he still had quite a discerning eye when it comes to physical beauty. He had good teachers. Equally beautiful teachers. Moonwillow was choked full of them.

It was just that.... let's just say, parents are sometimes not the best source of sex education. Under his father's tutelage he would be gobbling her up by now and perhaps leaving her a nice present to remember him by, like babies and STDs. (Un)Fortunately, he didn't spend his childhood with daddy, and when he did, he wasn't exactly the favorite son here. He got his mother's tutelage, and sex ed from Shouten Hanamiki, was like receiving Lessons of Honesty from a politician.

"What I desire right now is for you to stay away from me. Please! And ay dios mio put some clothes on!" squealed Ken as he turned away from her to gaze instead at the latest fashion in Secyclionian footwear, which were all not visible. Thank you flood.

Frankly speaking, what he would so desire right now was to afford not drinking here. If only he could have more nickels and dimes in his wallet he would be somewhere not flooded, sitting on a large velvet chair, sipping Jaedaxian champagne, smoking Eunesian cigars, with no horny naked woman on his lap, and a bunch of punks for friends. Judging by how they were all egging them on, he didn't think he was going to get any help if this worsened into a situation resembling a prison shower scene.

[Wynd]

But what was it Kenkuroi really desired?

"Aw, sweetheart, you're no fun," hollered Psamathe at him, but let him go to the other side of the bar. She took another draught from the Glorf Glinsson and, reluctantly, wrapped herself in an old cloak that had been left hanging on the pub wall. Apparently, Kenkuroi's wish had been granted.

"Didn't I tell ya? Don't go asking for something stupid!" Robarthes chided the half-elf, "Now you've gone and pissed her off. Hey! Quit it with the sappy stuff!" he yelled at the minstrel, "Play something raucous!"

The minstrel: "How 'bout a drink, then?" The minstrel looked a bit worse for wear, and not the least bit Secyclionian. He'd been travelling the realm for years, searching for that nobleman who'd take him into court. But times were tough. Taxes were up, it had been a very long winter and there was a war going on, and nobody wanted a dead-weight minstrel leeching off them. Depressed and given up, he'd woken up in a Neos Megalis gutter across from the Nexus and figured he might as well stay.

"Here, mate," said Robarthes to Kenkuroi, "A drink on the house, and a smoke. Don't mind Psamathe. She's just a, y'know, a local. What brings you down to the Nexus?"

The crowd had quited down, albeit disappointedly. Psamathe had settled down to making out, interchangeably, with the Glorf Glinsson and the Nexian on whose lap she sat.

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

Good riddance!

Ken scowled, looking up to see her saunter off and go wear a dirty old cloak.

Women! A plague on all of them! Well, except his mom, but then again she was a monster, not a woman, hah! No way was he going to allow himself to be manipulated and trapped with an unnecessary commitment like that sucker, Lyr Tlansson.

He shook his wet mane like a wet dog, spraying bits of whisky all over, and after a bit of hair ruffling, looked at his sticky hand, licked it, and decided what a waste of good whisky, perhaps the only good drink in this entire forsaken bar.

"It was something decent, not stupid!" Ken retorted as he strode back towards the bar to gladly receive his complimentary drink and smoke. "And what the feth was all that for!?" he looked around the tavern, spotting the Nereid moving on, already, and the rest of the disappointed punks all quieting down now shows over. "Some initiation whenever someone new enters The Nexus?" he asked, referring to the whole Psamanthe pass thing, and the creepy fact that everyone was looking forward to it.

He glanced at the washed up bard, and decided he liked him already. He reminded him of home; where drunk, bored bards sit around in their once cool Moonwillow, occasionally singing and exaggerating tales, while waiting to get executed, or for some deliverance to happen.

"Give the man a drink," he addressed the bartender, nudging a chin toward Mr. Minstrel.

The last question was very intriguing.

"Came here to get wasted. I'm kind off, on a budget," the boy shrugged as he took a sip of his drink, and lighted the cigarette. That part was true. Although, now he was here, Ken couldn't help but feel another reason should be to meet up with an old acquaintance.

"Bowery told me of this place. Do you know him? Bowery Manhattan? Black hair, taller than me, a bit haggard looking, wiry built, a little mad..."

[Wynd]

"You could call it an initiation. See, Psamathe grants wishes. Really. Like a geni or something. She likes to pull it on newcomers, but sometimes, when she's bored she'll offer it to a regular, and it depends just how desperate they are. Sometimes she gives you just what you ask for, no strings. Sometimes she takes you for a ride. I mean, really. The cellar? How many times have I gone in to get a new keg to find her -- well, you get it. Sometimes she drags you off into the sea afterward, too, but that only happens when you really piss her off," warned Robarthes.

Psamathe was still absorbed with that regular. Who knew if she'd drag him into the cellar? Or how many times he'd been dragged in there before. She didn't take the ones she liked down into the sea, but liked to keep them around.

He poured the minstrel a drink and passed it to him, "Here, you lout!"

Back to Kenkuroi, "Bowery Manhattan? Yeah, he's been here since the start. Sometimes he even works here. He's in damn near every night. If you don't see him tonight, you'll see him tomorrow night, but even when he's off somewhere else he'll usually stop here for a night-cap, or a morning lift. What do you want to see that madman for, anyway?"

After seeing Kenkuroi's attitude for Psamathe, Robarthes was curious to know what this stiff (or queer, as it were) wanted with Bowery, who'd had more than his share of nights in the nereid's cellar.

The minstrel had walked up to the bar to get his drink. He looked at Kenkuroi strangely. "I don't know if I'd call you familiar, but, you ever been to Syl'rosya? You look a bit like someone I tried for a patronage once, there. Myth-ah-neeya something."

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

A worried Ken glanced back at Psamanthe and The Regular getting their groove on, upon hearing that if you pissed her off, she drags you to the sea. And Ken hated getting wet, and now after the whole Kk'trabar thing, he hated the sea too. Was she pissed off with him after what happened? He hoped not. He took note that he will have to buy her a drink later, hopefully it would un-piss her... got to make sure...

He turned back to the barkeep to answer the Bowery question. "I happened to know him an era or two back. We were partying at The Main, or was it The Mouse? Anyways, we hang out. Just thought to hang out with him again. And I need to ask him a few questions too. He gave me something really... wacky. This Kero thing. It was pretty good stuff man... got any of these in your cellar? I'm interested..." Ken asked, exhaling smoke and then flicking the cigarette the barkeep gave him earlier as an indication, "... and this is pretty good stuff too. I'm going to need more. Give me a packet, and the price."

As for the bard - "I AM from Syl'rosya... and who's asking?" Ken countered defensively, scrutinizing the man carefully to see if he knew the guy, or if the man meant any harm or trouble. Mithania's name carried such a bad stigma since their fall, that one just had to be extra careful nowadays.

[Wynd]

"These?" asked the bartender, holding up the paper packet of cigarettes, "Eunesia's finest, Kyriazi Adelphi!" The packet held twenty smokes, and on the packet was an image an of Toichos Kikkimos on the red cliff, under a banner that read Kyriazi Adelphi Cigarettes and above Fine Eunesian Tobacco.

"That'll be one Crown."

Behind the bar, beneath the dusty, rarely-opened wine bottles and frequently-restocked ouzo and whiskey bottles, were packs of cigarettes and cigars. Given that tobacco was grown in the Acores Keys, tobacco was cheap and abundant on Secyclion. There were several other brands, but Kyriazi Adelphi was the most common. There were even a couple of Sherian cigars -- now contraband -- on hand, and all of them kept well above the high water mark.

The minstrel was taken aback, since Kenkuroi had just bought him a drink. "Philip of Daltina, Bachelor of Minstrelsy from the Zinn'Sunn Music Academy. And thanks for the drink. You're not a Myth-ah-neeya, are you? I played at, what was it, Moon-oak? Starwillow? Something like that. I mean, I could be wrong, you elves all look the same to me.

"Anyway, I saw Bowery over at Sleepy Sam's trying to start a fight with some pirates. He's always got kero on him. Good stuff huh?"

And it just so happened that at that very minute, none other than Bowery Manhattan should stumble through the door -- the front basement door, rather than down the restaurant stairs.

"YOU FETHING MORON!" screamed Robarthes as water began to flood into the bar.

The water knocked Bowery, drunk, right onto his face in the water, while Robarthes and a band of drunks and punks rushed the door and finally closed it, completely sopped.

Bowery stood up, totally sloshed, twisted on kero, with a limp, wet cigarette dangling from his mouth, and shouted, "Those pirates a-feared a' me, man, I tellya, I tellya. Robarthes! Rounds all 'round! I won this off some scurvy sea-shrimp!" And held up a pouch of coins. "He didn't know we were bettin', though."

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

Ken grabbed the packet, flipping it around in one hand to view the packaging while his other dutifully reached into his pockets to smack a 5 crown piece on the table. Grunting his thanks, the boy made the notion that he did not want to receive the change but instead to add another 4 pack of the Kyriazi Adelphi Cigarettes to his tab.

Back to the bard, Ken still did not immediately answer the man, but he pondered especially when the man had said he had played at his father's home. "I'm not an elf!" the half elf replied indignantly, it irked him whenever people kept mistaking him for a pure blood elf. "I'm a HALF-elf... there's a difference!" he retorted before continuing, "And it's Moonwillow. I'm Kenkuroi Mithania, Llorinal's second son. And I don't think we ever met Mister Philip as I wasn't raised there. Moonwillow closed down when I started staying at me dad's place. You must have met my father. And that's interesting news, how long were you playing there before you left?"

Decent conversation was something Ken uncommonly had, and he wondered was he about to get one (and be capable of maintaining it) this brightening? The Bowery comment sparked further interest but just before he could get more word in about that, guess who came through the door?

Bowery fething Manhattan - As mad and as high as ever, and apparently in a kick ass and have kicked ass mood.

Ken couldn't help but chuckle at his antics. He raised his glass towards the mad man and shouted "Cheers!" before gulping down its contents. It was a toss to Bowery's pirate kicking feat, as well as to grab the man's attention. Would Bowery still recognize him? Especially in his Kero stupor? Though come to think of it, when they hang out they were both raging on Kero too....

[Wynd]

"Moonwillow! That's right," said Phillip of Daltina, "Didn't play there long. Well, about a month. Would you believe that's how long it took them to decide I wasn't any good? I mean, I heard elves are all patient-like but that just seems a bit dull. Anyway, they kicked me out and said if I wanted to be a real musician I should get off the ergot and actually spend some time practicing. Stuck up pricks. I mean, no offense."

But then Bowery turned to see the well-wisher, although that included most of the bar since he'd just bought one all around.

"Well well well well what 'ave we got ourselves here?" Bowery asked the air, as if a player in the theatre in Arthro Galanos, "Ladies and gentleman, geeks and birds, if this ain't the one and only best-godsdamned axe-thrower I have ever seen! Did I ever tell you bucket-heads the time he cleaved a cop's head in two with a battle-axe the size of a man? I tell you it was beee-oooo-teee-full. Kenk! You dog, took you long enough to stumble down here? Have you met Psamathe yet? I highly suggest it. But how are you? What have you been doing? How have you been keeping yourself from that dreaded and most distasteful boredom? Do you want some Kero? Here, I've got some Kero! Psamathe! Psamathe! Let's play axes! I wish for some axes, doll, and a dartboard!"

A dartboard materialized on the wall, along with three throwing axes.

And then Bowery spread some leaves on the bar -- one of the few dry surfaces -- for Kenkuroi to chew.

[Kenkuroi Mithania]

"No offense taken..." Ken grinned a bit, trying to suppress his amusement at the bard's tale. Moonwillow, unlike their Windsinger cousins were a very carefree, laid back, and as Mr. Philip of Daltina put it, patient lot. The fact he could get the boot and receive such comments could only meant that indeed he sucked, like really bad.

But Bowery.... Bowery, Bowery, Bowery...

Ken was sipping his free ale as the drunk madman launched into a dramatic introduction - of him apparently... and his axe...

"Phffftttt!!!" Out sprayed the intoxicating liquid, such a waste of free booze, as it got forcefully and unintentionally ejected from his cheeks and disappeared into fine mist. Poor Ken spluttered and coughed, struggling with this reflex thing as if water just went up the nose, except this isn't water, this is beer and therefore sucks even more.

Bowery fething Manhattan indeed! Must he go announce that to the whole world!? And Jalat in Aetheria! He is celebrating it! Why is he celebrating it?

Groaning, Ken recalled back the horrible accident-incident; After plunging into the sea and swimming back to shore, the duo had went on their separate ways. For that few moments left while Ken was still high on Kero, the cop's murder had not bothered him the slightest. The first thing he did in fact, was go dry the stash of tobacco he freeloaded and smoke his lungs out. Of course, 'good times' don't last forever. Ken soon sobered and.... completely regretted his actions....

See, as tough a juvenile delinquent he was, such dishonorable murder was just not something Ken was willing to live with. This high honor code... this morality issue... was another one of those lessons hammered in by his Kemite mother apart from the fail sex ed. And what happened that night was indeed dishonorable considering they were technically stealing.... Okay cut the honorable concept aside, it was murder plain and simple. And Ken was as much a virgin in getting his hands dirty as he is in getting down dirty. And as everyone knows, the first time was always a little.... unpleasant.

Now what Ken had done to fix his little nagging conscience was to simply deny it. He promptly decided to make believe that the murder was just a very bad dream. It somewhat worked a bit with the assistance of the Kero influence, and later the Leaf and booze he loaded his system with. Thus he had successfully built a little rosy-tint veil to block that bad memory out until.... now.

Thank you Mr. Manhattan, for unveiling everything.

"I don't want Kero!! And axes!!" Ken suddenly yelled, banging his fist against the table.

"YOU!" he pointed an accusing finger at the mad Nexian. "What have you done to me!? What did you made me do? It's all your fault!! It's all your fault I'm a murderer!!" a very distraught Ken roared and couldn't help but flung himself towards the man, not caring if they were going to end up rolling on the water filled floor.

"What should I do? What should I do?" a teary eyed Ken, teary from the coughing earlier, wailed as he pummelled Bowery with weak punches.

[Wynd]

Bowery and Kenkuroi flailed around in the water, Bowery taken wholly by surprise but his kero thankfully left on the more-or-less dry bar, until the Nexian pulled himself together and threw Kenkuroi off of him. Ken lay sprawled on the water, half-submerged, when Bowery offered him a hand, so long as the kid stopped trying to fight him.

Bowery spat the grimy water out of his mouth and said, "Look, kid, don't lose any sleep over it. Who knew you could throw an axe like that? We've all got problems, problems, problems. You can't lose your head over it. Drink something. Take a ride with Psamathe -- she'll make you forget everything. Just don't air it all out in front of everybody, mate."

He hauled Kenkuroi up, half-elf willing, to the bar. Robarthes, lightly misted in Kenkuroi's beer-spray, offered up an ouzo to calm the half-elf's nerves, lit a Kyriazi Adelphi and handed it to him.

"Okay, so you're not into the kero tonight. Maybe you can help me with this, though. Somebody down at the Parampoulous sold me these, called it 'bloodcandy,' told me I'd feel great. But I tried it and it didn't do a thing," said Bowery, and placed a damp leather cloth on the bar. He opened it up to reveal a half dozen black crystals of chalky substance. "I don't know if it's just me or if the creep screwed me. Try one."

Phillip of Daltina took a look at the crystals, "I tried those once, somebody had them at school in Zinn'Sunn. Except they were yellow. Didn't do a thing to me, but that bard who had them lost his head on something. And could he ever play, man, he had it."

Psamathe had stepped over to Bowery, her dirty cloak abandoned agained, and was whispering something in his ear. Something along the lines of, "Get that... Kai--? Was in here the other day."