Nayrover hasn't done much for the bar. Oh, except that they used his sausage money to purchase a guild stone in an attempt to get the old gang of Merry Ballooners back in business. It was a rotten deal - at least in the sense that it most likely wouldn't get Nay any closer to getting himself a new ship. The burly man grumbles and takes another chug of ale. He has been feeling pretty sour ever since his wife Laveta and Ermien hired a druid to lure him on a small island in the middle of the sea. Escape was not an option after he accidentally stumbled through that druid gate in the wee hours, paralytic drunk as usual, and found himself surrounded by sea and slightly pissed-off family who wanted to know why he had gone missing in action.
So yeah, now they're going to rebuild everything and apparently someone made Nayrover the guildmaster. He lets out a heavy sigh, leans closer to a nearby candle and lights a roll of mushy weed.
"Gosh, Ermien was right. You seem horribly bitter about something", a soft voice speaks up.
Nayrover almost falls off his chair. "The hell? Where'd you come from?"
"I was here all the time. You just don't pay attention." A carefree gypsy character emerges from the darkness and snatches the roll of weed from Nay's lips. She sits on the other side of the table and inhales a luxurious amount of smoke. Nay still can't quite get his finger around why Ripkin looks different from before. Is it her hair? Or maybe her jawline looks less masculine than before? Whatever it is, Nayrover still isn't entirely sure whether this strange person is a man or a woman. The whole thing creeps him out. And why does Rip always have to sneak behind other people's backs like that?
"Hm. Whatever", Nayrover says and folds his arms. "So I'm bitter, eh? That's what he says?", he asks gruffly. "So what's wrong about wantin' life to be easy? There's money in sellin' meats, plain an' simple. An' in case ye don't know, the king's men confiscated Maudlin' Marauder when they threw me in the slammer. It might be I'll never sail again in me life."
"Yes, I saw the ship in Jhelom after they fixed the sails and renamed it", Ripkin chuckles. "If it makes you feel any better, the paintwork looks brilliant. Not enough to make you smile? Aw, don't worry. I'm sure you can buy yourself a new ship soon enough."
"Like I had the money." The big man frowns deep. He would get angry at Ripkin's obvious indifference towards his lost ship, but it's no use getting angry at someone like Ripkin. You could throw stuff at her, and she would just duck behind the nearest table. You could chase her around the house and she'd always get away.
"You might be interested in knowing that I, on the other half, am going to make a buttload of money with my invention", Ripkin says. "Look carefully, because this... is going to blow your mind". She says with a dramatic pause and then places a peculiar box on the table right in front of Nayrover. Nay didn't even realize she was carrying something under her arm. The lid of the box is open. The big ruffian catches a glimpse of what is inside.
"Hrm. What is that garbage?"
"It's a dream portal device", Ripkin muses. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
"Uhh. What's it do?"
"Heh. So far that scribe Saria Autumn has been the only one smart enough to see that it's pretty much just a load of bullcrap. But that's only because it doesn't do quite the thing you'd think a dream portal device does. And it's missing one vital ingredient."
Nayrover gives the ambiguous character a blank stare. He's not the smartest guy around. "What ingredient?"
Ripkin's cigarette makes an eloquent trail of smoke in the stale air. She produces a little vial of clear liquid from the pocket of her vest. "This. The purest essence you can ever imagine to distill from a single stalk of nightshade. You know the green stuff you so much like in those things you smoke? This is so much better... Here, sniff it."
And so he does, not being able to resist the general idea of there being something even better than the blend he uses. Funny thing, the stuff inside the vial doesn't smell like anything... And still his head starts spinning and the world suddenly goes black.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I always get that one essence mixed up with sleeping ether."
Ripkin gently puts away the vial and walks on the other side of the table to give Nayrover a gentle kick in the ribs. The man is lying flat on the floor, completely unconscious. He seems to be breathing, which is good. Rip calmly takes one last drag from the cigarette and flicks away its remains. He kneels down to inspect Nayrover's facial features.
"You see, old chap. It's not actually a portal device that gets me inside other people's dreams. That would be interesting, but fortunately this is something even better. You're going to help me test it. 'Cause you know... I'm going to marry the guild master of Wayfarers no matter what. And before my big day I want this to be perfect. I'm going to cause the biggest shenanigans ever."
The remaining candles inside the Lovely Serpent are quickly doused.
***
After a couple of hours, just before the break of day, Nayrover Argeledougal slowly walks outside into the cool night air, brushing dust off his leather vest. It looks like Nayrover, but it's not really him, is it? The world, however, looks very interesting through his eyes.
