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"Dont think that a plate full of sheep will make you my friend," says the
man to Fred. "Besides, I don't eat the mystery meat in this city anymore,
whether this be the west side or no. The damned Mage Guild has too much
power and influence now! More likely than not, that sheep is some poor
sap who made the wrong mage mad." "What are you implying!?" The man bursts into laughter. "I think you know exactly what I'm implying!"The serving wench taps her foot impatiently. "Make that two ales and one slab of meat, make it extra rare and bloody," Fred tells her, disregarding the man's vulgar suggestion. He turns back to him, hoping to learn as much as he can about this city. "Vjorica seems to be in a state of civil turmoil..." "You're a perceptive one, aren't ya!" the man scoffs, giving Fred a dark look. "You picked the wrong time to come sight- seeing, stranger! If I were you I'd get the hell out of here before the real turmoil starts!""So there is much tension between the east-siders and west-siders?" Fred continues to prod, ignoring the man's cold demeanor. "Do you think that it will erupt into a full-scale civil war? Is there much resentment toward Castellan? Is there an organized resistance on the west side?" "You ask too many questions, stranger," the man warns, looking over his shoulder as if hidden eyes might be spying on them. He lowers his voice, adding, "You go around asking questions like that, you'll be dead before the next night-fog falls."The serving wench returns with two glass mugs and a small pewter plate. The man quaffs his ale, draining the entire mug in one long gulp. He belches in Fred's face and sets the empty mug down. "Get lost, fool," he says, standing up and making ready to leave. "We don't take kindly to strangers who meddle in our affairs. If I see your face in this tavern tommorow, I'll report you as a spy from the east side. We'll see how long you last then. Good day."
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2/25/2003 8:19:16 AM
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