"The Journey Man". The journeyman. Very appropriate, though it really should have been "The Journey Woman".
"The Journey Man". It's a tavern, or inn, or whatever they called a bar in ye olden days.
There is something so soothing and poetic about the way the moonlight is reflected on the clean and clear surface of the water.
The water's clean, and clear.
Nah-ah, I'm not about to walk around in a strange city in the middle of the night wearing nothing but...this.
...oh (gasps). Not again. Not now (sighs).
I hope this is a dream. I really do, because if Cortez didn't open a Shift...who did?
And how will I get home again on my own?
No dream. And I'm guessing this is Marcuria. It smells like it, like a mix between fresh flowers and cow dung.
There's some kind of party going on in there.
It may look perfectly clean, and clear as the starry sky, but who knows what diseases they got here in Marcuria.
No, it's dark, and there are probably monsters, and I'm wearing my nightie.
