...the dank stale-brew stench of a dark tavern bustling with raucous violence and slams a fist on the bar!

"Ale!" I demanded with a stern, wide-eyed gaze at the slovenly barkeep as I drew my hand away leaving a few coins. A wench caught my eye and slid up to embrace me with promises of pleasure, but deserved no more than a sideways glance.

As the barkeep obliged my order I drank the flaggon to the bottom and growled, "Another!"

Spinning around to size up the crowd, I took the second flaggon and headed for a back table in the shadow of a large staircase, swept the old tankards and stale food to the floor, and sat, brooding, gazing, and hunched over my drink.

"Well then..." I trailed off, finishing the last of a few dozen ales for the night. My eyes tried to follow each other but in doing so spun in different directions. As one eye chased the other, the disorienting sight made me smile briefly in glee. Only briefly.

I slammed down my fist to the alcohol-soaked table, crashing it and several tankards in different directions. I stumbled toward the general direction of the door, meandering wildly through the crowd and knocking over occupied tables and chairs.

"Ta hell wish fish iz nobutty drinkin' wit may..." I muttered as the fight erupted from behind in the wake of chaos. Spinning around to view the brawl with chameleon eyes, the din echoing in my brain, the swelling disorientation rose but was knocked back by a flying clay flaggon to the temple. Not enough to knock me out, but enough to sober up and pick a nearby victim to receive a hammer-fisted punch!

Now it was a party....