Again Xylin looked about the room, expecting at least one of the local drunkards to have spat out his ale at the spectacle, and yet on they drank,...
Xylin’s escape thereafter involved no more bloodshed, shifting to his insubstantial form to become almost invisible in the shadows and once again...
Prologue Again he swallowed, and again the stinging ichor these westerners dared call wine made Xylin want to retch. Was he drunk? Surely not....
