Chapter 155: Forbidden Lines
The adventurer’s bar was a far cry from what Kir remembered as he stepped into the mostly-empty lounge.
Instead of skilled warriors and mages of all stripes, the place was a ghost town hosting some unsavory-looking individuals and the bartender, who kept a more wary eye on the place from his station.
His wary eyes quickly sized up Kir and Noir; the former dressed in a hooded cloak to better hide his features.
"I might be a bit," Kir warned Noir. "Want to come with?"
They’d come here mostly because it was closeby to the midwife who was examining Sam. Most of their time had spent wandering between one point in the city and another as they were sent on dead-end searches. They must have visited a dozen midwife homes, whose tenants had either already left the city or were too busy to see them, before finding one a four-block walk from the bar.
"I, ah, have a thing about permanent marks on flesh..." Noir rubbed the back of his head. "But you go ahead. I’ll just get a drink and..." he looked around and swallowed "...hopefully live to tell you about it."
Kir gave him a reassuring touch on the shoulder and headed upstairs.
Hopefully, Moshui would be happy to see him. He ascended the stairs to find that her old door had been replaced with something quite beefier: An iron door with enchantments for hardness, repulsion, and something to do with sound, according to Kir’s manasight.
A series of signs in various Aytherian languages declared: "RING THE BELL!"
Kir looked until he saw the small drawstring and tugged it. From the other side a bell chimed, and a few stumbling sounds later, a panel slid open and Moshui looked out. Then up so she could see his face.
"Oh hey! It’s you! Ripples and storage, right?"