Excerpt taken Tours of the Forbidden Ocean: A Promenade Amidst Sharks, by Sir Garrett Campbell..
*** And it came to be that I needed a horse in this oceanic city, because my attorney and good friend, Bretno the Dwarf, had come down with a symptoms of what I believed to be bowel obstruction. Indeed, my beautiful friend had taken on too many debts from too many dares at too many taverns, and we found ourselves chained by his abdominal conflagrations. So, we went to a pony exchange run, which doubled as a brothel and a tavern.
The place was called The Dragon's Nest, and it has a sort of mystique about it that few places possesses. People have died here.
That's the sensation you get, which might not be adequate for a tavern or brothel, much less a pony exchange, but there you go. The Dragon's Nest is run by the Dragons, a club of scholarly ne'er-do-wells that really, really, really like horses. Their pony exchange is pretty stellar, and the horses are all well-maintained and well-fed on a diet of mountain grass and sea kelp. The stables houses nearly twenty horses at any given time, and the Dragons further keep an additional range along Mt. Andrew to the South-East where they keep nearly 80 more horses to pasture. Furthermore, at any given time, the Dragons look after an additional 10-15 horses. Some say that the horses were stolen, and indeed, you sort of get the sense that a lot of what's happening at the Dragon's Nest is of the illicit variety.
I imbibed in illegal alcohols. I partook in illegal drugs. I think I participated in an illegal venture, because I distinctly remember watching someone get killed, but I'm not 100% on that because I was pretty messed up.
The Dragon's Nest has a long stable, which abuts to the sides of a long, tall, and narrow building. From what I could see, the first floor was a tavern. A great deal of revelry takes place there, and many prostitutes and courtesans earn their wages here by picking Johns. I was fresh out of money, so I didn't partake... at least, not the first time I went. The second and third story were different rooms. The basement, however, was a tricky thing, and I saw many comings and goings of sinister types. Bretno the Dwarf and I did
see the bottom of that smelly hole, and it looked more like a twisted depiction of a court.
This is where Bretno the Dwarf was sentenced for killing a prostitute. Alas, that's the last day that I saw my dear friend alive.