[Ilphy's Office]

"So Gordon tries his hand at converting some ships of the Empire into swiss cheese submarines. Empire retaliates. I warp in and cover Gordon while he withdraws through a portal I conjure up. And that was that."

The Hatter expounds, gradually reclining in his chair.

"They probably survived to this day. Probably. At least one or two of them. They're occupation is risky, but I don't think their life expectancy is that short!"

-------
[Main Room]

Supreme smelling salts it is, then! Clarissa's own foul, fizzling, and popping concoction, the likes of which were never meant to be inhaled by humans, no less! Clarissa summons up a small tube of the chemical and attempts to sweep it back and forth in front of Zefir's nose. This should, by all right, kick him back to consciousness like nothing else on the face of the Nexus!

"Then try Trog's if you aren't ready for the big time. Lotsa people there. Good crowd. Full of hero-wannabes. Jerks instigating barfights every five minutes or so like clockwork. Fun place to be if you're yearning for a serving of mischief and are up for making a scene."

Clarissa whispers, doing her best not to rouse Zefir too forcefully.

"Just keep an eye peeled for the crazy heroes around there. They flock to the pub like fruitflies to a mango and they are refreshingly trigger-happy."