Sharks and Whales and Other Games
The Winds of Storm had a common room that rivaled the Trader's Inn for size, but the walls were bare and the flooring was a patchwork of new wood mixed with splintered planks. The floor had gouges in it caked with grime and muck. More than a few chairs sat on bowed legs, and the tables were old and rickety with crumbs and spilled ale on top. The Traders Inn would have put this to shame, Wisp thought.
The smell of fish permeated the place, as it did the whole city. Wisp coughed as a lung full of tobacco smoke caught him unaware. He brushed a strand of brown hair from his forehead and gazed out over a long crooked nose. With his olive skin he could have been mistaken for a Gendan. "We could have done with a few nights as busy as this in Sykor," he said to
