[Funkduder]

Michael was thinking about what he wrote in his journal the night before as he walked into the city:

Year 4, Day 127:
It was never hard to get used to the changing weather in this world I call home. It's at least better than the weather in Perdition or Sheol. At least here the weather is slightly more gentle.

But that's beside the point. In one day I will reach the City of Corinth, probably by afternoon. I need funds. My current research has come to a halt, and I can't barter for more goods or I'll just hurt myself more. Perhaps Corinth would have some work, or if not, I can hopefully enlist the help of the Saints and get some form of information on the difference in Psychic "mind-reading" and Theurgist "mind-reading".

Entering the bar, Michael walked to the barman. Keeping his voice low and inconspicuous, he asked him, "You've seen any good work lately?"

"Actually, yeah. You don't look like the type, but there's word on the street for the need of a body-guard. Look for the lady in the blood-red hood."

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate it. Call me Haydn. I'll be staying in town for a while," said Michael as he disappeared into the crowd again to look for the cloak that's bloody red..