"Your funeral, son." Hopestone said as she poured Lammy a second one, chuckling at their reactions. "Liquor 'round these parts isn't what I'd call smooth sophistication." She withdrew two larger pewter cupss and filled them with dark beer from a keg behind the bar, setting them in front of Lammy and Eranah. 

"Now, what else can I tell you?"

"What -is- this place?" Lily said.

"I don't rightly know." Hopestone hunched forward, leaning her elbows on the bar. "Local legends say people have been taken by the Mists for a long time and ended up here, and no one ever finds a way out again. I reckon that if you trace it far enough back at the root of every family tree here is someone who got taken from a world like yours or mine. I know that there's something wrong about this place, a Priest of Pelor I befriended years back told me that as soon as he came here he felt wrong, like the sun's rays didn't feel the same. Say it's like there's something between us and the Gods here." 

Lily went visibly paler, her lips pressed tightly together. 

Hopestone's eyes flicked to the windows. "Sun's about down. You folk need a place to hang your head for the night? The Scarlet Jester's open, although the rooms might be a shade on the dusty side. I haven't had guests in far too long."

After a few moments Lily spoke. "That sounds like a good idea to me." She said, her color returning.