London is most becoming when the fog is thickest.  It is much easier to see clearly without the buildings and people cluttering up you vision.  Tonight a beggar walks the streets of Veilgarden clad head to toe in the aged garb of a fine Zea Captain.  A brimmed black hat with the image of an eye sewn on the front, coat of navy blue down to the knees and shiny black boots.  She would wear the clothes of a beggar as she is no longer a Captain, but nowhere in London sells "beggar uniforms" so she doesn't know what they look like.

With fingers laced behind her back and shoulders hunched, she trotts and gallops through these familiar streets, singing in the gentlest of tones:

[i]"As the souls of the dead fill the space of my mind
I'll search without sleeping, 'til peace I can find.
I fear not the weather, I fear not the zea.
I remember the fallen, do they think of me
When my bones in the ocean, forever will be?"[/i]

She prances playfully, passing and gracing every manner of artist, scoundrel, lover and orphan with her zongs of the zea.  When her trotting brings her past the doorstep of The Singing Mandrake just in time to hear a loud crash, the shivering of glasses, and the exchanging of apologies.  The beggar ponders aloud,

[i]"The Singing Mandrake always has a lad of ambition willing to part with an echo or two, for a tale or three; and from the sound of things, something interesting just happened inside!"[/i]

Now with anticipation she enters with an assertive stance and scans the room taking note of the populated turnout of the night.  She notices a woman lying on a table speaking with the man seated there.

[i]"Curious,"[/i] she said, [i]"I did not know the Singing Mandrake as place to eat people; and it appears you even get the luxury of speaking with your dish.  I hope that man has more guests on the way, I doubt he could finish the whole thing alone."[/i]

Realizing she has been speaking at an audible level this whole time, she slaps her palm across her mouth and continued speaking until the thought was done.  She turns to take a table near the stage, unaware of any attention her nonsensical monologue may have drawn.