The loud clatter of iron woke her, but she didn't have a chance to even open her eyes before the eye watering pain nearly shattered her skull. Maker's soggy balls, her head hadn't ached like this in a long time. She curled into a tight ball and took slow breaths through clenched teeth. What had she been drinking? The sound of laughter next to her almost made her jump out of her skin.

"I don't know what poison you prefer, serah, but whatever it was, it chewed you up and spat you out a bronto's ass."

Meghan turned to look at the source of that rude, extremely grating voice. A dwarf sat beside her, well dressed, with a short, neatly trimmed beard. She glared at him, all the while slowly pulling herself to a sitting position, no matter that her head felt like a three ton rock on her head. Slowly, that stone swiveled to the right, and the left, revealing to her the far too familiar confines of a jail cell.

"All right then, if you're so damn clever then how'd I end up here?"

A suave smile answered her, along with another chuckle. "Nothing's for free, serah."

"Are you mad? Do I look like I've got any coin on me?"

"No, but I'm sure you've got friends who'll be looking for you."

Her glare darkened. "Oh, aye, and they won't look kindly on the extortionist sitting next to me, I promise you that." His smile didn't budge, so after a long moment she growled in frustration. "Fine, you'll get your gold, just tell me what happened."

The dwarf sat up straight, pointedly offering his hand. "That's not how this works. Let's be a bit more civil, shall we? Wouldn't want to start off our relationship on the wrong foot. My name is Lumor Byron."

Suddenly, she found herself struggling with the sudden urge to punch him in the face. Cocky bastard. But she didn't have much of a choice, so she shook his hand shortly, pulling back as soon as possible. "Sorcha Taggart. Now talk."

Lumor sat back with an exaggerated sigh. "No manners left in today's youth. Such a pity. There used to be standards." One more sigh, and he continued. "From what I heard between the guards, they found you in the stables outside the Inn. Out cold and covered in vomit."

Meghan's shoulders relaxed just a bit. "Oh, well, that's not-"

"-Next to a woman with her insides cut out."

"...Oh." Eyes wide, Meghan was silent for a few minutes, letting that sink in. "Look, Lumor, I didn't kill anyone. At least, I'm pretty sure I didn't. I don't tend to go after women unless they try to kill me first."

He folded his hands in his lap, looking up at her as if critiquing her. "So what do you remember?"

She shook her head. "I... I was playing cards. Pretty much forced my way in the game, kept sweet talkin' the group leader so he wouldn't see me cheating. 'Bout the third round things got... swimmy. Too swimmy. I fell over. That's it. Andraste's arse, my head hurts. Worst whiskey I've ever choked down."

Lumor contemplated that for a moment. "You sure it was whiskey? Didn't taste strange to you?"

About to dismiss the idea offhand, Meghan suddenly did recall something. Something bitter. At the time she'd assumed it was bile- she'd been drinking long enough. And now she was thinking of it, that bitterness had seemed familiar... It took her a few minutes, but when she placed it, her eyebrows snapped down. "Oh, that bastard."

Meghan clung to the wall, forcing her watery arms to pull up her to her feet inch by inch. Then she staggered to the bars, and called to the lone guard on patrol- young kid. Good. Easy to scare. "Oy- you! C'mere! You locked me up with a madman! He's got a shiv!"

To her surprise, the kid actually hurried over. Child's play. As soon as he was close Meghan grabbed him, twisting the fabric at the collar of his uniform to pull him right up against the bars.

"Good boy. Now, pay attention." Meghan breathed in his face, and the guard immediately turned his head, gagging. "Tell me, that smell like soldier's bane to you?"

"I- I don't know-"

"Then check it again!" Meghan breathed at him once more, and this time, the guard looked like he might be sick. "What does that smell like to you?"

He glanced at her, his head still turned to the side. "It... It smells like you... h-had a... a hard night. Serah."

She laughed bitterly, pressing as close as the bars allowed. "Oh, aye. I did. And you're going to run off and tell the Captain of the Guard that I was dosed-" Her voice lowered, nothing but menace. "-Or you're gonna stay right here, and we'll have a nice, long conversation. Y'ken?"

Overwhelmed by the stench of whiskey and vomit, the guard nodded enthusiastically. "Yes- yes, Serah! Right away!"

"Off you go, then." Meghan released him, and he stumbled backward, gagging once more. Just one look at her was all it took, and then he bolted for the door. She'd have laughed at the terror on his face if she weren't in so much pain. As it was, Lumor laughed enough for both of them, and she slid to the ground beside him with a groan.

"Oh, that was well worth my time, Serah. Thank you." He got to his feet, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. "Most entertaining questioning I've done in years."

Meghan blinked. "Wait- you're-"

"Guard-Captain, yes. I tend to get more honest answers out of people like this. Unorthodox, perhaps, but it's effective." He took advantage of her shock to unlock the door and let himself out, locking it again with a swift, practiced motion before she could even get halfway off the ground. "I look forward to the trial, Serah Taggart." With that, he gave her a mock salute, and followed after the guard.

Long seconds passed as Meghan stood there, gaping. Her mind was struggling to process all of that, and at the end of it, there was only one phrase that seemed appropriate, and she muttered it as she slumped to the floor yet again.

"Maker's soggy balls."