"Hey, kid," Thran suddenly spoke up, "How old are you, exactly?"

Drayl, dodging to the right to avoid bumping into a small crowd, answered his acquaintance, "I'm 19. How old did you think i was, Thran?"

Thran looked him over. "You look about 13 to me, kid. you are shorter than most other kids your age."

"Hey, don't bring up that stuff, please," Drayl commented, "I'ts not exactly my fault I'm so short. I drink milk."

Thran thrust a bottle into his hand, "No wonder you're so small, kid. You need to drink more brandy. It should perk you up nicely."

"I don't drink, Thran," Drayl replied, "Besides, where I come from I'm not even of age."

Thran just shrugged. "More for me then. Do you ever drink at all?"

Drayl looked at him with a slightly blank look. "Only on special occasions, and i don't count my Deeprealm as one of them."

"Oh," Thran had a strange look on his face. "I must be so drunk, I've nearly forgotten."

Drayl just sighed and pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. "Here," he threw it to Thran, who successfully caught it, "Drink a sip of this, it should cure that clouding of the mind."

Thran, without thinking, took a small sip and nearly spit it out. "What is this?! Ironwood extract?!"

Nearly falling down with laughter, Drayl answered him. "Yes, it is."

"Why would you give me this?!" Thran picked up Drayl, ready to toss him.

Drayl, aware of what was happening, seeing the crowd gather, calmly asked his next question. "That cloud still over your head?"

Thran realized what he was doing and set Drayl down. "No, it isn't. Sorry, kid. I never thought-"

"You never thought it would work?" Drayl looked carefully at his big friend. "Well, Thran, I have had a lot of practice over the years. And about that drink from earlier?" Drayl reached into Thran's pack where the lip of the bottle was, "I think I'll have it now."