Kit downed his drink. He wasn't adverse to good, hard alchohol, but tonight he was going sober... he needed his mind clear. The man across the table had not thought similarly, and slurred noticeably as he swayed in his seat.

"Just now, you mentioned the Benvolios. What were you saying?" Kit's voice was slow enough for the drunk to understand, but quiet. He leaned across the table as he spoke, praying there was not a Benvolio man in the bar tailing him, as there sometimes was.

The man paused, thinking. "Yeeeeeeeeeah... Benvooooolios.." He smiled, liking the elongated 'o'. "Benvoooooolio. BenvOOOOOOOOOOOOOOlio!"

Kit restrained himself, not reaching for his concealed dagger. "What were you saying?"

"Damn Benvoleeohs..." he slurred. "Control ev'ry damn thing. Damn. Thas why, s'soon s'I get outta heere, I'm goin' back tah.. tah... Rill-eh-kool."

Kit frowned, wishing the man could speak clearly. "Rillehkool? This is another world?"

The man didn't respond, though. He stared blankly ahead, still swaying, his obviously fogged mind wandering slowly elsewhere.

"Damn. Damnit!" He had been so close to getting his ticket out, and his source was too smashed to feed him the details. Temper flaring, he smashed a fist on the table. This caught the attention of a neighbor, who looked over his shoulder.

"You tryin' to talk to that one?" the stranger asked. "No use. He's too drunk to know whisky from piss."

"Yeah," replied Kit, "I got that."

"He's prolly crazy, too. Been ranting on about some world away from the Benvolios... Don't doubt there is one, but he's been saying there's a way to get there. Saying some homeless freak told 'im about it. Ha!"

Kit immediately became alert. "A freak? Did you hear him say where he was?"

"Uuh, probably. I think he kept talking about some corner somewhere, some corner mutie bum. Doubt you'll find him, but this drunk mentioned Fourty-third and Sumer Boulevard. Go check if you want, but it's a wild duck chase."

Two hours later Kit found himself striding down the dark, dangerous streets of New Berlin, counting the streets as he neared the intersection of Fourty-third and Sumer, a multipack over his shoulder. After his conversation with the stranger, he had returned to his apartment and retrieved the majority of his accumulation of... oddities. Valuable oddities. He never knew when they might come in handy.

He soon found himself at his destination. His keen eyes searched for the familiar huddle of a homeless person, checking all four corners. At first he didn't see him at all, until a flash of movement across the road indicated present life. He walked casually over, then tried to search his query out again.

When he finally saw the small bundle of rags on the ground, he realized why he'd had such a hard time finding it. The man was not pale-skinned, nor even brown like the descendants of the Terran Africans, but black like the night air around him. White hair peeked out of the creature's tattered hood. Drow, Kit realized, though he'd never seen one before.

"You, sir," he asked the man. "What can you tell me about Rillehkool?"

The man, obviously tired and hungry, slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his brow in thought for a moment, then something visibly clicked. "Rileikoul!" His voice was scratchy, brooding, but somehow light. He seemed happy to talk of what might have been his home to someone who wanted to listen. "The greatest city in the multiverse..."

He rambled for a few moments, describing an underground city of drow to the eager Kit. Finally, Kit cut him off. "And the Benvolios? Do they have power here?"

The drow laughed. "Never! As if humans could ever have power in the Drow City.. Besides, they haven't the slightest clue how to get there!" He laughed hoarsely again, though it quickly turned into a coughing fit.

"Man, listen! How do you get to this city?"

He looked suspicious. "You're not a Benny, are ya?"

Kit scoffed. "Never, and I thank whatever gods you like every day that I'm not. Unfortunately... they seem to have taken a liking to me. I'd like to get out of their reach for a while."

The drow nodded. "Well, it's simple. You just do this." He waved a rag-swathed hand.

Kit scoffed. "Waste of my time..." he mumbled, but as he turned to go, he stopped in his tracks. Before him, there shimmered a multiolored portal. It appeared almost liquid as it's surface shone every color imaginable. He turned and faced the drow, and wondered suddenly why, if he had this ticket home, he remained on the streets of New Berlin.

"Don't ask," the dark elf said gruffly, before Kit ever said a word. "But go. Or would you rather head back into the arms of the Benvolio?"

Kit nodded. No matter where this portal landed him, it was probably better than here. He stepped through.