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Like any other city, Ganelon has its more prosperous neighborhoods and its slums. There is little demarcation between the two aside from the major features that form a dividing line.

One is the railways. The depot is in the more affluent part of the city as this mode of travel can be expensive but the railyards themselves can be found closer to the impoverished hovels, those squat towers of brick and stone constructed by charity and then given over to the unfortunate.

Another is the bridge over the river that feeds into the bay. It seems that, while there are wealthy homesteads on either side, the area immediately surrounding the waterfront is composed either of docks, piers, warehouses and shipyards or the housing for those who work in them, none of those vocations paying particularly well. There is a thriving merchantile district along the main roads that lead to the bridge, with goods from all over Angalon for sale. Crowds can be found here and thus so can cutpurses and pickpockets to prey upon them.

The Wrongside is apparently named after the location in the city where it can be found; on the opposite side of the river and the far edge of the railway depot. It doesn't require much inquiry for Alysa to obtain directions. She never spent much time in Ganelon but she is the daughter of mariners and knows how to approach them. The dock workers, and their foreman, are all more than eager to assist a beautiful young woman in her pursuits and some even offer to meet her at the tavern later.

The Wrongside is, in fact, a massive beached freighter that has been dragged further up the shoreline and simply converted into a tavern. It lies on its side and the hold serves as the main taproom while there smells to be kitchens somewhere in one of the adjoining rooms. The clientele are of the sort Alysa would expect, the very same as she might find in a lowly pub in Damora. Most of them are drunken fishermen down on their luck, mariners on shore leave or otherwise unemployed laborers spending their last bit of coin on liquor.

Compared to the composure of the House of Law, the Wrongside is chaos, but it is a controlled chaos. There are loud sea shanties being sung and rather rustic but pretty looking bar wenches moving about in tight corsets, loose blouses and swirling skirts exposed their tanned skins and messy hair. Behind what appears to be the counter, there is an enormously fat man with a thick mustache juggling bottles as he serves patrons while a slender young boy at his side catches anything the barkeep drops and spares the customers the sound of shattering glass.

'Ho there!' cries the bald barkeep, his heavy whiskers and sagging jowls shaking, 'welcome to the Wrongside!' He spots Alysa almost immediately as she is cleaner than anything in that entire establishment, including the glasses.

Alysa can't help but wonder just how many such offers she's declined today, saying that she had business there but would probably not be around when the men were. She smiled each time though and told them perhaps another time she would join them. The act gets a little old but it does little to fade the smile on her face as she follows the directions the dock workers give her and continues her journey to the Wrongside, deep in thought about what she might find there.

Somehow she is not surprised when she stumbles upon the beached frieghter, flashing the bartender the same enchanting smile she used on the dock workers. "I was told to find Madame Archel, perhaps you know where she might be?"

'Rollo at your service!' shouts the fat barkeep even though Alysa is less than an arm's length away from him. The thin, pale boy beside him smiles hesitantly at Alysa. 'Madame Archel is in the back. Did you bring an item?'

'What be your poison?' Rollo bellows in his gravelly but bombastic voice. 'We have rum and brandy and many kinds of fine vintage wines, some of which are stolen from the best shops in Angalon!'

The boy rolls his dark eyes and shakes his head, stirring his straw like black hair. 'Don't mind him. He's deaf.'

He pokes Rollo in the side with his finger. Rollo, who wears a fancy red commander's jacket with many missing brass buttons that exposed his bare chest beneath, turns towards the boy.

'What say you, little fellow?' he roars.

Pointing at Alysa, the boy pantomimes something that Alysa cannot quite make out but it causes Rollo to suddenly become very solemn. He places a sweaty hand on Alysa's shoulder, nods and shouts loudly, 'So sorry for your loss!'

Alysa can't help but wonder what silent conversation has just occurred in front of her. She simply shrugs off the man's words with a sweet smile. The mention of wine causes her to involuntarily shudder , apparently this aversion is going to last awhile longer than she thought.

"I've had enough poison to last me the rest of my life boys, perhaps some other time" she laughs, keeping the true meaning of her words hidden. Part of her mind is wondering just what Captain Brawne has gotten her into and whether she can truly trust the man. But she is reassured by the fact that Madame Archel is indeed here.

"Perhaps it's best if I just conclude my business and be on my way, can't imagine having a pretty young woman like me around here will do anything good for yours, might give the customers the wrong impression" she winked and laughed a little, looking around the room.

Rollo nods pleasantly, grinning, as he watches Alysa talk but his young companion says again, 'You wish to see Madame Archel, it will be a silver at least and you'll need an object belonging to the departed.'

Around her, the various occupants of the tavern have quieted somewhat and are looking over at Alysa. She is certainly conspicuous and even some of the barmaids glare in her direction as she has temporarily distracted their patrons from the flirtations intended, most likely, to garner them more tips.

Alysa laughs, certain she could easily relieve some of the men in the room of a silver or more with nothing more than a look. She's now very curious as to why Robur sent her here, he has to know that she has nothing that belongs to Mira, after all from what she can assume, he was the one that carried her out of that wretched place. "A silver huh? Even for a pretty little thing like me?"

'She's very good!' Rollo bellows, grinning still wider. The barmaids, including a heavy set blonde, a rather voluptuous but plain faced brunette and a freckled young redhead, make their way back to the counter, prompting Rollo to waddle over towards them to receive their orders.

The boy sighs impatiently. 'You can't just stroll here without any coin or anything and just ask to speak to Madame Archel. I don't know who told you about her but she's very busy. Now, if you have a silver, I can get you a meeting with her but you best not waste her time.' He leans in closer so that Alysa can see his bony face. 'She knows sorcery,' he whispers.

'Wot's this bird want then?' asks the blonde barmaid, baring her rotted teeth when she speaks. Her face is scarred in places and her hair is a tangled mess.

'None of your business, wench!' The boy snaps, scowling at the woman. 'Tend to your customers before I tell Rollo you've been stealing from the till again!'

'You little shit!' The blonde spits at the boy, a wad of phlegm spattering across the counter.

'Back to your work, you dogsick cunt!' The boy snarls at the woman, pulling out a knife from the belt wrapped around his tattered shirt and ragged jeans. 'Or shall I cut your lovehole wider so you can fit more than one of these drunken louts in your womb, you nasty slag!'

Despite his proficiency in profanity, the boy couldn't be more than ten or twelve years old and not especially large. Still, the blonde gazes in horror at the knife like a woman who has had once used on her more than once. She turns and grabs her tray of drinks, spilling one of them as the tankard splashes to the floor.

'Now,' the boy says, turning back to face Alysa, 'where were we?'

Alysa couldn't help but roll her eyes, it wasn't like she hadn't dealt with kids like him before when she was growing up in Damora and Viktoron. "Listen here you little puke" she growls, letting the murderous glint flare in her icy blue eyes, "my business is my business and I suggest you keep your nose out of it, I've killed bigger rats than you in my sleep". The bandit somehow knows that this kid is immune to charm and decides that she's going to channel her energy into intimidating him into giving her what she needed, after all there's more than one way to skin a cat.

'Oh,' the boy smirks wickedly, pulling out his knife and idly playing with it, the blade flashing in the dim sunlight that filters through the grimy line of portholes that run along the ceiling. 'So is that you want to play it, bitch? You think because you're pretty I'm just going to let you walk right in here and do whatever you please? Now it will cost you a whole crown to see Madame Archel or you can try to fight your way through all of us.

'I think we have a Stalker here, folks!' he cries. Almost immediately the barmaids pull the pistols they have secured somewhere on their persons, either beneath their skirts or tucked in the back of their blouses while Rollo, realizing the situation is dire, yanks out the gaffe hook hanging at his side and holds it up menacingly at Alysa. Even some of the customers, those that are armed, unskin their pieces and point them at Alysa while those who lack any firearms either slip out the entrance or stay in their seats to enjoy the show.

'Nobody here for you to take in, Stalker, and they'd need to send more than one of you to get ahold of Madame Archel. So, how about this? You take off those nice clothes for us and dance and maybe we won't make you fuck the dog as an encore.'

"If i was still a stalker boy you'd be dead where you stand by now. Didnt you hear? They threw me out. Killed a man. Protecting a bunch like you. Killed my own partner. Wanna try again?" Her voice is low and calm despite the fact she's unarmed.

'Maybe you did and maybe you didn't,' the boy retorts with a sly sideways smirk on his youthful face, 'but I think these boys deserve a show after all the trouble you've put them through so get off those clothes or Rollo will come over there and take them off for you.'

Rollo just stands there snarling, gripping the large hook in his hand and bringing it slowly across his own throat in a threatening gesture or warning of what he intends to do with it.

'To Hades with that,' the redhead barmaid snorts. 'Let's just take out one of her pretty eyes as a warning for others like her not to come here uninvited.'

She seems confident enough as does her blonde companion but the brunette holds her pistol in a trembling, awkward hand and appears very nervous. The four patrons who also have guns trained on her, two of them who are clearly sailors and the other two appearing to just be men in worn clothing, whose occupations, if they have them, are indistinguishable.

'No,' the boy states calmly. 'The boys want a show and this impolite bitch is going to put on one for them.'

'Why bother,' the blonde barmaid growls. 'Let's just blow out her kneecaps and toss her off the pier and see if she can swim back to shore before the sharks eat her.'

"Oh really boys?" She asks setting her hand on her hip. "You have no clue what ive been through this week and i would suggest you dont make me angry because i might not be out for your blood yet but i can certainly add you to the list if you really want to push your luck. Now you want to act like an adult, act like one but dont go running to the grownups to protect you when someone calls your bluff"

She suddenly laughs and ruffles the kids hair, suddenly the playful rogue rather than the cold blooded exstalker "you remind me of me at your age kid, you're going places. Just watch out for beautiful women promising you things, it never ends well."

The boy doesn't hesitate to slash Alysa along the breast, blood blossoming across her white robes like a crimson flower. 'Don't touch me, cunt, or the next time I slit your throat, do you understand?'

Rollo, by this time, strides forward and pushes the boy back in a protective gesture while bringing the hook so that the point is just beneath Alysa's chin, presuming she has moved. The barmaids keep their pistols pointed at Alysa, the blonde and the redhead appearing very eager to have the opportunity to shoot her.

'What in the name of Myrkas is happening out here?' The full figured, large bosomed dark haired woman in a form fitting corset that is as black as her skirt and stockings stands in the slanted doorway next to the bar. She has a rather ornate dagger tucked into her belt and she is dressed in much more expensive fashion than anyone else in the tavern.

Alysa turns her enchanting smile on the woman, despite the fact that she's between a rock and a hard place at the moment.

"Madame Archel i presume? My name is Alysa and I believe we have business to discuss if you could call off the guard dogs".

If she cant intimidate or charm the rest of them she might as well turn the charm on the woman who seems to be in charge.

The woman blinks at Alysa, gazing down to the expanding red stain on the front of the blonde's robes and shakes her head.

'Chase, what is the meaning of this?' she asks.

Peeking out from behind Rollo, the boy protests. 'She came in here asking to see you, I mean, asking to see Madame Archel and then she was very rude to me and she tried to grab me so I cut her!'

The wound is fairly deep and likely to leave a slight scar across Alysa's breast. She can feel the blood oozing down her chest as well as coloring her clothing.

'What did I tell you about stabbing guests?' the woman snaps. She gestures with her hand and the knife suddenly jerks out of the boy's grip and flies into her grasp. 'No more knives for you until you learn to behave.'

She glances around at the barmaids, who continue to level their pistols at Alysa. 'You lot,' the sorceress says with authority, 'put away your pistols and get back to work!'

'Now, before I have Rollo make bait out of you for tonight's catch,' the mysterious woman states to Alysa, her hands on her wide hips and her silken shawl wound around both arms, 'you best tell me what your business is.'

Alysa grins and pulls the paper from her pocket, slipping it to the woman, "I was hoping you could tell me Madame". A scar is the least of her worries after the ordeal at Redclyffe, in fact she might even see it as proof she's still alive since she knew that Mira does not get injured.

"It seems someone else sent me to you, so unfortunately I cannot speak for his motive, I'm merely following the paper trail as it were" she smiles to the woman.

"Hmm, would you look at that, looks like I've got a bit more blood in me than they thought I did, ah well such is life" she remarks rather bemusedly though still unconcerned having seen enough of her own blood lately to not be bothered by it.

The woman motions to Rollo who snatches the note out of Alysa's grasp. He snorts like an angry bull and then reads it. Eyes widening, Rollo drops his hook to the floor, where it falls with a clatter and he stammers at the woman. 'Ro-ro-ro-robur!'

Smiling slightly and shaking her head, the sorceress says, 'You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd just given that note to Rollo from the beginning. You must not be from around here or you'd know not to show up dressed like that and asking about Madame Archel.'

She glares at the boy, waggling his knife at him. Chase pouts and folds his arms, looking like a child who has gotten his favorite toy taken away, which in many respects is precisely the situation. 'You just attacked the Captain's guest. He's not going to be happy. He might hang you from the yardarm. While we're travelling!'

The boy looks pleadingly at the woman and then to Alysa before turning away, sobbing. The sorceress winks at Alysa.

'Since the Captain sent you, and I know his handwriting, I guess we best take care of you. I'm sure Magda can cook up something to help with that wound. Come on back.' She beckons with a vigorous hand motion.

'Back to work, ladies!' The woman suddenly shouts at the barmaids. The brunette wench has already put away her pistol and resumed tending to the patrons but the other two are still pointing their pistols at Alysa. 'You put any more holes in this woman and the Captain'll have your hides!'

Reluctantly, they also tuck their guns away while the sorceress stands there, waiting for Alysa.

Alysa can't help but laugh, she knew she could have handed over the letter at any point, but something about being forced to deal with the lawgivers and their rules for so long had left her with a bit of taste for trouble and she just couldn't help but stir things up a little, unarmed or not.

"Don't be too hard on the kid Madame, I've spent the past few weeks as a guest of the lawgivers, needed to flex my muscles a little bit and make sure I still had my senses about me, you know how it is I'm sure. As for the matter of my attire, well I would've dressed for the occasion but well seems like when your friend Captain Brawne rescued me a few weeks ago getting my things was not high on his list of priorities, although if it had been I would likely be dead so I suppose I shall have to make do".

She toys with the end of her braid as she walks in the direction the woman gestures, she barely noticed the pain of her wound, though that may simply be the adrenaline running through her veins once again. It seems like forever since she'd felt like this and it reminds her that this is the life she craves, always seconds away from disaster, lurking in the shadows and always one step ahead of the law. She realizes with a smirk that this is what she would have missed most had she given into Mira's offer, the danger of it all. Where is the fun if you cannot be harmed?