"Bh'Tostl. You have a relation named Bh'Tostl?" Stran asked the demon, slamming the empty mug down on the counter.
At the bar and gathering up drinks for the thirsty patrons, the barmaids stopped and stared at Stran. The barkeep, beginning to set another frothy mug before another demon at the bar, stopped also and looked at him. Stran snatched the mug from the barkeep's hand and tossed its contents down his throat. Funny, his clearing thoughts suggested, he seemed to feel a bit more sobered by the drink.
He quickly grabbed the drink of the armor-clad demon and drank it. He snatched up poor Berik's who was gently sipping at his as if savoring a fine wine. Stran threw his head back and downed the mug falling off his stool in the process and hitting the plank flooring like a sack of potatoes.
"Excuse me," Berik said sliding off his own stool.
He lowered a hand to Stran. Stran pushed it away, blinked and looked about in astonishment as if he'd been blind and healed by some miracle. He looked up into the ruddy face of the dwarf. "My friend, a few drinks can clear a man's mind and, I can tell you, things are not as they seem here."
Mind clear as a crystal stream, thoughts gathered and body tense for action, Stran rose to his feet without the help of Berik. In his right hand he held Clawgibber; the black whip hung to the floor and though Stran wriggled it not, the unfurled coil slowly swayed like an awakened serpent.
"Clear the room, my friend. I have wasted enough time already," Stran said to Berik.
The dwarf, not exactly sure what was going on, took his great warhammer in hand and turned to the staring throng. "A'right, ya squinty-eyed sots! The Quasisigil is closed for the evening!"
"What is the meaning of this!" the barkeep exclaimed over the din of the fleeing customers who took little time to do as the stocky dwarf commanded.
Stran turned to the bar. The armor-clad one, who he had minutes ago questioned, looked at him with round eyes--human eyes showing human fear. The eyes were no longer yellow, nor did he have red skin or horns. He was simply a man. The people on the barstools quickly left their perches. Stran thought they would have never set their backsides on them if they saw what type of horrid creature served them.
"Bh'Tostl," Stran said to the portly bartender. "Bh'Tostl the Deceiver."
The barkeep was no longer human. Skin that rolled and curled like hot flames stood exposed, as did two great spiraling black horns from a bovine-shaped head. Yellow eyes glared at Stran in fiery anger. Those evil eyes narrowed and the red beast asked in a deep booming voice, "You can see my true form?"
"I was cursed with drunkness when I arrived. Now I am sober and see things as the souls you poison with your foul brew cannot." Stran snapped back his weapons arm. "It is time to retrieve what I came here for."
Clawgibber snapped out, its barbed length reaching for the big demon on the opposite side of the bar. The barmaids, their true demonic forms apparent in Stran's eyesight, leapt to intercept the black coil in the finger-twitch instant it took to reach Bh'Tostl. Two succubi latched their gnarled claw-tipped hands about the cord stopping it an eyelash distance from Bh'Tostl's throat. Stran yanked back on Clawgibber in an attempt to strip the cord away from demon barmaid's foul hands. The snarling fiends, gripping Clawgibber tight, rolled toward Stran, awful maws snapping and acidic drool flying from their full black lips.