“Oh where the river flows and the drinks are cold…the wind will blow and tonight we’ll go to the O’l Influunt Tavern” the bartender quietly sung to himself.

The empty bar reverberating his whispered tune. The bar on the water had not had visitors since the spring up above was dammed off by the Oman empire. There were regulars for a while who still came. However folks left the town in search of work since the local fishing market was now just a piece of history. Snarl was the last customer to stop coming when he passed away last week. That old snaggle toothed man drank enough to keep a keg a week stocked and enough to lead him to an early grave.

Sighing in exasperation the bartender quietly closed the door and flipped the sign to closed. He closed his eyes and for second thought he heard river…