"In the Mires, every door has a key and every key a price. The Guilds however, will care little for your precious coin. Be wary of what they ask and what you barter in return; For the true price you pay may not be known for many cycles."
The words rattled out from the merchants mouth with yellowed smoke. The languid tendrils lingered around his head, its sweet smell saturating the chambers still air. He thumbed another handful of herb into his pipe and pulled deeply before speaking again. The cherried bowl crackled and spit, small embers dancing in front of his face.
"For what you seek young traveller, for where you're going, I fear you will need something precious indeed. Something I may be able to help with..." A wry smile crept across his face as he finished. He disappeared briefly and then returned, his hands producing a small spherical shape. Olutai could feel the power of the object from where he stood, its round form hidden, wrapped tightly in white silk.