Klein stared at the thick, dark blue liquid—it was hard to tell if it was a cup or a block—and swallowed hard.
"Just drink it like this?" he asked
. "Nothing else needed? Like a ritual, incantation, or prayer?"
Old Neil stammered.
"Preparations? Yes, there are. First, have a glass of Intis's Ormir wine, then smoke a Dixie cigar, hum a melodious tune, dance a light court dance (tap dancing is fine too), and finally, a game of Gwent..."
Seeing Klein's increasingly dazed expression, Old Neil smiled and summarized the earlier description:
"If you feel nervous..."
...You're quite humorous... Klein's lips twitched, resisting the urge to draw his gun.
He put down his cane, extended his right hand, and lifted the opaque cup as if it were a heavy object. The potion's scent was faint and eth
