“What...”
Fiona stammers, taken aback by this strange panorama, “What is all
this?”
“Fresh
dreamers,” one of the dock workers begins to shout, plying his
wares. “Fresh dreamers! Straight off the boat!”
“This,
m'lady,” Strauss replies, “Is the Harbour. These sailors venture
out into the Ocean of Dreamers to catch the minds of those that sleep
in the Warp, then sell them here on the quay to whichever of the
embodiments will pay the most.”
“Okay,”
Fiona says cautiously, “Why? Surely when the dreamer wakes up,
they just disappear.”
“True,”
Strauss confirms, “But in the hands of a skilled manipulator they
can be highly entertaining until they do. It's the oldest sport in
the Weave, and the only way most of our kind will ever touch the
Warp.”
