He's heard something like this. People turn up, they can't leave, demons. Demons get mentioned a lot. He's still not seen any for himself, but then again, he's hardly done much here.

"Everyone talks about the demons," He says, "What are they? Monsters?"

No one here seems to really tell him what is going on, or can't.

"Not much good in bars. Unless they want someone to drink their beer or keep out the drunks." He's no bar-man, and he doesn't sing, or play anything other than the piano, but he doesn't do that well. "Don't think I'm gonna be getting a job with you Airy." He adds, with a disappointed shrug. "Unless that brothel wants me."

"Six pints of this?" He picks up his drink again, and downs it. Yeah, that's tart. And it burns. He's not going to do that again. "No. I don't think so. Pick another drink."