Gibs and Castien find themselves outside the Court Tavern. The troll bouncer pointed them toward a taxi. The massive vehicle looked like it fell out of a 1950's movie set in old New York City. The gold body was polished to a gleam. It reflected bright street lights. As they came closer the interior dome light flicked on, while the driver widow rolled open. "Heys there macs. You my fare for the night?" the driver asked. In the driver seat appeared a scruffy dwarf. He wore a brown heavy wool jacket of a dull green shirt. He kept a golf cap low on his brow, almost hiding his eyes. His brown long hair appeared neat, and almost his the rig cord as it snaked up the right side of his head. His facial whiskers looked like they hadn't been touched in about three days. A faint floral soapy scent wafted out his window. "So what is it? A bachelor party? Who's da lucky guy?" he asked while inspecting them, "Your buddy in there, booked this charter for a couple hours."