I think that the first thing you get after walking the pattern should be an instruction book on the 'dos' and 'don'ts' of shifting. The elders know all this stuff but, let me guess, we are 'better people for learning it on our own' right?

I am now at the place I have heard called New York City. Dirty place -- I don't think I'll come back to it. There seems to be some sort of celebration going on -- either that or these people worship three and four-leaf clovers. I am more inclined to think the prior to the latter.

I walked into a bar and a man at the door handed me a pin that said, "Kiss me, I might be Irish". I took a stool at the bar and the bartender asked if I wished the beer he served me to be green. I had to think about this for a moment, but decided it was best to decline the green beer in favor of the more trusted amber (to turn a phrase). The man next to me gave me a strange look. (I later learned his name was Tiny, although why he was called this could only be chalked up to sarcasm.)

"Where's your spirit lass?" Tiny said. (Actually he grunted it.)

"Spirit? I have lots of spirit," (with this I even smiled for added effect).

"Then why do ye' not celebrate Saint Patricks day with the traditional green beer?"

I began to wonder if I was going to have to help Tiny to keep him from falling off his barstool. "I didn't know about St. Patricks day. I'm... not from around here."

"Well that's a bloody shame lass. I suppose you don't know about leprachans, rainbows and pots of gold either."

I shook my head, "I'm afraid I don't know anything about that."

Tiny began telling me stories of leprechauns and how they hide their pots of gold at the end of rainbows. He went on and on about wanting to catch one and make it grant him wishes.

We had beers, many beers, and all of them green. Tiny eventually passed out right there with his head on the bar.

To be blunt, I was drunk. Drunk and curious. These two things in an Amberite do not mix, as I would learn. I was wondering if Tiny was pulling my leg or if these creatures really existed. It was more then I could take. I had to find out for myself.

Alright. I staggered down the street trying to remember all the details that I could from Tiny's slurred instruction: Little men in green clothes with red hair. I thought for a moment about midget versions of Brand and shuddered deeply -- nothing good could come from that image.

Still, that description of the leprechauns sounded like a good place to start. I was feeling festive so I began to shift the sky to green. Now what else could I remember? Oh yes, rainbows -- lots and lots of rainbows. After some work, the sky looked as if a five year old had been told to go crazy with a box of crayons. That is when I started to see the little men in the bushes, and I giggled.

I remember this because I rarely giggle.

'What else, come on Brea, think.' I grinned: little gold buckles on their green hats, and then I made it so. Little people who could grant wishes... I had to wonder if this was pushing things a bit, but what the hell, I had all night.

I stumbled down the path. By this I mean to indicate the truth of my tale and my retelling of it: What I did could not be considered walking. At this point, I wondered why I had not brought another beer with me: one for the road so to speak, but a bit of concentration, and there it was: one for the road, _on_ the road. I picked it up and continued my journey, singing something about "On to the leprechauns."

Then, up ahead I saw it: "Saint Patti's Whorehouse" -- I had arrived. I looked around for a classier joint, (and one where I could fit through the door -- very little people.) Up the street and to the left I saw a place where the door was big enough for me to fit through. I also noticed in really little writing it said, "the big, dumb, ugly bar" above the door, but shrugged it off and swaggered inside with my "Kiss me, I might be Irish" button still attached to my shirt.

Off in the back corner of the bar was a leprechaun all in black. I decided to address him, "Hey, aren't you s'posed to be in green or something?"

He looked me over, "and I suppose you don't realize that YOU stick out?"

Normally I would have verbally ripped his head off at this point, but I was drunk and feeling festive. So without asking, I pulled up a chair at his table.

He reguarded me with mild distaste, "if you touch me, I'll kill ye."

I laughed, right there, and in his face. Threats from a little man I could punt a good mile or two depending on the speed and direction of the wind. Still laughing I said, "you are a deLUSional little man." I shifted in my chair and adjusted my sword, which I think I must have picked up unconsciously in my shadowwalk. Neat trick, that... I hoped I could remember later how I'd managed it.

He almost fell out of his seat, "Where did'ye get that sword?"

I smiled, "Divinity? It was given to me by a ghost in Tir~na Nog'th." The little man seemed to be in awe of what I was saying and I chuckled again, "They don't get many leprechauns up that way. The steps are too far apart."

The little man scowled, then started to get up. In my clouded state, I didn't see what he was doing until he was halfway to the door.

"Hey! Wait up! Where are you going?" I followed him outside and around the corner of the building to a hitching post... expecting to see some little shetland pony with a cute little saddle. What I saw made my jaw drop.

"Where... did you get... THAT?"

He was beautiful. Sixteen hands high, he was an golden tan over his entire body, except in two places: his mane and tail were both a flowing silver. His hooves and eyes were black, and he regarded me with a surprising intelligence (Probably more intelligence than was in my eyes at the moment) and a heart-rending sadness. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he was made of precious metals.

It was the most amazing horse I had ever seen.

"Where I got him is none of your concern, you lumbering oaf. Take your sword and your high-handedness and get you gone from this place. We are Family here, and we don't ken to strangers."

The little man in black clambered up the stirrup/rope ladder arrangement on the horse's far side and *thumped* into the saddle. That amazing creature continued to look at me with those wonderful, sad eyes as his rider backed it up from the post and pulled out an embossed switch. I realized with horror what he intended to do with it, and acted without thinking. I stepped forward fast as I could (which is pretty damn fast, even drunk), reaching out and ripping his foot from the stirrup on my side... pulling him from the saddle violently and holding him by the ankle upside down (taking away the switch at the same time.) His eyes were wide in rage and some fear.

"WHAT THE BLAZES DO YE THINK YUIR DOIN'!?!"

His accent got thicker when he was mad, it seemed.

"I'm... I'm..." My mind flashed back to Tiny and his stories, and a revelation came on me like tomorrow morning's hangover.

"I'm claiming my right, little man... I caught you and hold you now by your ankle: I want your treasure."

For a moment, his face flushed red, then a slyness I don't like to think about came over his face. "My treasure you say? Aye, I can get ye that for..." <> "Ye have caught me high and dry, and fair's fair. My treasure lies over those hills yonder" He pointed, somewhat askew for being reversed in the world, so to speak. "I'll take ye there as soon as ye..."

"No." I said.

"-put me down an... ahhh, I say, What?"

"No, I'll take your treasure now. You've got all the gold I need right here, little man." I looked at the horse, as I dropped him on his head, where I assumed the fall would do the least damage.

"ACCCHH!! WHAT!!???!? NO, BLAZES NO!! YE SHANT HAVE THAT CREATURE, FOR HE'S MINE!!"

"Not any more." I muttered as I vaulted up the wrong side and pulled myself straight in the saddle. "Not any more."

The man fumed on the ground and I rode away... then rode faster as things came back to me:

"Where I got him is none of your concern, you lumbering oaf..."

Faster... I saw angry bearded faces regarding me from houses.

"Take your sword and your high-handedness and get you gone from this place."

Faster... I saw angry faces and pitchforks...

"We are Family here..."

Faster... edge of town and I'll not be going back to that neighborhood for a good long time, I think.

"We don't ken to strangers..."

Open fields... and I started subtracting the Rainbows, and heading for home.

And I was damn happy to be leaving.