"You have no idea," Conn replied, shaking his head as he watched Beryl approach the bar. "The Imps did something funny to her," Conn told the elder Quitaan. "She's not the Beryl you or I remember. At least not right now."
"The Imps put her on some weird cocktail of drugs, stuff that made even the doc here cringe," Max piped up as she rose from her seat, nearly-empty whiskey bottle in hand. "I've only known her for a short time, but I definitely think I prefer pre-Carida Beryl to post."
"She's only acting 'semi' normal now that I've medicated her out to the gills," Conn continued. "When we picked her up, she was surly, anti-social and rather testy."
"You mean just like she was now?" Teser surmised, rubbing his still bruised chin.
"Yeah," Conn confirmed. "C'mon, let's get over there before she 'self-medicates' a little too much for her own good."
"Sounds like a plan," Teser agreed as they strode over to the bar where Nic and Beryl sat.