Imagine a place where the rules are very clear. It's not a nice place, but the laws are listed on one sheet poster before you enter, and amount to "Don't be an asshole and make good on your promises, or we'll hurt you." Imagine a bar filled with smoke, a sleepy room filled with whatever drug is your pleasure, and a market where you can buy anything, assuming you can trade for it. Everything has a price, after all.

The first story is actually about someone that forgot that little rule. Everything has a price, and that price must be paid. But is it really her fault? Or has something more sinister lured her to its den? Ginger Root will probably never find out, but you might. It's important to know where traditions come from after all, even if time itself is merely a suggestion.