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The Fine Art of River Diplomacy

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Having had some more or less successful encounters with both Mother and Father Thames, you would think I was prepared for anything when it came to big rivers. However, that was before Nightingale sent me off to Europe, hunting after some magical thingiemabob. (That was the scientific name I decided to give it until I had time to examine it properly. Hopefully without blowing anything up.)

The thingiemabob happened to be in Basel on the Swiss-German border, set on the river Rhine, and according to Nightingale it would've been bad form to simply take it without paying my respects.


Unfortunately it turned out that, like the Thames, the Rhine also has a split personality. Which was how I once again found myself caught in the middle between two very powerful gods that couldn't stop sniping at each other. It doesn't get any easier with practice, let me tell you.

Upper Rhine (Gnarley as I called him, albeit not out loud) was a grouchy old man, cracked-faced like the Alps, while Lower Rhine (Snazzy in my head) looked like a business woman in a powersuit.

Someone tell Nightingale that I deserve a bonus for managing to finagle the thingiemabob from them!