Who is Chacal?

[Gen]

"Too long a stick is good for you," an old monk was saying, frowning.

"That way was always the second best," his friend replied.

"The memory we used to share welcomes spring," the monk went on. "Another day sees the sun."

"Two plantation owners were murdered by mutants. Crazy stuff, man,".

The monk took a whiff off his joint, nodded and said quite solemnly, "That memory we used to share is omni-present, much like candy."

Llarnas had to agree, because you could not disagree with a man of the cloth without risking your head, or being probed in all the wrong ways in the name of their blue gods.

An hour earlier, he was quite eager to find this Chacal, but his optimism had run out along with the bottle he was holding. He figured he'd take refuge in a bar to reinforce his good spirit, and maybe ask if anybody knows this Chacal.

Nobody did. As time went on, he decided it was more likely that this Chacal was in fact a breed of dog disguised cleverly as a woman.

The monk was spitting at his face some words, but any sense of reason or logic had now completely abandoned Llarnas. Language was becoming harder to understand with each passing moment and all he could do was to concentrate on finishing his drink.

The words were coming out his mouth slurred, "I need... another drink,". And he noticed a new one on the table as soon as he asked.

"Sounds troublesome," the monk said, "you'll be needing plenty of help with your search... I advise we take a sabre, fully loaded. And you'll need a lot of wine, whiskey, vodka, cardamine and a platinum credit chip." he sighed after a pause, "this blows my weekend,".

"Why?"

"Because, naturally, I'm gonna have to come with you. We go to Liberty, and make a stop at Curacao along the way,".