A place like Madripoor only came alive at night. On one side, the skyscrapers in High Town were outlined by a bevy of dancing neon lights. Below that, on the other, Low Town was marked by flat one or two-story buildings as far as the eye could see. Rain-slick streets and railways were crisscrossed by too many power lines, businesses located by shining candy-colored signs. Steam rose from rooftops, the lights below casting each puff in a vast array of colors, evaporating into the darkness and drizzle overhead.

This was a place of street gangs and black markets. In the midnight markets, it was easy to find or trade whatever one desired. All it took to get in was a lot of money and the right contacts. Crates and lockboxes came in and left under the watchful eyes of armed guards. But these weren't the only goods being bought and sold. Information was a popular commodity too.

The best sort of information was found inside The Brass Monkey Saloon, one of the two most infamous bars in Madripoor.