RP:Drargon's Drinking Challenge
Part of the Festival of Aramoth.
Frostmaw Tavern
Meri seemed far more comfortable with sharing this information now that there weren't a gaggle of girls to overhear it. "Nothin'." This is said straight faced, no grin, not even batting a lash. "Plain and simple. Takes a bit more than 'eyein' my like a fresh steak' and buyin' me a few drinks." Most of the time. A bit more hesitantly she confesses, "Sorta...been spendin' my time with that Rezza feller? But it ain't nothin' like serious."
Raphaline knew that name, and as more people began to poor into the tavern, her next few words were whispered into the other woman's ear. Afterwards, she was happy to have more ale set down on the table for them both. "Just, you know, saying."
Kasyr might not have any actual intentions of competing in the drinking contest that was slated for the evening, given that it was likely going to be tantamount to cheating, but that didn't necessarily mean he wasn't going to attend. Free booze went swimmingly with half assed attempts at doing paperwork.
Meri gets rather quiet at this revelation. For a brief time. Meri just sort of nods her head and doesn't press the matter further. The topic is closed with an easy going, "Well that's good to know." What else was there to say? Nothing. So Meri does what Meri does best...she takes another looooooong drink from that warming ale.
Raphaline cants her head to the side, "Please, do not tell me that ruined your mood." She reaches across the table, sliding another tankard of ale. "Forget him. They are all ridiculous. Honey, half truths, aye?" She lofts her mug of ale in to the air, with a grin and a wink.
Satoshi arrives arm in arm with Svilfon. There might have been singing up until she opened the door, but shhh, that's just your imagination! Nonetheless, with the magus' arrival, Drargon straightens up from where he's been stacking barrels on a nearby banquet table. The makeshift table groans beneath the weight of its cargo, causing the Frost Giant barkeep to slide another crate beneath it for support before he dusts off his hands and levels his gaze on the Lady of Frostmaw. "I hope yer folks are ready to drink," he rumbles, smirking behind his beard. Satoshi offers Drargon a salute and a quick, "I hope you're ready to serve, then, because we're dying to try this new brew!" With this, Satoshi untangles herself from Svilfon, and claims herself a seat at one of the many tables lined up in front of Drargon, their surfaces covered in empty mugs. She nods to the giant, giving him the signal that leads to him lifting his hands and proclaiming, "C'mon then, ya sober lugs! Pull up a chair an' get ready to try a brew so strong it'll knock the fur off a lycan. So stout it'd transform a wee pixie into the meanest dwarf, beard an' all! This ale will down even the mightiest of dragons after a single flagon! It'd make Aramoth weep, the punch it packs! Not even the undead are immune, I tell ya!" Proudly the Frost Giant puts his hands on his hips, awaiting everyone to take their seats.
Chakor quickly enters the bar to escape the cold outside. His eyes scan the room, past the many patrons as well as the large bartender, to land on an uninhabitted table in the corner. He walks to the table and sits down for a moment to rest. The lion at his side gently nudges Chakor's leg with his nose. The elf reaches down and strokes the beast's mane. Reaching into his pouch he produces a large chunk of meat. He tosses the meat to the lion who starts to tear into it in a pleased manner. Seeing that his companion is happy, he walks over to the bar. "A pint of your strongest ale" he says to the large frost giant.
Satoshi snickers, hearing Chakor. Dangerous choice of words, when they're about to engage in a drinking contest with Drargon's newest, and most powerful, brew yet.
Svilfon tips his hat to the barkeep as he makes his way in with Satoshi, before quickly wandering over to where Aodhan warms the tavern. He kneels down, far enough away that his beard doesn't catch fire, and extends his hands. He'd just been in a wicked-fun snowball fight, and needed to warm up... still, his gaze shifts to where the drinking will begin. He has no intentions of really entering... probably... but! He's still going to try some of this new brew... anything that'd turn a tree-hugging pixie in a bearded dwarf sounds alright by him!
Misaki quietly slips into the tavern. She had heard of a drinking contest approaching in this particular establishment, and while she wasn't too keen on drinking herself, she was interested to see what would happen with everyone else. Her dark crossbow was tied to her side as usual. The moment she was inside the warmth of the tavern, she untied her crossbow and held it for a moment. The dark metal melted, dripping onto the floor into whirls of dark shadows, growing more and more as the crossbow continued to take another form. Out of the shadows jumped an attractive male with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, pale skin, sharp nose, thin lips, and a tailcoat. "You called, Mistress?" he asked, going down on one knee with his hand on his heart. "Drinking contest," she said flatly, "you're free to participate, if you wish. Do try not to make a fool of yourself this time." Satoru bowed his head. "...I will do my best," the blindfolded crossbow said.
Meri snickers at Raphaline and shakes her head, smirking towarad her friend. "Naw. Ain't ruined my mood." Whether it had or had not, who knows? The subject is dropped as the crowd picks up. Oh what great timing. Let's drink! A mischievous look is sent toward Raphaline and then Meri is up. Of course, before she makes her way to the bar she has to empty the rest of that warming ale. Can't let good booze go to waste. It would really just work out better for the other contestants anyway. Drink emptied, she grabs Raphaline's wrist gently and drags her off to the festivities.
Svilfon spots Kasyr and flashes a crooked grin. "Hear that..? Not even undead are immune... you should put it to the test." Svilfon has never met anyone who can eat.. or drink.. quite like Kasyr can. The wizard also has very precise opinions about paperwork... there's always time to do it later.
Meri snickers at Raphaline and shakes her head, smirking towarad her friend. "Naw. Ain't ruined my mood." Whether it had or had not, who knows? The subject is dropped as the crowd picks up. Oh what great timing. Let's drink! A mischievous look is sent toward Raphaline and then Meri is up. Of course, before she makes her way to the bar she has to empty the rest of that warming ale. Can't let good booze go to waste. It would really just work out better for the other contestants anyway. Drink emptied, she grabs Raphaline's wrist gently and drags her off to the festivities.
Raphaline is dragged off to one of the tables where the 'special brew' would be served. And she was just as happy to leave the subject alone, so she settles up to Meri, placing a hand on her back as she eyes all the places to sit. The bard, with her wild red hair from being outside earlier, spots two seats and makes a move for them. "Two for us, we are in!"
Misaki nodded once to Satoru, who took a seat at the table as well. Misaki, on the other hand, wasn't interested in drinking. So she chose a table nearby so she could watch, looking over the menu. After that snowball fight, Misaki was ready to eat.
Kasyr takes note of Svilfon's presence in the bar, and offers a lazy sort of wave, "Beard not majestic enough for your liking, et so you've come to compete? Or are you just here to overfeed another some more lizards, monsieur?" Kasyr's presence is easily enough explained, given there's a small pile of papers off to one side, some of which bear Vailkrins seal on them.
Satoshi thumps her empty tankard on the table. "Let's have it, Drargon, no more grandstanding~!" The barkeep relents with a heavy bow. "Right then. If yer all ready, then prepare yourself for an ale that bites so hard it sent our matron frost dragon fleeing. I present to ya, Cryothain's Tears!" With a flourish of skirts, Drargon's barmaids sweep in to fill three mugs in front of each participant. The contents are deceptively clear, with a thick head of foam on top that seems almost to glisten in the firelight. Satoshi squints at hers and gives it a curious sniff. "It looks like water." "But it don't drink like water," Drargon retorts, arms crossing over his chest as he lets them begin their drinking. The rules are, of course, simple: drink until you can't anymore. When you empty a glass, a barmaid will refill it. The last one still conscious wins a lifetime supply of Cryothain's Tears. (But not the recipe, that's Drargon's secret)
Kasyr whimsically takes one of the torn envelopes that had once contained the papers near him, if only to quickly scribble 'Vailkrin Information Services' on it. It's about that point he neatly settles it on the table, so it's balanced just so. "I won't be one to complain if it does work. Unless it also provides a legendary hangover, ou quoi ce soit."
Chakor downs his drink with ease, 'Strong stuff' he thought. As he orders a second ale, he notices the tavern start to fill up with patrons. The air in the room seems to be one of excitement, clearly something was about to go on but he wasn't sire what. He notices a pair of vampires conversing and walks over to them. "Pardon me, but is there something special going on tonight?" he asks the one in the pointy hat As he asks he hears a loud noise from the bar.
Svilfon grins at Kasyr, "Not to compete.. those days are passed, now. But you should... paperwork can wait, or be pushed on to Redhale. Unless you're afraid you'll lose to the queen?" His gaze shifts to Satoshi then, before he snatches one of the mugs from a passing barmaid. He doesn't yet drink it... he sniffs once... eyes the fireplace... sniffs again... before taking a few steps back. It was strong... he didn't want his breath to set him on fire.
Misaki smiles a little as the festivities start. "I'll just take one tankard," she said, waving, "I'm not interested in getting drunk, unlike that blind idiot over thre." Satoru was already chugging his glass, foam coating his upper lip and not spilling a drop. He slammed his tankard back on the table, licking his lips. "That's how we met, Misstress, if you remember," Satoru turned his face to the Avian, who only laughed.
Svilfon said to Chakor, "It's a drinking contest! And judging by how easily you downed that one... you should enter. *grins* Hard to say no to free drinks!"
Meri sends on final wink toward Raphaline. It's Satoshi that gains Meri's attention now. A cheeky smirk pulls at her red lips as she points out, "Moonshine done looks like water. Or it can." Sure didn't smell like it though. Meri waits before starting in on her drinking, just to make sure there were no last minute drinkers wanting to hang with the gals.
Kasyr offers Svilfon a smirk, "Lose to you? But you said you're not competing." And it's on that note that the Revenant drums up one of those drinks, and an order of some raw steak, too. It's not like they said he -couldn't- eat and drink. So, it's only when he gets a slab of meat on a plate- that he starts to dig in, alternating between chunks of meat and swigs of Tears ( Cryothain's, not of those of innocents). "...Et that's got a bit of kick."
Satoshi pauses in her inspection of the strangely pale ale to look at Meri, grinning at the comment. "True enough! And that stuff kicks like a warhorse~." Boldened by this, the magus scoops up her tankard and begins drinking from it. Her pace isn't quite a chug, but it's far from a dainty sipping either. It's a steady pace, of one that's clearly been in this tavern too often.
Raphaline grabs a hold of one of those mugs and plops herself down right next to Meri, sniffing at the mug. Definitely different. She takes a small sip, rolls the flavor around in her mouth before pressing the edge of the mug to her lips and downing half of the liquor. "Well hella that burns its way down your throat."
Svilfon raises his tankard before downing it, before his voice fills the room briefly in a toast. "Here's to the lady of snow, the kingdom of Frostmaw, the fighters who're here and those who're no more. Here's to the battles we've won, and the battles we've lost, to the snow falling down covering us all in frost. Here's to wizards and warriors, pixies and giants, ice magus queens and tree huggin' dryads. Here's to drinking with you all, especially for free - but most of all, here's to me!" The wizard grins before downing his mug in a rather messy fashion.
Satoshi coughs halfway through her drinking, eyes squinted shut as she shakes her head. "Oi~. It does bite, doesn't it?"
Chakor 's ear's perk up when he hears the mention of a new brew. He take a seat at one of the many tables lined up before the massive bartender. He picks up the first glass and gives it a sip. He can feel the warmth spreading through his body. "Say, this is damn good." he proclaims as he downs he rest of the glass.
Meri picks up her own drink at the same time that Satoshi does. Sure the rules might have stated 'the last one conscious' and she could easily stew on a single beer the entire night...but what fun would that be? Satoshi set the pace and Meri would do her damnedest to match it. Try. It burns. This delicious sort of burn that only an alcoholic can really appreciate. Raphaline is given this look. A look that tauntingly says 'I'm gonna kick yer arrrrrrse.' It's all in good fun of course.
Misaki shakes her head. "...you are a strange one, Wizard," she stated, taking a tnakard the barmaid offered. She sniffed it once and took a sip... and she gagged, slamming the tankard down and spilling it everywhere. "Ow," she said touching her throat gingerly, "that is something I will never get used to."
Satoshi calls out to Svilfon as he's drinking, "What battles we've lost? You're mad, wizard!" A few frost giants shout their agreement at this, and a handful more thunk their mugs on tables.
Misaki ||Satoru was already downing his third drink.. The shadow crossbow was already listening around the tavern, pickign up voice and which direction they same from. A target... he was looking for a lady to hit on. Misaki knew this all too well- that was how the two of them met.
Svilfon offers Satoshi a frothy smile, ale dribbling down his beard in a rather manly fashion while he scoops up another mug from a passing barmaid. "I just got turned into a snowman! I think that counts as a battle lost." He raises the glass to the giants. "And I didn't see any of you there!" He flashes another grin at them, before drinking, albeit slowly, his next mug.
Svilfon turns to Misaki and grins, "Strange, yes. The only way..." He burps then clears his throat, "Ahh, excuse me..." does he have to excuse himself in a drinking contest for burping? I think not! Too late now, though. "Ahh, strange, yes. The best way to be, lady." He tips his hat with a grin before taking another sip.
Raphaline nudges Meri playfully as she reaches for her own mug and topples the rest of it down her throat. With a gasp and a call for another she turns to tease her friend, "You know, you are gonna have to deal with my drunken singing, right? Bawdy songs and lewd melodies." She grins, reaches for the next mug and begins to work her way through it.
Misaki takes another ginger sip of her drink. Ow. It stung, but she was expecting it this time. No gagging. No spilling. Just Misaki sipping her drink like a dainty lady.
Kasyr raises up his glass in response to Svilfon's toast, if only to begin downing the rest of his glass. Suffice to say, it's a bit more harsh when not being alternated with bites of steak- though the Kensai bares with it, up until the only thing left of that glass, is a bit of froth stuck to his upper lip. It's with an approving nod that the revenant plants the mug down onto the bar, a quiet cough being the only indication that the revenant finds it just as biting as his wife does. Partly, it's an alcoholic bite, but partly, he could almost swear it was that same sort of frosty bite that chewing on mint gave off. Contemplations don't last long, though- The Kensai's got another drink to work his way through yet.
Satoshi, a bit behind most of the others, finishes her first tankard and sets it down in almost delicate manner. As is to be expected of an undead, she shows no signs of feeling the ale's work after a single mug, although her whiskers are quivering like bowstrings and she can't quite seem to stop with the occasional head shake. With a bit more respectful caution this time, Satoshi takes up the second tankard. Drargon might not have been lying, that this stuff could actually effect undead.
Chakor smiles as he hears the jovial conversation around him. He downs a second and a third tankard of the mysterious brew with ease. Looking up at the bartender he jokes "I don't see what the big deal is. I hardly feel tipsy." The bartender flashes him a mischievious grin as the barmaids refill the elf's mugs. "Just wait little man." retorts the giant in a very knowing manner.
Meri finishes drink number one and sets her empty glass on the table, waiting for her refill. Meri snorts at Raphaline as she waits for her refill. "Like I wouldn't gotta go dealin' with that anyway." Inwardly, Meri is giving herself a little bit of a pep talk. Those baby blues are fixed on drink number two. Do it, Meri. Just suck it up and do it. Maybe drinking before this contest was not such a good idea. Tomorrow was certainly going to suck for the human woman. Oh well. And she sets in on drinking tankard number two.
Svilfon can already feel flowing through his undead veins the effects of the drink. He once prided himself on how much he could knock back without too much effect (explosions when he teleported excluded, of course), but this stuff would put hair on a drow's chest... even an undead drow... where was Tiphareth? Contemplating a lichdrow getting drunk, while he sips at his second drink, he blinks, finding he's sat down at a table. "I salute you, Drargon!" He raises his glass with one hand while tipping his hat with the other. "Fine, fine drink you have here." He grins, before taking another sip.
Satoshi sets down her mug a moment to begin pawing at her cheeks, seemingly in a poor imitation of a hamster grooming. "Bwaaaah. It tingles~." It isn't quite the alcohol's kick that Satoshi means, but rather the effects of some of the other ingredients that produce the pins-and-needle sensation in the Eidolon. Part of it is the mint bite that Kasyr had detected, yet there's something more, almost electric, that has Satoshi unable to keep still.
Misaki sighs, putting her tankard down and glanced over at Satoru, who was already downing his fourth tankard. "You're gonna drink yourself to death one of these days," she stated. Satoru slammed his tankard down and belcched loud enough to make a dragon look at him alarm. "'twould be a foiiiine deaff indeed," he slurred, "drinkin' 'til you forget your worries and burdens." "You're not gonna be able to revert to my weapon for a while," Misaki took another sip, "'tis a shame, because I have a fight to fight against a certain human."
Svilfon salutes Satoru's fine belch. He was impressed.
Satoshi squeaks, startled by Satoru's belch. Bravo, sir!
Raphaline hoists her second mug up to her companion, "Well then, cheers to all the fun we get to deal with later and tomorrow. Hangovers and all." And tips her head back, downing the clear liquor, burn, sting and effects and all. She could feel the warmth of it spreading in her veins, and the stirring of songs in her throat, but for now she would drink. Maybe later, when many of them were drunk they could share in a bawdy song of drink and wenches and such.
Meri keeps on keeping on. Her second glass is empty and refilled so that she could move on to number three. Meri wasn't even necissarily in to to win it anymore. She was just determined to get haggard. When Satoshi starts pawing at her cheek, she is given a curious look. Raphaline earns a smirk. The belch is given a chuckle. But tankard number three garners most of Meri's attention.
Misaki ||Satoru stood up, still holding his empty tankard, and drunk-walk-wobbled over to where Raphaline was sitting. The drunk blind man leaned over her and said, "Hewwo, purrrdy laadyyyy. H'vin' funnnn?" It was all Misaki could do to keep herself from facepalming. Here we go.
Chakor raises the fourth mug to his mouth to drink when he notices that his arm is considerably hairier than normal. He sets the drink down on the table and looks down at his arms. They are both covered in a thick black fur. Normally he can control his lycan transformations but this drinks seems to be having a very odd effect. He sits still for a moment to discern whether or not he can feel the beast rising inside of him. Noticing no change in his demeanor he shugs it off and resumes drinking. The clear liquid feels odd in his mouth this time. A slight tingling sensation makes his tongue feel like several pixies are tapdancing on it.
Kasyr can't help but grin at Satoshi's antics, peering over at her from above the rim of his mug. By this point the steak he'd ordered was reduced to a few bits of bone left on his plate, with his second drink now on it's way to being finished. There was something altogether nostalgic about the way the drink burned on it's way down, and something altogether new in it's bite. Something that has him fondly plucking up his third mug in short order.
Svilfon looks over at Chakor and can't help but mutter, "By the balls of Sven himself, Drargon was right!" It truly would make you hairy. Svil gives the drink a slightly askewed look, before shrugging and emptying his second mug. He waves over for a new one, but realizes he's waving at a giant rather than a barmaid. With a grin at the giant, he waves instead at one of the tavern servers and awaits his next mug.
Raphaline is almost through her second mug when she sees Satoshi pawing at Meri. She then tries not to choke on the last bit of the drink, chuckling at her friend. Then, there was a drunk fellow, blind, sitting next to her. She scrunches her face up, brows furrowed. "Fun ain't the half of it. Drink brings out the most amusing in people, like in you." She winks, and turns, mug hoisted. "Refill!" Quickly it is filled and she begins to work through it, oddly the burn felt a bit more numb now.
Satoshi defeats her second glass despite its attempts. There's a proud sort of air about the kit when the glass is set down, and readily she accepts not only a third, but a fourth. With two tankards in hard, Satoshi stands and begins weaving her way with excessive care toward Kasyr. Once at his table, Satoshi lifts her glasses in salute to her husband and then nestles in beside him. "Whatcha think of this stuff~?" she asks with something reminiscent of a purr.
Misaki glances over at Raphaline. "Please don't encourage him," she said. Satoru waved his empty glass, "Awww l'ghten' up, Mistress. I'm just h'vin' a l'ttle fun." He then stumbled away from Raphaline to run right into Drargon's leg. "'scuse me, miss, I didn't see you there," the blind one said. Misaki planted her face on the table. Hard. To keep herself from laughing.
Blyss sits at one of the seats, late to the contest but eager to catch up. He puts up his finger asking the keep for a mug of the new brew. He takes the first glass, and smells it first. . . making a small noice, he braces himself for the burn. He glugs the glass, drinking as fast as he can. Not wanting to give the liquid time to burn his throat. He made quick work of the mug, but his eyes where glossy by the time the mug hit the table. With a hickup He asks for another. Looking to the person next to him, Blyss with a sway states "I haven't drank. . . I mean really drank in years." This time he takes his time to sip the Brew, forgeting the contest already. "Keep, This suffs good, it hurts, but yeah." gives a small beltch with a grin.
Drargon doesn't miss a beat--you don't stay the barkeep of Frostmaw's tavern by being uncertain--when Satoru bumps into him. A giant hand is extended and clapped over the blind man's shoulders to steady him before expertly being turned to toddle off in another direction. But not before Drargon's other hand slips another full tankard into Satoru's grip. "There ya go, laddy."
Meri stares at Raphaline as she humors the man who was hitting on her. And the bard wonders why she was having troubles with people wanting ties. Meri is just about to run Satoru off for Raphaline but he seems to distract himself with running into Drargon. Problem solved, for now. Which meant Meri could focus on her single purpose in life right now: drinking. Three right? That one is emptied and on to four.
Svilfon is just taking his third mug, and preparing to drink it - it burned not in a way the fiery wizard was used to! - before he hears Satoru call Drargon a miss. Laughter erupts from the vampire, so much so he falls off his chair, though rather skillfully doesn't spill his drink. "Drargon, prettiest miss I've ever seen." He pulls himself up off the ground, flips up his chair with a foot and sinks back into it. "I'll drink to that!" He promptly does, while snickering at the former warrior turned barkeep.
Krice stood at the doorway dressed in his typical black clothing--hardly warm enough for Frostmaw, but he didn't seem to mind--with his katana strapped to his back and a ghroundium glove fastened to his belt against each hip. Quietly, the warrior sent his crimson gaze across the faces of the crowd, observing from afar the situation. Svilfon's uproarous laughter drew Krice's gaze in the wizard's direction, but he soon followed said wizard's attention to Satoru, and then to Drargon.
Kasyr offers Satoshi a -very- fond grin, "I can't help but be grateful that tu decided to have a drinking contest- if it brings out these kinds of innovations." It's with these words that the Revenant raises his mug towards Drargon, and begins to down it. At least until Blyss arrive, something that starts with the Kensai making an awkward cough, and promptly cedes into his measured drinking turning into an outright chug. Down goes number 3, if only for the revenant to order a fourth. "...If you'd excuse me, though, mon amour. I sort of have some business I need to attend to. Please don't use my papers as kindling, in my absence. Or get rid of my office sign." ..He probably means the envelope with 'Vailkrin Information services' written on it.
Misaki can't help but giggle. Stupid Satoru. Speaking of, the direction he was toddled off to was actually in the direction of Svilfon. He chugged half his glass down while he stumbled around, and bumped into the wizard. "OH, hello, m'lady," the drunk, blind crossbow stated, "f'rg've a blind fool for his f'lishnessss." He hiccupped, belched, then said, "Thu, effen wiff my eyes removed by zhe mistress, I c'n 'ssume yu are as fair as any l'dy present, her m'jesty exccluded of course." He raised his tankard in a salute in which he -guessed- was the direction of the queen. But the blind fool ended up raising his tankard towards Kasyr. Stupid drunk.
Kasyr said to Blyss, "Oi, Monsieur. Got a moment?"
Drargon looks toward Svilfon in a way that suggests the giant is tempted to seal the wizard in one of the barrels of ale, but alas, such temptations do not continue, for at that moment one of the drinking Frost Giants lets out a belch and promptly falls over. The drunken fellow's tablemates greet this with thunderous laughter, one even pouring the remnants of their mug on the poor giant's head. Although Drargon allows antics in his tavern, he knows when and where to intervene, and this is one such time. With the aid of his assistant, the barkeep hefts the unconscious giant up and lugs him outside to sit in the snow: Frostmaw's method of sobering up.
Svilfon sidesteps the problems of being called a lady, which frightens him after the other day right down to the soles of his boots, by snickering at the toast to Kasyr as the queen, "You got that right, laddy." That's what Drargon called him, Svil would too.. in a very manly voice, I might add. Go tell the queen how pretty she looks. With that, Svil nudges the blindfolded man in Kasyr's direction, before snickering to himself. Though, he does spare a hat-tip to Krice. He'd not seen the warrior in a while, but that doesn't stop him grinning briefly at the man.
Raphaline is tottering a bit on her seat as mug number four is being eliminated quite quickly. Half way through she spots a figure she had not expected to be here, well not during all the drinking. She nudges Meri, gives her a look and then departs from her seat to wander, with a bit of difficulty to her acquaintance Krice. "Darling, never expected you to be coming to this kind of affair."
Meri takes a gander at the room. Satoshi had wandered off to her husband and Raphaline off to Krice. One final and very long drink is taken from the tankard before the blonde leaves the half-emptied tankard on the table and literally stumbles out the door.
Svilfon flashes Drargon a grin, too, gap-toothed and as crooked as a troll's honour. He knew the look the barkeep briefly gave him all too well... and responds with a tip of his hat and another sip of the drink, before nodding his appreciation of it. It wasn't forced that nod, to save his hide a rather inglorious fate, rather it was nothing but honest enjoyment of a drink well made.
Satoshi looks crestfallen that Kasyr left only moments after she arrived. Enough so that she seeks solace in her third drink--and promptly spits out what she'd just sipped, upon hearing Satoru's compliments to Svilfon. A few of Kasyr's papers might have gotten wet from that, oops. Not that Satoshi's noticed, as she looks in Svilfon's direction, lifts her glass, and calls out in her best Farmer McDougal impression, "Oi! Dress boy! You look like a girl an' you fight like one too!" Sweet, sweet (horrible) memories.
Blyss nods to Kasyr his eyes sobering up a hint. Putting his Mug down "Sure, what do you need?"
Misaki howls with laughter, nearly falling out of her chair. This was probably the first time she was actually amused by Satoru's drunken antics. Satoru hobbled off in the direction he was pushed by Svilfon. He didn't seem to care that Svil had a deep voice. He just kept walking in the direction of Kasyr, finishing up his latest tankard. Perhaps someone should stop him before he started hitting on one of the strongest in the room?
Krice stepped aside to allow Drargon, and his assistant, to freely pass through the tavern doors as they carried out a drunk giant. He spotted Satoshi in that moment, took note of her crowd, and stored away those details somewhere at the back of his mind. What a chaotic place this was. Svilfon's hat-tip drew Krice's attention and he glanced that way, but Raphaline's voice demanded his focus shortly after and she became the point of his interest. For all of three seconds. " I'm not," was all he said, before turning to depart the establishment. He had seen enough in those few moments to discern that this 'affair' was definitely not for him.
Svilfon has that grin frozen off his face in but a moment as he hears Satoshi's far too musical impression of that dreaded Farmer McDougal. He spins in his chair to her, stares for a moment, before replying, "Yeah, well, you look like a boy but fight like a girl!" He grins, even as he raises his glass in fine salute to fond... if frightning... memories.
Raphaline shakes her head, making a brushing off manner. "No fun." She says, as she sets aside her tankard and makes for the blind fool, before he gets himself hurt. "Love, come on, I would not go there." She steps, with some trouble in front of Satoru, bracing a hand against his shoulder.
Kasyr takes a sip from the mug in his right hand, while his left moves up to adjust the goggles that rest on the kensai's head. "Forgive moi if I've got the wrong person. I mean, I try to keep informed on officials, et all- but well, few drinks here." The revenant offers a odd sort of grin, a lax shrug, and yet another drink from his mug, "But would you be Larket's Sheriff, Monsieur? ..A monsier Blyss, ou quoi-ce-soit?"
Chakor grabs his fifth mug from the table and attempts to stand up. As he rises he can feel the drink's effect on the rest of his body. His legs feel boneless, his toes are full of pins and needles, head feeling lighter than air. Slowly he walks over to the table of the Lady of Frostmaw. "Thiiish hash beeean, a wonderfurl cont-est. You're truvly a lady urf the peopleses." he slurrs. As he trys to offer Satoshi a respectful bow, the drink hits his head quite hard causing him to fall face first to the ground. For a moment he is motionless before he raises his glass proclaiming "Saved the drink, we're all guude here."
Satoshi's ears flatten against her head and her eyes go wide. "You take that back!" Quick as lightning, the magus is on the table, crouched, and then springing at Svilfon with claws not extended--there is no malice in her tone or body--as she aims to tackle him off his seat. A few Frost Giants cheer at this. It isn't a night at the tavern without a fight!
Satoshi shouted, "I'll show you fighting like a girl, dress boy!"
Misaki covers her eyes, rolling on the ground laughing. Satoru stopped when a hand was placed on his shoulder. Suddenly he stopped slurring. "Oh dear mistress, please do not hate me because I am beautiful," he said. Obviously, he was too drunk to really care who was holding onto his shoulder. Another drink was pushed into his hand, and he downed that in two gulps.
Satoshi somehow managed to total miss Chakor when she pounced toward the wizard, so apparently she isn't drunk. Yet.
Svilfon watches Satoshi leap over the prone Chakor with a dull look in his eyes. Did she grow wings? Is she... oh gods... ahhh... The wizard is struck with fluff filled fury by the queen, even as he cries out, "Never!" He falls off his chair, before rolling across the ground, scrambling for position against the snow queen, while words are heard coming from his mouth, "fluff... fat... ratio.. greasy... snowball!" It's clear there's nothing but enjoyment in his tones.
Blyss smiles as he nods. Then picks his mug back up and and takes a drink before speaking "Why yes, that would be me." He takes another drink and looking back to the Reverant. "And you are Kasyr? Govener of Vailkirn? Correct? I think I have seen you in passing." Blyss squints his eyes a little as he thinks of it. "How goes it?"
Raphaline had not expected someone to go soaring through the air, and suddenly there were people rolling around and the man she had stopped seemed out of trouble. So she took her hand back, reaches for another drink and downs all the contents, obviously not on everyone else's level quite yet. "You be careful love." She quips to Satoru, as she stumbles her way into a seat near the fight, that a way she can watch.
Satoshi doesn't seem prone to resorting to magic as she scuffles with Svilfon, instead focusing on trying to get her arm around his neck in a stranglehold. While knowing full well a stranglehold is useless on a vampire... not that it stops her from taking a swing at his gap-toothed face with her free hand. "It's not fat, it's FLUFF! At least I'm not all made of patches like you!" Cheap shots at hair and teeth for the wizard is far from a potent weapon. "And your hat is stupid too!" That's hitting below the belt, Satoshi.
Misaki stands up finally, going over to Satoru and grabbing his shoulders. "That's enough for you, playboy," she said, tugging on him. Satoru started flailing, yelling in some sort of language that no-one could understood. The tankard was released in his drunk fit, and sent soaring across the tavern to hit someone in the back of the head. Misaki didn't have time to check, and Satoru was obviously too blind and drunk to care.
Kasyr draw's the index finger of the hand that had been fumbling with his goggles down to his forehead, as though thinking, before he extends it towards Blyss in a pointing gesture, "I'm sort of hazy on the details, but just how long have tu been sheriff of Larket. Thinks have been a bit shaky there, et all." The revenant pauses, et takes another, far longer drink from the mug, "Oh, et yes. That's me, though it's more accurately king of the Vampires there. The undead are subject to Redhale's reign, et all."
Svilfon is caught in a headlock by the ferocious frosty queen, and is soon spinning around, trying to pull his head out, while alternatively flailing his arms to try and grab her tail. Fair was fair! He manages only just to slip his head part way from her shot, so he takes it in the forehead rather than the mouth - he's not got enough teeth to lose any more! - before he laughs, "Gaps and patches are..." Wait. Did she just insult his hat?! Oh, it's on! He pulls himself back, while lifting his hand up, to try and grab her own neck, while yelling, "Well... well... you -are- a greasy snowcone!"
Blyss shakes his had spilling a little drink from the corner of his lips. "Right, sorry where are my maners." Blyss gives a bow and comes up the looks up with his mug in his and to finish his glass. "Yes, I've had many different reports. Some of theives, others of Drow coming to the city." Thinks on the time frame. "It's only been a few weeks now. I'm not even sure I'm right for the job yet." shrugs and orders a third mug. Starting to feel very sideways.
Satoshi's grip on Svilfon slackens when he grabs hold of her throat, but only so that her hands are free to latch onto his extended wrist. As she pulls on his arm to lift herself, the magus kicks out with both booted feet toward the wizard's chest. She has no intentions of letting up with said kicks until Svilfon releases her... which will be followed up by her bodily tackling him, in an attempt to slam him into a nearby table. Drargon stands nearby, watching but not interfering. Svilfon and Satoshi fighting is nothing new. Dangerous, yes, but hardly new. And he knows anything broken will be mended.
Svilfon holds on for a rather admirable amount of time as Satoshi's feet kick into his chest, pulling further and further on his arm. He cannot help but grin at the Queen of Frost and Snow, even as she gets herself free and promptly leaps back at him. This time he's more ready, and he wraps his arms around her as she strikes him, causing him to fly backwards, slam through a table and spill alcohol everywhere. But he's beyond worrying about that. He uses her own momentum to roll backwards, until he's on top of her, before reaching out with his hand and picking up a half-full mug. "Drink this!" He promptly attempts to pour it over her face, if he can keep her pinned long enough, all the while keeping that grin on his face.
Kasyr finally lowers his glass, " It's no bother. Vailkrins political situation has been tumultous enough over the last few years that I don't really expect many people to follow it." What with rulers dying, dissapearing, or seceding the throne, and all that other stuff. "Not even in my domain, per say. But non- I just meant to find out if you might have had a hand in the recent ...political debacle that had occured. You see, a Larket official, someone from the Sheriff's office, en fait had waltzed into my town et sort of waged an attack upon the Corpse. I don't exactly appreciate that kind of Brazen gesture, et I'm not exactly one to sit by idly. So, if I had found out that tu were responsible, I was going to punch you in the face so hard that this tavern was going to get a new window." The revenant ends this statement with a predatorial smile, and a slight sip of his glass, "I can only hope I won't have that kind of issue from tu, oui?"
Blyss flinches as the tankard crashes into his head. Blyss takes a small step forward in shock before saking hes head. "Boy, I'm glad I'm drinking. . . That might'a hurt."
Kasyr 's sorta scrutinizing Blyss pretty hard, right now- and it's only -partially- to unnerve him. There's something else to the revenants gaze- like he's searching for something.
Misaki || "Now look what you did, you stupid drunk!" Misaki karate-chopped the stupid drunk to the ground, where the blind man lay limping. Misaki whirled around and bowed in Blyss' direction. "I apologize," she said formally. But then Satoru stood up again, whimpering and rubbing the place where he was hit - to get more of the drink poured on him by a passing barmaid. Boy, was the stupid fool happy.
Satoshi squirms beneath the wizard pinning her, eyes widen as he lifts the glass to pour (WASTE!) the ale on her beloved face. Ker-smash~. Satoru's thrown tankard--after ricocheting of Blyss' head--hits home, connecting with Svilfon's mug and shattering them both in a spray of glass and ale, as much in Svilfon's direction as Satoshi. The magus' eyes close tight against the splash, but for the most part she's shielded from harm by those strange orange shades she's wearing. The moment the droplets stop falling, Satoshi arches up with a considerable bit of flexiblity and seeks out to bury her fangs in Svilfon's leg, above his knee, and hopefully get him to stop pinning her down.
Chakor comes to after blacking out for a moment. He gingerly stand up and props himself against the wall. Seeing the scuffle happening before him he exclaims rather loudly "GO FOR THE BEARD!" This makes him chuckle slightly. In a drunken stupor he walks over to the avian, "Nice tailfeathers you got there lass." He flashes a drunken grin before drinking another tankard of the mystery brew.
Blyss looks back to Kasyr, "Yeah, that would have been Naz, he was a traiter and a lyer. I'm not sure what Hell the Gods put him in. I might have been deputy at the time, but knew nothing of the attack. I don't like attacking other vampire if I can help it." Being a vampire for some many years, and being a half breed in his life. Blyss feels a very strong pull towards the race of vampire. "Was there any damage I might need to help you with?" starts to drink his next mug the back of his head still with a tendge of pain.
Misaki glances over at Chakor with a raised eyebrow. "...um, thanks?" she said. She didn't have tailfeathers. All sh had were a pair of glowing white wings on her back. Satoru stumbled off with a new tankard of drink, returning to the table from where he was sitting before. His head was pounding, and not just from the brew. Misaki's head-chops hurt.
Raphaline decides that she will slip quietly outside, seeing as there were flying objects and such now.
Svilfon is covered from the sprays of alcohol that shoot out when flying mug meats soon-to-be-poured-on-Satoshi-mug. He's so shocked he doesn't even notice Satoshi burying her fangs in his leg, which promptly causes him to struggle back and leap up, "You.. bit me! I told you you fight like a girl!" He grins at that, standing there, ale covering him, before he reaches out, takes his beard in his hand, and promptly doubles it up over itself so he can suck some of the drink out of it. He wouldn't be wasteful! After a moment or two of this, and a grin sent at Chakor, he speaks again, "But you do not look like a boy... there... Truce? Or I will, gladly, accept your surrender, lady queen." He attempts half a bow at this, but it's rather ungraceful after his drinking and scuffle.
Blyss shakes his head, "I'll be fine. Thanks."
Foster bursts through the tavern door in a showy demonstration of flashy colors, sparkling in a wild fashion from his grand cape--boy, is it ever grand!--and framed just so betwixt glossy sable locks resides a face filled with an unforgettable vigor and charm; such wonderful hair enough to make a duchess swoon in envious desire! Or so the Bard thinks of himself and his entrance. Regardless, here he is, in all his Bardly grandeur, "People of the tavern, Foster has arrived!" He suddenly falls forward into a dramatic roll, and finishes by snagging a drink from a random patron's hand, to gulp it down in earnest. A droll smile touches his lips in a somehow apologetic look to the fellow, before Foster prances away, getting a good look at the company herein tonight. What angle would he play this day? Bards.
Svilfon tears his gaze away from Satoshi briefly to admire Foster's grand - even for a bard - entrance. He lifts a hand covered in ale and shards of glass so he can tip his hat at the man. That was one fine cape he was wearing.
Kasyr shrugs slightly, "I'd address the current owner of the bar in regards to that issue. He's a man named Christian, ou Riss. I imagine he might have kept some sort of document in regards to any damages incurred. My purpose here was more...political, in nature." Because threatening to put someone through a wall is just oh-so-diplomatic. "Anyways, thank you for clarifying that matter. As long as you ensure a repeat doesn't occur, I don't imagine we'll have any further issues." And with that said, the Kensai starts to meander back towards his spot. Which, will bring him to slightly booze spattered papers- and the sight of his wife getting into fisticuffs with a wizard.
Satoshi is about to accept the truce when Svilfon looks away, clearly distracted by the flashy entrance of the bard. That's when she strikes, hand lashing out to take hold of Svilfon's wizardly beard to give it a good, sharp yank. And just as quickly, the magus skips backwards, releasing the beard while grinning with impish delight. "-Now- I fight like a girl~." There's a softly murmured, "And your hat isn't stupid" that follows this. Truce.
Misaki sighs softly, going over to Satoru, who was downing his seventh drink. "...blind idiot," she said, flicking his ear, "weren't you going to go hit on the queen?" Satoru perked his head up. "Oh no, Mishtresh," he slurred, "I wash shusht gonna tell 'er Mashesty she's suuuuuper puuuurdy..." with this, he fell out of his chair onto the ground. Unconsious. "IT's about time," Misaki said with a sigh.
Drargon, upon spotting Satoru's collapse, has a barmaid at the ready to offer Misaki assistance. Overall, the barkeep seems quite pleased with the results of his new drink's reveal, and so he's willing to wave the newly arrived bard forward instead of chasing him off. "Evenin', laddy. Come have yerself a mug of Cryothain's Tears. It'll put some much needed hair on yer chest, so you stop dressin' like a brothel girly!" Drargon laughs heartily at his own joke--perhaps he's had a sip or too of the ale as well tonight.
Chakor rubs his eyes trying to get them to readjust. He notices that what he thought were tailfeather were actually a set a glorious wings. Kicking himself for his stupidity he tries to regain his composure. We walks back over to the avian to apologize "Very sorry about that miss. This drink seems to be far stronger than I anticipated." He extends a very hairy hand "Name's Chakor."
Misaki shakes her head at the barmaid. "I got him," she said, stooping down and picking up the humanoid crossbow into her arms. She then takes the man outside and dumps him in the snow. Satoru didn't even stir. "Cool your body off and sober up, you idiot," she said to him, entering the tavern once again. She rna her fingers through her now-carnation-pink hair, looking around. Seeing Satoru this drunk just kind of turned her away from the drink - her half-drunk drink was left forgotten at her table.
Svilfon learns rather hard the lesson of taking your attention away from the queen of Frostmaw. She's as tricky as he is... nay! Trickier! And he acknowledges it with a rubbing of his chin after the good sharp yank and another grin to the woman, flashing his gaps and fangs in equal measure. "Done." He tips his hat to her, even as he reaches out apparently without looking and scoops up a new mug from a passing barmaid. He lifts it in silent salute to the queen, to her husband, to the bard and to Drargon, to the drunken familiar and her owner, to Chakor, who has impressed him, and even to Blyss, whom he does not know, before tilting his head and knocking half of it back in a single swallow. A burp comes in its wake, before he turns and speaks, "Bloody politics... and hansy pansy folk scared of a little violence... I'm still drinking!".. which he kinda is. He can't handle too much more, even if the fight cleared his head a little. He would perhaps have carried on, but after hearing Drargon's words, once more the wizard is laughing, this time along-side the former warrior.
Misaki nods once to the lycan. "Nice to meet you, Mister Chakor," she said, taking the fuzzy hand, "I am Misaki. I'm a hunter." She jerked her thumb over her hsoulder. "That drunken idiot in the nsow now is my crossbow, Satoru."
Satoshi retreats back to her shared table with Kasyr, where the two tankards still wait. The magus plops into her seat with a contented sigh and twitches her whiskers at Kasyr in what is assumptively an affectionate gesture. "Howdy, cutie~. Come here often~?" The kensai's arm is given a nudge from Satoshi's shoulder as she collects one of her mugs to resume drinking, this time a bit more carefully than before. She can still feel that odd tingling that starts at her whiskers and ends at the tip of her tail.
Blyss , now on his third drink watches as the vampire king moves back to his spot. Blyss rubs his head where he had been hit. It hadn't hurt long. He didn't like the Kasyr's deminer in the end, but he didn't know which was the stronger, and didn't want to test it. He finishes his drink quickly, thinking to himself 4 might be good. "Keep, uno moss. . . onne more please?" Blyss looks back across the room towards Kasyr. Now truely wondering if he wanted to be Sheriff of Larket. Not knowing about such attcks he wondered how many others had been hurt by the last sheriff.
Kasyr has polished off drink number four- something which leads to him calling for yet another drink, and another steak to boot. There was a definite warmth in his stomach, a feeling he's long missed. Before he can contemplate further on the matter, and whether Drargon could work out a way to work this sort of magic with blood wine, Satoshi's back at his table. Suffice to say, his attention span sort of drifts at this point, as he leans in and offers her a sort of lazy salute with his goggles- right before they snap back against his forehead, "Non, but if you do- I'd definitely consider it."
Misaki glances over at the wizard who was now by himself. "Please excuse me," she said to Chakor, to which she walked over to the wizard. "Greetings," she said with a slight bow, "I couldn't help but notice you were staring at me earlier, after the snowball fight. Was there something on your mind, sir?"
Satoshi ensures her tankard is at least half empty before she replies to Kasyr, all grins. "Just about every night. Hard to be lonely then, y'know~? Although..." Here she stops to inspect her mug and the remnants of its pale contents. Satoshi's starting to feel positively warm at this point, and for an ice eidolon, it's a most unusual feeling. She nuzzles closer to Kasyr, as if the revenant is a secret source of cooling properties. "Although, if Drargon's gonna keep serving this stuff, I might have to visit less often. Stuff's too lightning-y for me~."
Svilfon feels the effects of the potent drink rushing up at him, after knocking back the rest of his glass. And that seat by the fire... is it calling his name? He wanders over to it, before dropping down with a contented sigh. He motions lazily for another mug, but doesn't notice when the barmaid places it on the arm of his chair. He's fairly content to sit looking at Aodhan in the fire... even as his eyes... "No!", it's said to no one in particular. He ensures his eyes stay open long enough for him to mutter something about drinking nulling the laws of face drawing amongst the Coterie, before he reclines fully back, eyes shut, and after brushing the mug on the arm of his chair, sipping contentedly at it. It still burned, and he felt very strange. As he hears Misaki speak to him, he pops open a single eye and grins, "You and your companion, who I quite admire for his drinking skill, I might add... very strange. A man who is a weapon, I've not seen that before." He nods his head as thoughts swim through the clouds within his mind, "Perhaps when the day's... labours... are not upon us, you and I can discuss it. I am not fond of mysteries, unless they're my own, of course." He grins at that, and it's only a little lop-sided.
Foster eyes Drargon up and down, much the same way a cat might peer at a mouse; the entire act was ridiculous, in the least, given their size difference. The Bard scoffs at the barkeep! "You sir, have made an enemy this night!" Delicate hands are thrust upon his hips in attempt to don a scowl. "I challenge you to a duel!" The Half Elf nods his head, as though to affirm his decision in this. "Drunken definitions!" His hand extends to the nearest barmaid, his eyes still remaining on the barkeep, in a fierce wild-west style stare down. The mug of Father Winter's piss is handed to the Bard, whereupon Foster gulps it down. For a moment, he fights off the grimace. He struggles to keep a straight face, but after a wee few seconds, does he emit a slight gagging noise and dry-heave reflex. "By Loose-Lucy's smallclothes, that was disgusting." He shakes his head, clearing the wave of nausea, and awaiting Drargon's reply.
Kasyr draws back for a moment, if only to feign a look of sorrow, "That's a sorry shock to hear. If something lightning-y might drive tu away, I don't know how I'd be able to hold your attention, madamoiselle. I'm a bit energetic at times, to say the least." Which is about the point he leans in, and promptly ruffles up Satoshi's hair.
Blyss drinks from his mug. drinking slower, feeling the warmthing in his fingers now. He lets his mind wonder as he sares off. He stands and walks out of the tavern mug in hand. Blyss tosses few gold coins for the keep. "I'm keeping the Glass." he mumbles as he stumbles out the door. His fine cloak swirling behind him.
Misaki smiles a little at the drunk wizard. "Certainly," she replied, "I'd be happy to explain it to you someday. My name is Misaki... though you probably won't remember that." She chuckled, "You can call on my anytime." She then left the wizard to whatever to head outside to check on her companion - when he burst inside screaming at the top of his lung, "COOOOOLD!!!" to which he tackled Misaki over, clinging to her and shiver. That just made Misaki lose it and start laughing like a hyena - loud and obnoxious.
Svilfon snickers at Misaki's words, "I will remember it." And he would - the wizard is good with names. To the rest of her words, he offers a tip of his hat and another jovial grin, which is still on his face when he hears her laughing from outside. He laughs along with her at the scream of cold, and can't help but add to no one in particular, " Welcome to Frostmaw."
Drargon eyes the bard with a stern expression. Beneath it, the giant likes Foster's attitude and confidence, but outwardly he must wear the mask of the fierce ex-warrior. "Lassy," he barks in his thundering voice, "ye'd best not be callin' my pride and joy 'disgustin'. I know yer not from these parts, and so you have no properly refined tasted for -true- ale, but twig-legged elves should be keepin' their mouths shut if they can't handle the drink. I've been drinking the strongest ales since my mum couldn't handle me nursin' anymore. Don't go thinkin' you can outlast me!" Drargon thumps his belly as his words rumble through the tavern, answered by cheers from other patrons--the ones cautious enough to drink slowly, lest they join the others who have passed out. Encouraged by the calls, Drargon takes a pair of flagons filled with his beloved brew, and downs them both in a single gulp each. For a moment the barkeep just stands there, before he bends forward and down until his face is level with Foster's. Once there, Drargon stares at the elf a moment, opens his mouth, and belches, loud and powerful. "Hear the roar of Cryothain's Tears!"
Svilfon cheers as loudly as any giant at Drargon's words, in between once again laughing so hard he almost falls of his chair. The wizard damn near gets up to shake his hand at the mighty roar of Cyrothain's Tears! Thoroughly impressed, he keeps his eye on the pair... fights and drinks, now entertainment. Life doesn't get much better than this!
Kasyr does, admittedly end up paying a bit of attention to Foster and Drargon's exchange- but it's only at that mountainous belch that he finds himself staring. It's like hearing a carriage crash- he just can't look away.
Misaki forces herself ot her feet, holding a shivering Satoru to herself. "See if you can transform," she said, "then I can place you by the fire without worrying your breath will burn you up from the inside out." Satoru nodded, grimacing. The humanoid's body started giving off a shadowy look, as he started to shrink and dissolve into shadows. The shadows then solidified into Misaki's most trusted weapon, the crossbow. Misaki thn went over to the fire and placed the ice-cold weapon nearby, though not near enough that it could get harmed by the flames. She sat next to her weapon, watching the contest between the elf and the giant. This should be interesting.
Satoshi looks from her glass to Kasyr and back again, as if horribly torn between two impossible choices. After a moment of this, the kit downs the remainder of her drink before placing the mug firmly on the table, fingers pushing it out of the way. Kasyr is turned to then with a grin. "Well, if I can only handle lightning-y whatnot to a certain degree, I obviously must choose which of the two I prefer. I think I prefer yours." The magus leans up then to deliver a kiss to the revenant's cheek, adding in a whisper, "The mugs don't have those splendid calico ears, after all, nor can they sweet talk~."
Foster is a Bard. Thank the gods for that! His showmanship is good enough to weather a ferocious battle-burp, even one on such a large scale. Was that brisket he could smell? At any rate, the Bard maintains a look of condescending parent. "The rules of drunken definitions are as follows: On your turn, you define a word. It can be hogwash, or honest truth." Foster hands his empty mug to the barmaid, in attempts to garner another, which is promptly given to him. "I call bullspit if I think it's farce, and we have a judge decide if it is. If it's not, I drink two, if it is, you drink two. If I don't challenge the definition, I drink one. We take turns this way." He stops to down the brew, this time ready for the scourge upon his throat and stomach, "And we continue until one of use can piss outside without it freezing before it hits the ground. Do you accept these parameters?" Foster leans forward--or up, rather--scowling at the barkeep.
The firepit's occupant and caretaker finds herself suddenly torn. For Aodhan the fire wyrm had been in the process of creeping up on Svilfon, eyeing that tasty looking glass, when a crossbow was set down on the edge of the wyrm's brick territory. The fires of the pit crackle with Aodhan's curiosity and slowly, cat-like, the young saurian begins prowling closer. With a body of crimson, orange, and yellow scales that burn with their own fiery light, Aodhan is dangerously well camoflauged within the bed of flames, only the darker red embers of her eyes tending to stand out. A long, forked serpentine tongue snakes out, tasting the air near Satoru.
Svilfon takes a sip of his drinking, flashing his gaze between Drargon and Foster. He really has had enough drinking, but he will not give in just yet. He'll keep going until he falls asleep... this chair was more comfortable than the one in Ignatius's office, which he slept in yesterday. He did shift his gaze briefly to take in the man turning back into a crossbow, but he'll speak to Misaki about that tomorrow, if he can catch her... for now he'll just have to be curious.
Svilfon spares a brief look at Aodhan, but with a small smile he looks back to the contest between bard and barkeep.
Misaki was too focused on the drinking in front of her to notice what was going on in the fire. Satoru, on the other hand, noticed something - he didn't know what - was moving inside the flames. The crossbow melted and reformed into Satoru in a split second, with the humanoid clinging to Misaki, who looked extremly annoyed. "Something moved in the fire!" Satoru shrieked, "It's going to eat me!" "You're still drunk," Misaki said, "do I need to stick you in the snow again?"
Kasyr tilts his head towards Satoshi, so as to pilfer a proper kiss when she goes in for that kiss on his cheek. Other than that, however, he's fairly well behaved, "Well I do aim to please, mon amour." Well-behaved, and still drinking. That fifth mug is getting precariously close to empty.
Drargon, although listening to Foster, sends an anxious look toward the fire. No one ever speaks of it, but everyone knows that wyrm is like a child to the barkeep, and he's fiercely protective of her. And also disapproving of her habit of eating belongings of patrons. "Aodhan, no," he calls, seemingly talking to the fire. In response, the flames shrink in on themselves, admonished, and a soft, displeased hiss issues from the burning logs. For now, Aodhan is cowed. She won't harass anyone when Drargon is watching. And back to the bard goes Drargon's attention, his grin wide under his bushy beard. "I accept, lassy. Here's the word- Vermusni. It's a mouse beasty with naked, mole-like claws. Teeth as strong as steel, can eat through anything and eats anything. A common pest of taverns."
Misaki shakes her head at her companion, patting his hair. "Satoru, I'm going to have to sober you the old-fashioned way, aren't I?" sh asked, standing, "C'mon. Transform. I'll keep you warm 'til we get to the forest." Satoru nodded, transforming back into a crossbow. Then the avian's wings flashed white for a moment, and the pink-haired Avian was gone.
Svilfon very sneakily slips Aodhan some food while Drargon looks back at Foster. He couldn't help it! Aodhan is the only other fire-type to live in this frozen kingdom; the wizard has a soft-spot. That done, he keeps his gaze on the pair, while requesting from a barmaid one more drink. He thinks he can do one more.
Satoshi settles in comfortably against Kasyr to watch the exchange between bard and barkeep. The magus' eyelids are definitely drooping as the effects of the ale and various festival events take their toll on her. But that's all right, she has a kensai for a pillow.
Foster :: The Bard's middle name is Dangerous. Plus, what kind of a word is that anyways? On all his travels, he hadn't heard of any thing like it. "Well, such a thing might be common in this backwater village..." The Bard eyes the barmaid, making sure she understands that he is challenging the barkeeps word, "But I call bat dung on that!" Foster folds his arms and eyes the patrons of the tavern. "It looks like we need a judge." The drunk the better, in his mind. He can already feel that wicked taint of a brew milking his otherwise ever-sturdy eyesight. Why today, did his buzz have to start with the eyes? How bothersome!
Satoshi perks up a bit, a hand raised to catch Foster's attention. "It's not a made-up word. Vermusni are a common pest here in Frostmaw. Adorable little devils, but devils nonetheless~." Drargon's broad teeth are bared in a grin directed at Foster. "Her ladyship has spoken, so drink up, lassy."
Chakor barely musters the strength to make it back to the table his feline companion is sleeping next to. He finishes off his sixth and final brew. With a fading breath he mumbles "That's a drink for greater men than me." With that his face becomes best friends with the surface of the table. Never to be seperated, at least for the time being.
Kasyr for his part, just polishes off drink number five, before he settles an arm around the sleepy snow magus. Sure, he's still going to poke at the remains of a steak near him, and he's certainly not going to decline the sixth mug that's settled down near him- but he's more than content to take his time in doing so, and just relish the good company.
Svilfon snickers quietly, while muttering about the classic blunders, the most well known being never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known: Never go against a Frostmawian barkeep when drinks are on the line!
A passing barmaid is kind enough to lift Chakor's head and mop up the spilled drink beneath, so the poor fellow doesn't wake up later with a sticky ale-face. Aside from that, she leaves him in peace, along with the numerous other patrons who haven't escaped their tables since succumbing to Drargon's potent brew.
Foster only momentarily wonders about the allegiance of the judge, but regardless, holds his hands out to the barmaid. Two mugs are given, and Foster goes to work on thinking up what word he will use. One mug is drained slowly, Foster contemplating the monster of a word he would drop on the barkeep. The second one is gone in a flash. Bard's require a strong tolerance for alcohol, what with visiting taverns so often. That is the way most patrons prefer to pay a Bard, with the offering of a free drink or two. He feels pretty confident of his ability to confound Drargon enough to outlast him. The first challenge was to show that he wasn't afraid. The next won't be so careless! "Acronychal. A word for nightfall or the setting of the sun. Used in a sentence: Women are easy to charm when cast beneath a romantic, acronychal sky."
Satoshi's ears twitch. Now there's a word you don't hear very often. Drargon's face furrows into a frown. He's a giant, they don't tend to bother with more than basic words--anything else is stuff for the fancypants mages and bards, who aren't content with 'normal'. And again, he's a giant, he can endure his own brews to an extent far beyond most mortal beings (and he'd like to think he could hold out against Aramoth himself too). Thus, Drargon says bluntly, "It's a word. Not a proper word, if normal folk don't use it every day, but it's a word. You elf types are always using those sorts of words."
Svilfon keeps on muttering various things, quieter and quieter, until the barely formed words shift into the sound of light snoring; a perfect accompaniment to his beard. A mug half-filled remains in his hand, and he'd not spill it, but it seems the drink and earlier snowball fight, plus the skuffle with the snowqueen, have all caught up to him. Second night sleeping in a chair... at least this one was warm! Hopefully he's not too sore in the head tomorrow... this was only the second day! He's got a lot of fun to look forward to yet.
Foster :: An old man huddled in the back playing a rather intense game of dice looks over at the group playing the definition game. He pipes up in a heavily accented voice, "Thar be a wurd. Once a 'Izard o' great powa dun told me to use et on a lass to impress 'er. It be true!" Foster snickers, and shrugs his shoulders, "One for you, ya oaf."
Satoshi, like Svilfon, has lost her battle with sleep and is now soundly cozied up against Kasyr. Which leaves the kensai one of the few still awake and coherent in the entire tavern. Drargon observes this and the old man's confirmation with a stout laugh. "Laddy," he says to Foster, the change of nickname marking his approval, "yer welcome in this tavern any time. The boys would get a kick out of yer game, were it any day but today. I'll give ya this round. I've got patrons need tendin' an' glasses need cleanin', else one will break the other with their snoring." Foster is given an affectionate pat on the back, which coming from a giant is a dangerous thing, before Drargon downs two more mugs for good measure and returns to his duties. The barkeep is a proud, proud giant today, observing the detrimental effects his concoction has had upon even Frostmaw's sturdiest warriors. Kasyr is given a respectful nod, as the last one standing in the contest.
Foster offers the barkeep a laugh and a nod of his head, but with the pat on his back, his stomach turns sour. "I commend you on your drink, sir. Of fine grade, and I have tasted many a brew before." He quickly finds himself a chair and sits down, before a wave of nausea can cripple him. Father Winter's Piss for sure, that thing is going to take it's toll on him tomorrow! The world spins in a haphazard fashion, and Foster begins humming a stilling song to himself, for release from the dreaded spins.
Kasyr offers Drargon a salute, an appreciative nod- and a sizeable tip, just because. Which is about the point the Kensai finishes that sixth mug and finally moves to get up to his feet. Tipsiness is an unfamiliar friend to the Revenant, something which has him momentarily pausing in his steps, before he moves to properly scoop Satoshi up. Frankly, the thought of a bed was sounding rather appealing to Kasyr, anyways, even if almost everyone hadn't proceeded to doze off around him.