Chapter 2: South Wind

[Dicer]

Veskassdak immediately speaks up, "You have Mahk'tha'tuulo? Is made in home."

 

[Sherwood]

Wren orders a stout beer for herself, then as she is pulling out some coin to pay for it all, she says in a conspiratorial tone of voice, "I am in need of something light and sweet for our friend. She has never had a drink of alcohol, and I'm hoping to get her well and truly buzzed."

 

[Dicer]

Realizing that the drink's name in his tongue may not translate well, he adds, "Perhapsss it called by mammalsss asss 'Ssswamp Ssspiritsss'. If not have maybe have Heemovvo. Hmm. Maybe that drink called by 'Wine From Blood of Foesss'. If not have, then have sssomething with tassste good."

 

[Silanon]

When Veskassdak asks for the drink, the Ifrit musters him, thoughtfully. He tries to repeat the name multiple times, with horrible pronouncination - then shakes his head. "I travelled alongside the Forgotten for eighteen years, saw mountains, deserts and wild forests. But I never heard of such a drink. It must be very special, and a well-kept secret, if noone ever got to taste it. What is it made of? Roots? With hops, or barley? Does it taste like the sun, or more like the moon? Does it give strength, or make you dizzy? I'd like to try it, some day - maybe, if you'd tell me where to get it, I could get my hands on a barrel or two?" The ifrit pauses for a moment, getting beer and something that looks like a dark red wine, a half-hidden smile as she follows Wren's request. "I certainly have something for such an occasion, young lady - arrived yesterday morning, from the southern hills."

He then turns back to the lizard man as Veskassdak elaborates. "Swamp spirits sounds not familiar, either, I have to admit - the same goes for the alternative. Excuse my curiosity - but where would I find the tribe of yours? There must be much to learn for me, if someone was willing to welcome me there? For now, let me take a wild guess, and serve you the worst dwarven brewery has to offer - I could imagine it might be to your liking. If not, just tell me, and I'll find something else - I pride myself to have something in store for any fighter who comes along, and I'm certain you won't be an exception." He presents a stein filled with a dark-brown, slightly sparkling fluid to you, the strong scent of alcohol clearly noticeable.

 

[Dicer]

Veskassdak sniffed the drink the firehair-looking mammal gave him before taking a sip. It was strong, but nowhere nearly as strong as Heemovvo. Nor was it a flavorful as Mahk'tha'tuulo. The one thing that was a redeeming factor about it was it did refresh him.
"Hmph," he began. "Finding tribe not easssy. Dangerousss for unwary. Maybe take there when go back."
Indicating the drink, he continues, "Thisss weak next to Heemovvo. Mahk'tha'tuulo tassste better, too. How dessscribe tasste difficult in mammal wordsss. Not know how to make either. Know Mahk'tha'tuulo made from fermented mossss rootsss, but not what elssse. Heemovvo made from plant with blood colored sssap, but not know what elssse. Not drinkmaker. Ssstill ssslakesss thirssst. Do for now. What mammalsss like thisss? How much 'money' want thisss? Me no try cheat you."

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Baird decides to have the dark red wine as well, partly because he wanted it, but also to make Renna feel more at ease. "I think I'll have some of that as well sir," Baird says with a grin on his face.
Psychie Silanon Dicer Sherwood

 

[Sherwood]

Wren tells the barkeep, "I'll take care of this round. Now, lets see what our paladin thinks of her first drink of wine." She waits anxiously to see the results of her experiment.

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Turning to Renna Baird reassures her, "I'll drink when you drink, at least for this first glass,"

 

[Psychie]

The holy warrior looks dubious, but is trying to focus on the fact that her companions wouldn't deliberately try to get her in trouble. Glancing over at Baird, she finally nods, taking the glass as if it held a live snake. "So, do I sip at it, or guzzle it down?"

 

[Sherwood]

"Just take a regular drink, don't chug it. Let your taste buds enjoy the experience."

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

"Unless you want to absolutely get ruined, then I would say just sip it; Wren's right by the way," Baird then winks at Wren. "If you're wondering why I know this, let's just say that I was invited to a magical party once. Had to learn manners fast."
Sherwood Psychie

 

[Psychie]

Renna finally succumbs to peer pressure and slowly takes a drink, and promptly breaks into a coughing fit as the alcohol burns on its way down. She manages to croak out, "Oh my. That is . . . interesting. People drink this on purpose?"

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Renna finally succumbs to peer pressure and slowly takes a drink, and promptly breaks into a coughing fit as the alcohol burns on its way down. She manages to croak out, "Oh my. That is . . . interesting. People drink this on purpose?"

"Some people actually enjoy the burn that results from it, like myself for instance," Baird takes a drink from his glass before continuing, "There are even stronger variants too!"

 

[Psychie]

Renna continues to sputter, much to the amusement of the other patrons in the bar/tent. After a few deep breaths, she manages to say, "I think that I might not be interested in anything stronger than this . . . concoction. This is enough for me. Thank you."

 

[Sherwood]

Wren smiles. "You should take it easy on that stuff. Since its your first drink, we don't want you falling down drunk after just a few glasses. Between you and Veskassdak, we really don't need to start a scene here with a wild lizard man and a drunken paladin going nuts." She continues to work on her drink, and motions for the bartender to come over. "Any chow to go with this here, or is this tent just drinks?"

 

[Dicer]

Veskassdak watched Renna as she sipped the drink she had and remembered his first taste of heemovvo and sympathized with her.
"Firssst time alwaysss trial," he spoke. "Getsss better with time."
He took another gulp of his drink and sighed as he felt the warmth spread through him.

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

Baird chuckled as Renna stopped drinking, "It's your first drink so it's natural that you might want to stop. Don't worry though, we'll make sure you and drinks get along smoothly in the future.

 

[Psychie]

"Thank you?" She realizes that she is the target of much humor from her friends, but at least they are letting her off easy. "At least I can now say that I've had a drink of strong spirits. But, for now, I shall not be a rude drinking partner, and I'll finish off this glass. I suppose we shall have to see what the future holds for me, yes?" With the second swallow, it goes down a little smoother, especially now that she was forewarned as to what to expect.

 

[Silanon]

The bartender watches the paladin's reaction, seemingly satisfied with his choice of wine. "Mostly drinks, I'm afraid, though we do have a simple stew on the fire." He turns towards another customer for just a few moments, before returning to the previous conversation. "If Heemovvo is even stronger, I certainly need to give it a try. Nothing like a burning fire in your chest after a good day of fighting - or other work. Most humans find this taste a bit too strong, compared to their own brew, at least. The elves tend to have quite spirituous drinks to offer as well, but usually keep their recipes secret, and I think there's one in the entire camp."

 

[Sherwood]

Wren laughs. "There is a difference in a fire in the chest and gouts of flame shooting from your mouth. I've had some stronger stuff before, and I know my limits. I'll stick to this lightweight stuff, thank you very much, but I'll happily take a bowl of your stew off your hands."

 

[Dicer]

"You ssstill not sssay how many 'money' trade for drink and food. No want cheat," Veskassdak commented to the tent owner.

 

[Clockwork Syringe]

"If what you say about this brew of yours is true Veskassdak, I'm curious to try it myself to be honest. Oh and Veskassdak, you usually pay for drinks after you're finished drinking as a whole." However, at the mention of "inner fire" Baird paused for a moment and took out the Dragon' s Promise from underneath his robes as it was still hanging around his neck in an attempt to figure out what it did.(Hasn't tried to identify it today yet)
Silanon Dicer Sherwood Psychie

 

[Sherwood]

Wren looks over at him and says, "Don't forget, I'm taking care of the first round of drinks. After that, its up to you to pay for your stuff."

 

[Dicer]

Veskassdak nodded to Wren. He had forgotten she had said she would pay for the first round because of the flaming flying stones trouble.
He took another gulp of the brew and again enjoyed the warming sensation as it flowed down his throat. He decided that he would buy a few flasks worth to keep with him to enjoy later on.

 

[Silanon]

If he wants, Veskassdak can aquire half a dozen flasks for the price of 2 gold coins. Wren will get her stew, as ordered - nothing fancy, but quite nutritious, with a few slices of roasted chicken in the mix.

As Baird once more examines the amulet, he still cannot find out its exact purpose. But as you take another sip, the world around you suddenly becomes blurry. It seems to start spinning around your head, the tent turns into dancing shadows. You feel a steady pain in your chest, a wound that will never ever heal. The knowledge that once in your entire life, you failed to be where you were needed the most. Centuries have past by now, and yet you still see her lifeless eyes, hold her tortured body in the midst of the battlefield. You promised to always watch over her, and yet here you are, on the anniversary of her death - far away from her grave, drinking pure alcohol to forget your sorrow. A comforting hand reaches out for your shoulder, but right now, comfort is the last thing you need. A voice interrupts your grieving rage: "She must have been a very special woman, if she still owns your heart after all this time." A single sentence, but still enough to remind yourself of her, leaning against the magnificient tree. Reading about the very same powers that took her precious life in the end. You see her smile once again, and her look later on as you revealed your secret. Surrounded by dead bandits, torn apart - if only you'd been there for her during the final battle. You take another gulp off your mug... and the vision fades away. The sorcerer returns from his short moment of absence, the amulet once again feels warm. Your wine might taste a little stale, but other than that, you're fine.