(( We always write such serious rp blogs about what is happening like war and all in the realms. This time, I took the time to write up one that isn’t serious or dark. Now it is a pretty long one, so I will be putting the entire thing on the Extended Entry, hope you all like it.))
“Its your shot.”
“Again?”
“Hahahaha what’s the matter can’t hang?”
A mutter of protest fell free from his lips before the fingers wrapped around the large shot-glass that sat between the three friends. “I hate you all.” Then the liquor was downed and the glass slammed back onto the table. “Okay, next?”
The King muttered as Demerol reached across the table of the local bar in Kjeldoran and poured a glass of a Draconian liquor for his brother. The liquid slid out as smooth as silk and filled it with an amber color that was warm the instant that it touched your lips. Farg smiled as he looked at the others at the table and nodded before downing the shot and grinning broadly as the shot-glass was replaced for Silthes round to begin.
They had been there for the entire night, a night off from the War. It had been so long since the group of friends and brothers in arms had taken a night to themselves, no worry of the D’Sari Brood and the war brewing between them. No defending the Altar of their God Ahriman from enemy attacks, tonight that would be left to the younger knights and soldiers. The patrons that moved in and out left no mark of their presence behind and the waitress worked the entire room on enchanted feet. Every now and then other heros of the realm would appear to ask for quests to better their fame and get extra gold.
Armanon had shed his scales so to speak, conforming the demon within to shroud his form in the Titans flesh he had shed so long ago. It took deep meditation and concentration on the forces around him, but he managed to regain his mortal flesh at least for the evening. The Kings Farg and Demerol had came as well, it was amazing the change and difference between them when they weren’t confined in the Castles walls. Silthe was also there, Cornell and Nimbis. The three of them made up the finest and most elite of Ahrimans warriors.
As the shots continued to go, one by one, down each of the companions throat, the night passed by in a sort of haze. Demerol had gone to the Drug Dealer in a hidden room of the Bar to buy some goodies for the group and Silthe had ran to get some biscuits from a shop further in town. To put it lightly, the Knights of Ahriman were trashed and it was still early in their worlds because, after all, they couldn’t see the sun even if it did come up.
“Oh no..” Came the voice of Nimbis as the shot glass levitated in front of his mouth waiting to get taken in at the simplest of thoughts.
The others glanced and snickered as the small demonic pixie priest fluttered into the room. It was amazing such a small creature was so powerful, but none the less, he was just so little. “Pixie Splat!” Cornell yelled out from the table and rose his glass in toast. When Kaiko looked over, a knife sailed across the room and imbedded itself in the wooden post beside him. Kaikos little demon lips spread back and he hissed at the members of the group. Who, at the sight of seeing a demon pixie hiss, fell into fits of hysterics and laughter. A glare was given from Kaiko who flipped them the bird and floated off to get a quest muttering darkly about pig food and buckets with their names on it.
The night continued, laughter and arguments breaking out over more and more shots and a healthy tab running at the bar and with the drug dealer. They had forgotten about all the more ruthless happenings that consumed the day-to-day life for the moment and released their aggressions with alcohol and just a little drow-cooked heroin. At one point Sparky had fizzled out of the shadows after he passed beneath the ancient runes and wardings that had been placed along the foundation by ancient spell-casters. The Sorcerer even sat with them for awhile and shared some drinks over light conversation about the Stygian’s attempts at rebuilding and dealings with the Infernal Orders brood. It was amazing the little things that can be learned by sitting back and listening instead of interjecting every few seconds.
When they finally stumbled out of the bar it was well into mid-day. Each of them hid their eyes from the invading sun as they glanced around the hustling streets of the city and took turns trying to pin-point the right direction to go.
“I’m done..” Armanon muttered quietly.
Farg chuckled softly and shook his head, his brother Dem was the one who spoke the thoughts, “Hail to the Kings baby.” A sure nod was given.
Nimbis was walking into random objects, “Damnit!” He screamed as he nearly fell over a group of pottery jars setting next to a shop entrance.
“What’s the matter, cast confuse on yourself?” It was Cornell, floating nearby wrapped in his shadows. Unfortunately Nimbis thought Silthe had said it as the tricky spell-caster used ventriloquism to imitate the poor assassin and Nimbis turned with a mock scowl and casted confuse on him. This caused Silthe’s feet to immediately spin on the poor drunken Knight and he fell face first onto the pavement with a quick and sound thud. To which Cornell soon followed in another fit of laughter.
“So, what do ya’ll want to do tonight?” It came from a thoughtful Armanon who was watching with mild amusement at them.
“Nurse a hangover.” Offered Silthe as he stumbled to his feet and began trying to navigate while confused, like watching a man get his sea-legs, it was funny.
“Bah, lets raid Stygian later and knock over their altar.” Farg snickered in reply.
“We should kidnap their altar and hold it for ransom.” Demerol chimed in.
“Lets just kill someone.” Silthe muttered as he weaved past Armanon and toward the Square. “That’s always fun.”
They all shrugged in basic unison. “Alright!” Farg exclaimed, “To the castle then, we’ll nurse our hangovers, get our training done with early and we’ll have a night of hunting.” Demerol nodded in approval and they were off to the Castle Grounds. Every now and then they needed a night off, it was good for morale and a good chance to see who could drink who under the table.