A night to remember

Well, getting picked up by the Knight of Salos himself to join a growing crowd of soldiers had been kind of unexpected.

Wasn’t he supposed to be up in the keep with the fancy folk?

But it became very clear very fast that Zane himself didn’t really do ‘fancy’, at the very least not tonight.

Fair enough.

She certainly didn’t complain. Drinks aplenty, good company- the makings of a great night.

To the surprise of absolutely no one the “Drunken Hare” was the watering hole of choice and she even saw a few familiar faces in the crowd having a good time themselves.

Well, Frespit did. Hunter she wasn’t so sure. But to each their own.

She hoisted her mug to Zane’s toast and wasn’t at all surprised when he broke out the dice to start on the drinking games.

She was no stranger to “Zin’s Fingers”, bringer of many a hangover and many a throw up session, though she knew it under a different name: “Tribute to the Trickster”. Who or what the Trickster was she didn’t rightly know, but the name was old, very old. Maybe even reaching back to the times when they had, indeed, been clansmen rather than countrymen and worshipped powerful spirits rather than the five pillars.

She answered Zane’s obvious challenge with a crooked smirk and grabbed the offered dice.


Without breaking eye contact she proceeded with an tradition among her people just as old as dice games itself- “inspire” the dice before the first roll.

Fold her hands around it and tip her brow - spirit.
Breath onto them in her open palms - life.
Kiss them - heart.

And then she threw them on the table.

As the evening went on, with more people joining their table, she found herself thoroughly enjoying herself, partaking in drink and story, almost feeling at home.

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