Is it wrong to fleece adventurers at the item shop?

I try to hold back, but in the end it is to no avail. The excitement and general good mood are contagious. Still, I try not to drink too much too fast. I even order some food for everyone, well everyone at our table anyway, to keep us from slipping under the table all too soon.

Tamara might hail from a proud family of bakers, but she isn't a lightweight either, as far as her alcohol tolerance is concerned. It seems that the stories claiming that dwarves are heavy drinkers with an astonishing alcohol tolerance aren't entirely untrue at the very least.

Odolan, the young warrior, on the other hand can't keep up with her. He shouldn't have tried to begin with. I blame the foolhardiness of youth, although I'm not that much older. Neither is Danuta, but she shows some restraint as well.

Thus it is young Odolan who passes out first. It isn't all bad though, as he ends up peacefully snoring with his head in Tamara's lap.

She doesn't seem to mind though. No, quite the opposite might be true.

Anyway, it certainly could be worse. I had the misfortune to meet some much more obnoxious drunks during my time at the academy. The ones who pass out early and only mumble in their sleep are much preferable when compared to the ones who just can't shut up with their drunk ramblings.

I chuckle, and so does Danuta, as the female dwarven adventurer runs a hand through the young man's hair, prompting some more unintelligible mutterings.

I wouldn't be surprised if these two were to become more than just comrades in arms before long. Just give it a little more time. I'm still left wondering what dwarven women see in human men though. With elven men and human women it is the more abundant curves of the latter, when compared to elven women. That is no mystery. What dwarven women see in human men though … I have no clue. I could ask, but I'm not sure I should.

I rub my cheeks and even pinch them for good measure, to ward off these thoughts. I even stuff my face with some of the fatty and heavily salted, fried potato slices to make sure I don't say anything I might end up regretting.

This in turn prompts another chuckle from Danuta, who busies herself with the elegant, long stemmed pipe she is smoking. From the four of us, she is the only one who is still mostly sober. Or at least it appears that way. Well, she is more sober than any of the rest of us at least, even if her cheeks are coloring a little as well.

Instinctively I grab my mug after swallowing the potato slices I have been munching on, emptying it in one big gulp. Curse those tasty, salty treats! They make you even more thirsty! What a nefarious plot by the innkeeper!

Well, that is what I think at least, even if just for a moment. Then I grab another fried potato slice and nibble on it while I rest my head on the table for a moment. Yes, just for a moment. My eyes are growing just entirely too heavy. What pulls me back from the edge of oblivion is the smell of Danuta's pipe.

She must have lit it while I rested my eyes. I take another sniff. I can't quite place the aroma. It certainly isn't plain tobacco though. Weirdly enough, it seems to lessen my building headache to some degree. I take one more sniff, but my mind is too murky to figure out what it is. It is no use. I'll have to ask the witch some other time. Maybe tomorrow or the day after.

It is Danuta who speaks up first though, before I can actually drift off to sleep.

“Well, that was something else for sure. The fey of the Twilight forest are never to be trifled with, but I never expected to have to fight pixies out of all of them.”

I barely manage to lift my head as I respond. I barely manage to open my eyes as well. What I say makes perfect sense to me, although I'm not quite sure if the others can make sense of it, as it comes out in a bit of a slur.

“They are usually harmless. As long as they don't get a taste for blood. Then they turn vicious and bloodthirsty. Just takes one to corrupt them all. It happens. Not too often, but it does.”

Tamara perks up at that. She even stops messing with Odolan's hair for a moment.

“Oh? Is that why we had to make sure? Make sure none got away I mean?”

I just nod and so does the witch as she blows out a pretty little smoke ring. Nifty! I wish I could do that. Except, I would have to pick up smoking to do it. Maybe it is not so nifty after all.

I grab some more potato slices. Once I'm done with them I lick my fingers clean and take a sip from the fresh mug someone placed in front of me.

For a little while the four of us just sit there and listen to the events, as Rafal the Bard retells them in song. Well three of us do. Odolan is still snoring happily. Damn, how can he still sing and play his instrument? I'm pretty sure he has been drinking just as much as anyone else!

Someone pulls the mug I'm clutching away from me. Before I can protest Tamara empties it with a big gulp.

“I think we should get you and our sleeping swordsman into your beds as long as at least one of us can still walk without any help.”

I sputter.

“Hey! I can still walk just fine!”

Danuta breaks into a laughing fit at my words and almost chokes on the smoke of her pipe. It takes her a moment to get her breathing back under control.

“That's what they all say! Come on Tamara, you grab the boy and drag him up to your room. I'll help our dear alchemist get home.”

Before I can protest she hushes me, going as far as to wag her pipe at me.

“Hush! It isn't far, but we wouldn't want you to have an accident. People have fallen into that creek in a drunk stupor before. That hasn't always ended well!”

Well, that does make sense. I give up any attempts at protesting. Instead I grab the last of the potato slices, as I accept my fate.

“Fine, fine … have it your way.”

We get up and Danuta helps Tamara with Odolan for a moment. Then the dwarven woman is off, carrying the larger human on her back. I wince a little as I notice that he is drooling. Well, it probably won't be a problem. The two get along pretty well after all.

Then the witch slings one of my arms over her shoulder and we leave the tavern. She even makes sure to support me on the side, where my injured ankle is, although that is pretty much all better by now.

Walking in a straight line turns out to be harder than I initially anticipated. Without the other woman I might not have managed at all. How did she know? Oh, right she is an adventurer. She is probably familiar with evenings like this one.

We barely manage to get a few steps in, once we are out the tavern's door, before the fresh air hits me like a sledgehammer.

“Danuta … I think … urp!”

Thankfully the witch doesn't need any more warning than I'm able to provide. She turns me sideways, so I throw up to the side of the road. Or well, at least I heave a little. I don't actually end up throwing up and I'm quite thankful for this small mercy. I don't want to end up making a mess like this and the poor, tasty potato wedges don't deserve to end up splattered across the roadside like this either.

Danuta pats me on the back.

“Better? Just let it out if it gets too bad.”

I shake my head vehemently, something I regret doing almost immediatly.

“No, I'm good. Just get me home. I have a special little something on the shelves there.”

The witch chuckles as we get going again.

“Oh? You going to cheat with some alchemy?”

I snort in response.

“Damn straight, I'll cheat! I won't wake up with a hangover tomorrow. And I won't have to worry about throwing up in my bed either! I just regret not bringing one of the hangover cure jellies with me.”

Now it is the witch's turn to snort in amusement.

“Hangover cure jellies? Not really?”

We stop for a moment as we are both to busy laughing to keep walking.

“Well actually, they are cure poison jellies. Turns out alcohol is just another poison as far as they are concerned though.”