Blah blah blah, Zel was drunk off his ass. Blah blah blah, someone left the table. Blah blah blah, things became less and less coherent as each drink settled. Blah blah blah his body was sixty percent ale at this point. Blah blah blah he was sure that he'd die here pretty soon. Blah blah blah something about being the ale king. Blah blah blah someone sat in front of him. Blah blah blah all the ale mugs were full. Blah blah blah He drank them all and probably lost. @Seigi Wellness: - 00 Drunkenness: + 205 Thrown dice: 5 23 61 16 37 33 73 35 488 TOTAL Win: 9 / Lose: 8
"..." Was there even still a need for words? Talking meant less drinking. Less drinking was bad. Why? Because it meant others would drink this devil's nectar before Seigi could! After all, what initially was a mission to claim victory for the sake of victory now turned into stopping the others from going down the same route as her. Maybe she should spend her money to buy all of the Ale around this place? THAT would fix the problem! But as if, at this point, Seigi could think that far. No. Less thinking. No talking. Just more drinking. Wellness: - 00 Drunkenness: + 260 Thrown dice: 75 64 72 80 64 73 86 92 Result: 866 Win: 9 / Lose: 12
Zelrius was almost 100% sure he had had enough after this. This was too much even now, and the dark spots in his vision grew even wide, now almost being all encompassing. All he had now was the inverse; most of his vision was dark, and he only had little tunnels of light and understanding. Though, not much understanding was to be had in those tunnels. Actually to be quite honest, a sight like that would have terrified Zelrius if he were sober. However, drunk Zelrius couldn't care less, only knowing it as a time to end this useless game. He looked up at the person sitting infront of him, wondering why they hadn't moved away just as they normally did. It was a small figure, and that was about all he knew. That, and they weren't moving. Weird? WAKE THEM UP. His mind screamed, and without words, the golden haired man pointed at her, and began pounding the table as hard as he could to get someone or the person's attention.
Dark. Slowly, everything went darker. As the heroes consciouses faded she wasn't even aware what was hitting her. It was, if not for her alcoholic numbness, gentle. Silent. Sweet. Drifting into a dream that, under other circumstances, one would never wake up from again. Drifting into a dream that would end all of the little girl's problems. Finally. It was over. No more suffering. No more torment. No more anguish. Just Freedom, Silence and Peace. She could go. Go free and fly high into the sky. At least, until she'd wake up in one of the temples not remembering any of it... .
