Ludo stood to one side of the group – not having known Nicolai he felt at a loss. He could sense the heavy oppressive atmosphere between his fellow team members, it was a emotional moment. Turning to Stephen, “I think we should go and have few drinks at the inn and toast Nicolai”. He deserves to be remember and his life celebrated. Tomorrow is another day and Golthar can wait.
Feldard looked to Ludo a moment, then nodded offering the groups newest member one of his rare smiles. “Yes. Led us to the inn… there I will tell you tales of our friend, while we drink to his memory. Drinks are on me.”
With Feldards promise of free drinks, Ludo led the group back to the Ye Juggling Orc Inn, as the night drew in ever deeper, Ludo knew being in a public house was safe place to be. He doubted Golthar would strike openly in a public inn, there was too much chance the watch would get involved. But being out on the streets in the dark was dangerous, from experience he knew the streets could be very dangerous.
Hasan hated this town, with its filth, its small-minded inhabitants and its fearful walls against the natural world that sustained the place. He was ready to go, but he could not deny Ludo’s truth. It was time for another night in Threshold. The elf joined his comrades at the table for only a short while, and then retired for the night. His memories of Nicolai were brief.
The first keg was only part ways down when Hasan left to retire, but Feldard was just seeming to loosen up for the night. “I could barely tolerate Nicolai when he first encountered our group!” the dwarf commented loudly, “thought was going to slit our throats the first night we left him on watch alone.” There was a thoughtful, toddering pause. “I was wrong about him.”
After a moment, Feldard looked to Ludo and slammed his fist down hard on the table, jarring the drinks not already in hand. “You remind me of him, Ludo. You two could be brothers, except for that you are much uglier!”
The evening’s revelry was interrupted when the keen-eyed rogue noticed a rat-faced man sitting at the bar looking over at the group. As he drained his mug, his sleeve drifted up to reveal the signature tattoo of the Ring. Realizing his mistake, he put his tankard down and hastily made his way to the door. He threaded through a group of townspeople that entered the inn as he made his exit and blended into the street traffic nightlife.
There was nothing to be done, so the evening carried on, with the dwarf drinking and being just a tad boisterous, celebrating Nicolai’s good deeds long into the night until he passed out or the city guards came to try and shut him up.
Stephan helped tote the drunken Feldard to a proper bed for the night. The dwarf was incredibly heavy for his size.
“Urfff,” Stephan grunted under the strain of assisting the dwarf . “How does he move so fast when he needs to? He’s more massive than me but half the height!”
Feldard, despite the advanced effects of strong and abundant drink, effaced a dwarven constitution that allowed brief moments of sobriety in the dense fog of inebriation. It was an ability Stephan had never encountered. Any of his human friends who were so gone with ale were far beyond any rational thought but this dwarf seemed to conjure a sensibleness if needed even when deep in the grasp of alcohol.
Regardless of moments of clarity, Feldard still required a significant level of assistance in gaining secure comfort for the night. Stephan did what he could to help get him to bed. The dwarf launched into a plutonic snores only seconds after hitting the bed.
Stephan, still feeling a bit at odds with Threshold, drank as much water as possible to stave off the effects of the mead he’d drank. “Feldard had so much more than me! I can’t fathom how he was able to even stagger to bed!” In the shared room they had, Stephan took it upon himself to keep awake a few hours after everyone had turned in — just to be sure the night would pass quietly.
* * * * *
The crash of cymbals and drums resounded on the streets, accompanied by the blare of horns, waking the slumbering crew of adventurers. White-robed, incense-burning clerics lead a procession along the main street towards the temple.