Dockside Drinks N3
He listened to Christopher speak of Shadowdale and of gratitude. His lips often touching silver as he regularly took sips from his goblet. An errant droplet of wine racing along his lower lip. A minute detail that looked precarious over the fine clothing Nemean wore. Only to be, all but carelessly polished away by a simple flick of his tongue. Warmth permeated his system as the crimson liquid made its home deeper down, in his belly. A feeling of comfort settled over him. The companions around provided ample safety. Not the kind that defended against steel perhaps but against social pitfalls and that ring of trust that comes with valuing people.
He made an effort to look sincere and pushed past the grin that lurked just below the surface. ''You are among friends now Christoph.'' He gestured his goblet at the man. ''Drink and leave worries for a night.'' Kenneth's confirmatory words on Swords and friendship nicely framed his own he felt. Nemean's emerald gaze touched upon Kenneth's and he inclined his head in agreement.
The spell was broken as the bald, man giant Rogos grabbed him by the shoulder and made him feel weak. He grinned ruefully as he took the praise and mockery. ''All I had to do so far is sit in the capital with you lot. A terrible duty!'' And he took a big gulp of wine. Noting that he'd soon need a refill. Rogos was again the better man and soon he had the barkeep bring two more goblets, one for Christopher and the other for Kenneth. Not wanting to let a good opportunity go to waste Nemean asked for a carafe, they were gonna need it.
Turning back to his companions he discovered yet more praise coming from Rogos. It made him beam but also uncomfortable. He raised his drink and toasted to Rogos's words. ''Words and Blood my friend. Let's just enjoy wine and drink tonight. Words and Blood tomorrow!''
With that he drank deeply and placed a hand on Rogo's biceps. Squeezing it for a moment, noting that the man could probably crush baby skulls at will.
