By the time Roen took the bottle back, she found herself grinning for no reason.
After her third swallow from the bottle (which had themselves been preceded by tentative sips), she vaguely recalled something that Mistress Momodi had said about a flower in the liquor. Her memories all seemed fuzzy, though, and the room seemed to sway a little...
It is as if someone just spun me around and then made me sit abruptly, she thought, vaguely amused.
But she could not for the life of her recall the name of the flower. Was it... trillian? No, trolo...? No. Wait! Trillium! Roen snapped her fingers in imaginary triumph. Trillium! That was the flower that masqued the burn of the liquor.
‘The tongue will lie to you, but your nose won’t,’ the Lalafellin proprietor had warned her with a mischievous wink. The paladin had not paid much mind to it when she accepted the bottle, as she had no intention of drinking from it at all. The drink was all for Daegsatz’s benefit.
Perhaps she should have paid some attention. Roen took another gulp of the drink and then handed the bottle back to the Sea Wolf.
“Mister Tragg…Traggblas...†Roen's tongue felt oddly thick, and much clumsier than before. She started again. “May I just call you Mister Daegsatz? Or Mister Daegz, perhaps. Or…"
She squinted. "Your captain calls you Satz, aye? That..." she paused for dramatic effect, "...is a lovely name.†She waved her hand into the air vaguely as she repeated his name in many different ways. “Soldier Dance. I like that one the best.â€
After her third swallow from the bottle (which had themselves been preceded by tentative sips), she vaguely recalled something that Mistress Momodi had said about a flower in the liquor. Her memories all seemed fuzzy, though, and the room seemed to sway a little...
It is as if someone just spun me around and then made me sit abruptly, she thought, vaguely amused.
But she could not for the life of her recall the name of the flower. Was it... trillian? No, trolo...? No. Wait! Trillium! Roen snapped her fingers in imaginary triumph. Trillium! That was the flower that masqued the burn of the liquor.
‘The tongue will lie to you, but your nose won’t,’ the Lalafellin proprietor had warned her with a mischievous wink. The paladin had not paid much mind to it when she accepted the bottle, as she had no intention of drinking from it at all. The drink was all for Daegsatz’s benefit.
Perhaps she should have paid some attention. Roen took another gulp of the drink and then handed the bottle back to the Sea Wolf.
“Mister Tragg…Traggblas...†Roen's tongue felt oddly thick, and much clumsier than before. She started again. “May I just call you Mister Daegsatz? Or Mister Daegz, perhaps. Or…"
She squinted. "Your captain calls you Satz, aye? That..." she paused for dramatic effect, "...is a lovely name.†She waved her hand into the air vaguely as she repeated his name in many different ways. “Soldier Dance. I like that one the best.â€
