Walking together, The Silver Blades traveled from the long hall to the great hall.

Odordious spoke coldly. as he walked waving his sparkly knife around as they went .“He doesn’t get to keep it! He isn’t one of us. He is a Valdrath dog.” 

“Ye think me just another oh the Emperor’s muts aye? Why don’t ye come take it from me then?” Chalco responds, examining the silver knife’s edge with the thumb of his flesh hand and glancing a toothy grin at the Myrmish.

“Ladies, ladies, calm down. You’re both pretty,” Kal’Saera interjected, stepping between the two and spreading her wings. “We don’t need you two fighting during the feast; we should be celebrating.” 

The group came to the doorway of the great hall. They found the chamber sectioned into four spaces; the stonemasons had dug the wings a span into the ground. The middle was hardly touched, cut smooth, and covered with cobblestones. Across from them, the head of the chamber raised a man’s height above the rest. Six-person tables filled the center, a pair of long straight benches filled each wing, and a high table for ten crowned the elevated platform. The whole room could provide individualized table service for a thousand noble guests and simpler buffets for their retinues. 

They found a decent spot where they could slide in Valasta's additional chair. Liquor found its way into their cups in no time after that.

Chalco placed a full mug of ale with a gold coin at its bottom aside. The cup was left untouched, reserved for boasting, he explained. However, he held no reservations for other drinks before him and quickly demonstrated his unique proclivity.

 It took less than an hour for Velwrith to lose track of his drinks. He didn’t care, simply following the rhythm of his impulse. He noted Chalco had easily matched the rest of the table’s combined consumption and was still easily keeping pace.

The Wildling told a story from his past in Filmest, when Valasta questioned the tale's validity.

 Chalco roared his retort.“Aye, that’s exactly how it happened. I swear the only part to be doubted is that he put the dynamite in the goblin's arse. I watched the explosion myself from a good mile of. Musta been some gasses under there because the whole damn mountain lurched a good two feet in the air.”

“How fascinating; I am impressed, good sir.” Valasta chuckled over his salad. Betsy had mysteriously found her way off his head and onto Kal’Saeria’s.

 “I don’t believe for a second you fought off sixty goblins, even with dwarf weapons. You’d get overrun in a second without some trickery.” the woman said, waving a drumstick menacingly.

“I do…”Velwrith said, feeling the rivet-shaped mark on his ribs where a dented armor plate had broken the skin two months earlier. “If he had that many firearms, he could probably have killed twice as many if he’d wanted.”

“Perhaps if the gun wright forged the bullets from something pharos dear, but given that they usually aren’t, he probably misses quite a lot.” the hat retorted.

“Aye, I miss plenty. But my aim is true often enough. I swear on the name of Gale’Kara himself. I fought off sixty goblins and killed at least half of’m b’fore the rest went’n ran off.” The wildling dhampir took a long drink from one of many mugs before him, then spat the gold coin into his steel hand.

He held out the coin for her to see before setting it into another mug of ale. That mug, in turn, was aside for his subsequent boasts. “My words were blessed by The Forgefather himself, I’da choked if I was lyin.”

The dragonkind woman accepted her loss, turning to their resident Teklem. “So, Emmeriss, tell us all about this mess we’re supposed to be stopping? I’m not from around these parts and find myself lacking context.” 

Emmeriss took a drink himself before speaking with wild hushed tones. “Well, they say a bit over a hundred years ago now, a lovely Teklem girl, Shelara, got lost in the hills."

The bard looked into his cup for a long moment. "The Valdrath found her, took her as a well... a bed slave, twisted her mind with their cruel deceptions, and well... caused her to die in childbirth sometime after."

The table was silent, except for the drumming of nervous fingers.  But the ranger went on. "They keep her remains and her child to this day, denying both proper places with their family. The chieftains demanded reparations for her village, and Tok’Edvard of Cavernsmaw ignored them."

With a swig and a shrug, he finished the story. "The rumor is that a raiding party entered our forest the day she passed and was repelled. Everything was reasonably straightforward from then on. The Valdrath were marked for death within the wood, and that was that.“

“Dreadful, absolutely dreadful. “ Valasta said, staring into space and stabbing his lettuce repeatedly. “The Grey Emperor is quite the brute to allow such things; it surprises me that he’s even one of the seven.”

“Well, is Balcause any better? He’s not just some big spooky skeleton, after all. He is called The Dark One and The King of Corpses for a reason.” the Dragonkind woman snapped in response, appearing insulted that the wizard would voice such heresy.

Valasta chuckled. “I highly doubt it. That’s why I’m a wizard and not a priest. Just because I’m from the deadlands of Bathaladon doesn’t mean I follow their faith. My mother was Aldrem, after all. I honestly can’t understand what drives such devotion to the will of another, such zeal for beings that don’t even care if you exist.”

The woman beamed daggers at him from across the table. “But how can you say that, if the gods don’t care for mortals, how do you explain miracles?”

The wizard grinned, but his face flushed pink. “The same way I would explain my spells. In my opinion, they are two schools of the same practice, two methods for altering the flows of arcana. You filter the power through a spiritual mechanism. I use a mathematical formula. Have you studied any advanced magical theory?”

The Dragonkind smirked back, notably redder than when they had started.“I have, actually, but that’s why I wonder how could such a spiritual filter even exist if they weren’t being directed and governed by the divines?.”

Still grinning, Valasta acquiesced. “While you make a good point, I don’t understand the concept well enough to explain it, but I can recommend a study conducted around the oracle cults and their mystical capabilities.”

“Dears, you are both quite drunk and quite wrong. Divine domains exist for many things not governed by gods, and that study lacked objectivity or control. It is a mystery how these things are created or destroyed.”  The hat interjected silently.

Velwrith couldn’t tell who was redder after the hat spoke, the wizard or the Dragoness.

The night went on similarly for several more hours, but the conversation avoided anything contentious.

After the feast was concluded, they intended to retreat to their beds and rest. Velwrith became lost, stumbled about for another hour, and vomited in an unknown hall before eventually falling asleep in the garden.