As they sat, Fin ran across to the bar and whispered hurriedly with one of the waiters. He soon returned and after a couple of minutes nodded at the waiter who was stood, waiting for the signal. The man, moved quickly, producing a large tray from behind the bar with an endless amount of whisky shots. He put the tray down on the table and Fin thanked him, slipping him a few gold coins.
The elf lord quickly placed the shot glasses in four rows in front of him, Thoriel, Sophia and Alatariel. "Now we can really drink," he exclaimed, "on three, two, one."
The four of them downed shot after shot. Fin noticed, as he quickly gulped down the strong dwarvish whisky, that Alatariel was quickly fading. "Of dear," he thought and slammed down the final glass.
"Yes!" he cried, before recovering his dignity. Sophia and Thoriel finshed mere seconds later and Fin, declared it a draw. Alatariel finished a few seconda after, her eyes now very glazed.
"Um," Fin said, "Perhaps we should give the drink a rest Alatariel."
"mmmm," came the reply.
Fin quickly rose and managed to get a glass of water from the bar. He returned and Alatariel slowly swallowed it down.
"What next?" Fin asked Thoriel and Sophia, as he propped his drunken escort up.
[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]
|