6.51 - Can We Go To Bed?
Theo had never seen such a large array of kegs, casks, and bottles in his life. Someone—likely Alise—had imported enough booze to burn the town to the ground. Not that the drinks themselves would destroy the town, but the temperment of half-ogres after consuming them. He watched as Tresk danced to the music coming from a wooden stage, sipping on sweet mead and taking in the sights. The poor marshling still couldn’t dance, but she certainly tried her best.
“What’s wrong with your goose?” Fenian asked. He had his feet kicked up, head lolling back as he watched the festivities with a dizzy expression.
“She wants to be a dragon,” Theo said with a shrug. “Who am I to stop her?”
“You’re so coy. The locals might not catch on, but I know a familiar doesn’t spontaneously evolve.”
“I like how you call me coy while being coy,” Theo said, taking another sip. “Interesting.”
“Bah. You’re so hard to deal with. Where did she get the dragon’s bones and can I have some?”
Theo smiled to himself. Fenian always pretended as though he was clueless. But the man had a handle on almost everything. The alchemist would only be surprised if he didn’t know something. “Tell me why you want them. My intuition says you want to inspect the item to learn the dragon’s name.”
“I like the stupid version of you better.”
“Why would you care about the dragon’s name?”