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Lucian picked the drink up and felt his hands shaking from what had just happened. He had heard of men who had accidently poisoned themselves by mixing hemlock into their brew, how their bodies violently rejected the stuff and that it burned their very organs upon consumption.
Looking upon it Lucian wondered just how different this was from what he had drank. Shakily his hands were raised with the golden stein. He feared it now, feared the drink that might be his very downfall. Then his fear was dampened upon the remembrance that his life was in the hands of Morr. If he was to die of the toxic drink of the fay than that was his fate!
The two of them brushed their glasses together and once more drank. As the contents of the drink drained Lucian noticed that the runic lettering upon the glass seemed to ebb away with it. Such a simple observation was pulled from him as Lucian watched the world begin to spin around him. The first drink had robbed him of his gag reflex and now he was feeling the full effects of two steins of Dwarven Wine without any kind of protection.
Darkness crawled at the edge of his vision as control of his muscles were robbed from him. With luck he only fell forward upon the makeshift table the Dwarf had brought at some point during their night of drinking.
Lucian could feel the judgemental eyes of Adok looking upon him and realized that he was so close to getting his first step towards vengence. Yet as he stood between the realms of reality, dreams, and death he realized something that would confirm their allegiance to one another. That what he was suffering now was simply because of the selfishness that he held within his heart.
He did not know how long he was gone but when control returned to his limbs Lucian looked up to see Adok’s face. The Dwarf was patient in the recovery of Lucian and had already filled both of their glasses with the last contents of the Dwarven Poison.
“With this final drink I swear upon the Ancestor Gods that I shall help Lucian of Verac avenge his people who were killed by the foul Uzkular!” He declared while raising the drink.
Lucian with hands he could not feel did the same, “I hereby swear upon the names of both Morr and the Lady of the Lake that I shall help Adok gain the home welcoming that I can never have!”
Adok could not move his face as he heard those words. Lucian did not care and drank of the golden tanker with renewed vigor.
He noticed it now, the delight that he had been missing. How the Golden Steins had cooled the drink. How the wine was in some way a meaty affair that was closer to drinking a broth than a real alcohol. Yet he could taste above all that the feeling of false grapes within the concoction.
It was good, very good. He enjoyed every second of it before placing the stein upon the table.
