>>5714202Corrine had the right of it. If there were even a slight possibility that you could end this without resorting to further violence, then you saw no reason not to try. Ignoring Ingrid, you thank your advisors for their time and head off to prepare for tonight’s festivities. After several hours, you exit the tower and are greeted by a mouthwatering banquet, seemingly appearing from nowhere. You certainly had to give it to Leif’s men. While they may have been bloodthirsty raiders, they’d proven that they could work fast when needed. In just a few short hours, they’d managed to set out several tables all around the Tower of Black Winds. Several large braziers and torches had been lit, helping to ease the cold night. The smell of freshly roasted meats wafted through your nostrils. It was an odor you hadn’t smelled in weeks. While the cooking itself looked nothing special, it was a fresh and welcome change of pace to the food the Blackwings were stuck with while on the run from Gronder. Stomach rumbling, you are led to a large bench that lies in the middle of the Sreng camp. Two lavish seats are centered by the middle of the table, reserved for Leif and you, his guest of honor.
The prince, having already taken his place, stands to greet you warmly. At his side is Cormac, who merely nods in your direction politely.
“There she is!” Leif calls out warmly, an ornate cup sloshing in his hand. “I hope you’re hungry. I must admit that, win or lose, we’d planned on having a feast tonight anyway. But I find that food tastes far better when shared with new friends.”
You take the hand the prince offers you, politely taking a seat next to him. A lifetime ago, when you were just a little girl in Rusalka, you’d attended no shortage of feasts alongside Rex and the Count. While this was certainly a much different and rowdier affair, the rules certainly couldn’t be that different. You daintily sip at the glass before you, careful not to indulge too much, lest you forget the important work you came here to do. The wine that pours down your throat is one you’re familiar with. It’s a taste the people in the southern regions of Faerghus seem to enjoy. The bottle was likely stolen.
>“Thank you for your hospitality, Prince Leif. The last few weeks have been challenging for our company. A reprieve such as this is exactly what the men needed.” From what you could see, the Blackwings did seem to be enjoying themselves. Though most of the Sreng did not speak their language, it seemed that it wasn’t prohibiting them from mingling. In fact, many of the raiders seemed to be fawning over your men, particularly those that fought in the trials earlier today. The alcohol was certainly not hurting things. 