Christina
No shit. She thought when he commented about her joke. She tend to make a habit out of shitty situations like the one she was currently in. Though she wasn't lying about remaining drunk from this moment until her demise. "Well since I'm not a mate of yours, I'll stick to Faolan. And I think we can both agree that money is the least of our problems." It was not only true, but she also had her own coin to take care of herself. 

An idea occurred in her head as she turned to face Faolan with a smirk forming in her lips. "How about I make you a better offer. Why don't we both drink until that man.." She pointed towards one of the foulest looking older males in the tavern before continuing. "Looks hot enough to turn you into his lover." After that, she raised her drink to her lips and gave him a wink. The alcohol really was starting to affect her. "Drink up."
Cole
Faolan turned about to look towards the foul older man she had pointed towards, his visage contorting into a look of mild disgust before looking back to Taireen. "I didn't think such a level of intoxication was possible, but I guess ya never know until ya find out." The barkeep then returned with the Captain's second bottle which he gladly took into his hand and raised it to his lips to take a few gulps. He then lowered it down until it rested upon the bar top once again, his lips pursing. "Bloody foul but the buzz is nice I'll admit." Faolan spoke, sounding increasingly more intoxicated with each passing gulp of the highly concentrated alcoholic beverage, his silver eyes gazing at the liquid through the bottle as his mind wandered momentarily. "It could just be a coincidence we both had similar dreams, right? Or hallucinations whatever the fuck ya want to call it. I mean... I'm pretty sure I've heard of people having similar dreams before so it's not like it's unheard of." The captain babbled on in between gulps of akvavit.
Edith
Kirk Pinewood awoke the next morning and left a note for the still sleeping Yohan before sneaking out of the brothel.

*Dear Yohan,

Sorry for the vomit everywhere. The prostitute came back in the night. We had a disagreement. I handled it. 

Goodbye.

-Dirk Shinewald*

Kirk didn't want his real name associated with what had transpired and hoped Yohan would take this as his true name. Then again, he wasn't sure if the man could read. Yohan was a street performer, after all.

. . .

Kirk strolled down the streets of the festival looking for the house of a client. The royal antiquities dealer was in the Isles on business, and he didn't want to be distracted despite what last night may have implied. The owner of a substantial estate had died, and said owner had a substantial artifact collection. Kirk had been hired by the son and heir to sort through what was there and buy anything valuable. He eventually found the right house number and went to knock on the door. There was no answer, but he heard a grinding noise coming from the rear garden. He walked around the side of the house to investigate. There, he saw a bonfire and things that weren't logs being thrown into it by a group of hired workers. "Hey, what are you doing?" Kirk asked.

"Just dumping out some old junk." One worker said as he dumped some small wooden sculptures onto the blaze.

"Stop it!" Kirk yelled as he ran over. "I'm supposed to be sorting through this stuff."

"What's going on out here?" A portly man about Kirk's age stepped out of the house's back door. His belly moved back and forth sticking out under his shirt as he lumbered over, holding a snake around his neck.

"Hello, you must be Ludd Waller." Kirk asserted, making a confident guess. "I received a letter about going through your father's artifact collection."

"Oh yeah." Ludd nodded. "I remember that now. I got tired of waiting, so I just started throwing shit out."

"You do realize I live on the mainland in a landlocked nation, right? Not only did it take some time for the letter to reach me, I also had to plan this trip on short notice and travel here during a harvest festival. It was going to take longer than a week." Kirk explained, agitated.

"Oh well." Ludd said, shrugging. "I needed to clear out everything from the snake room."

"Are you saying you turned you father's world-renowned private gallery into a... *Snake room*?" Kirk asked, extremely tense.

"Yeah, it's way cooler now. I had some trees installed to make the room more natural. I also had some dirt sprinkled in. Way softer than that marble flooring was." Ludd was satisfied with his sense of interior design. Kirk was horrified. The snake started to move down Ludd's body, which prompted him to sling it back over his shoulder. "Whoa there, Heath. Ha ha. I named him Heath, you know the first knight in Feyshore that ran away?"

"Yes, the irony isn't lost on me, but Mr. Waller, is there anything that you still have?" Kirk asked desperately.

"I don't think so." Ludd responded, stroking the snake.

"What about the shifter skull collection?" Kirk specified.

"We thought those were just regular skulls at first. Then Sental cut his hand on one and died." The workers placed their hands over their hearts. "That loss really shook us up. I thought I wouldn't be able to finish dinner that night, but I managed." Ludd said solemnly. "And yes, we burned them." He perked up. "Did you want to see the snake room?"

"**No, I don't want to see your bloody snake room!**" Kirk exploded at Ludd.

"Hey boss, I found some dusty old longbow in a corner." A worker exited the house holding it. "Want me to throw it in."

"Give me that!" Kirk ran at the unsuspecting worker and jerked it out of his hands. "I'm not leaving this godsforsaken place empty handed..." He grumbled to himself as he walked toward the front yard.

"Hey, where do you think you're going with that?" Ludd yelled behind him.

"What?" Kirk turned back around.

"Did you think that bow was free?" Ludd asked.

"You were going to burn it." Kirk said.

"Not if you want it." Ludd retorted.

"What do you mean?" Kirk asked.

"I mean I'll sell it to you." Ludd said, a grin spreading across his face. "For the right price of course."

"You're kidding." Kirk said in disbelief.

"I'm not. And I don't think you want to be branded in the Isles as a thief." Ludd threatened.

"How much, then?" Kirk fished out his coin pouch.

"One hundred in gold." Ludd held out his hand.

"You're insane!" Kirk yelled.

"No, I'm not! That's just a myth about syphilis." Ludd shrieked defensively, forcing Kirk to shake his head at the can of worms he had just opened.

"You know, I could easily just go down to the market and buy a bow there and say it was historical." Kirk made a last-ditch effort to bring down the price.

"But will you, Mr. Pinewood?"

. . .

Kirk later sat down in a Tonate tavern to mull over his life choices as he stared at the longbow that he had placed on the chair across from him, his coin pouch significantly lighter.
Ashley
Eric took a breathe, maybe it was the wine, but he was suddenly starting to get weary. His eyes were feeling a little heavy and the room felt like it was moving subtly around him. Every motion was felt heavy and awkward. The glas was empty after a couple more swallows, and he stood up from his chair; steadying himself with the arm of the chair letting out a laugh as the room lurched and spun around him. 

"I had a little too much." Eric said, feeling the effects hit him suddenly. "I may need help back." He said, letting go of his chair and standing unsteadily on his own.
Steven
Angelica chuckled, and moved to stand with him. He lurched, and she moved to support him, letting him lean against her. 

"Noted. Stop you at glass number three next time." She told him playfully, and hooked her arm around his waist. Their room wasn't far, and the guards outside the door followed them back to it. She thanked them for opening the door and helping her get Eric inside before she set him on the edge of the bed. Moving to clean his clothes from earlier off it, she pressed her fingers into his shoulder. 

"Lay down, Stafford. Sleep it off."
Ronald
Soft steps walked down the hall, the light thumping of heels against solid wood echoing through the otherwise empty halls. Audrey Tillotson walked with an air of confidence, purpose, and... Intoxication. She was hardly over her limit, but she'd had a few glasses with the Shitblood King, and afterwards Ollie had brought her a bottle of wine as a welcome. She'd had a few glasses then, too, and now her cheeks were perpetually red with the rushing of blood caused by the liquor. Otherwise, it would be hard to tell of her condition, especially given that she didn't sway nor slur her words. The only hints would be the glazed over look in her eye or perhaps her reddish complexion, but even those were hardly something anyone would take a second look at. She wore a green dress that went to her knees made of a thick material that hugged her hips and swayed as she walked, threatening to give a glimpse of her thighs if she added much more movement to her step. The front had buttons on either side of her abdomen, along her rib cages, that seemed to keep the ensemble in place. The high neckline also hid her scar on her neck.

She'd been on her way to the library for a couple reasons. She wanted to learn more about Bradai and his rise to fame, more about her own family, and more about the Southern Isles. She knew little about what Bradai's intentions were, and so she could only hope to learn as much as she could in her current circumstances. The contents of the library were likely extensive, but as to how much they held about what she was looking for, Audrey wasn't sure. Perhaps the alcohol had clouded her logical senses just a tad. 
Her fiery hair had been bouncing lightly against her covered shoulders with each step, although it suddenly stills as her feet come to a halt upon seeing a woman step out of a room. She had yet to meet this woman in particular, but she did have enough to conclude three things: 
If this woman was in Bradai Maith's castle, she was likely important.
She struck an alarming resemblance to a woman Ollie had briefly mentioned to her and told her to play nicely with. 
She was quite the pretty face. 
Without hardly missing a beat, Audrey's face lit up. What good timing. 
"I was unaware that they kept the beautiful flowers *Inside* The estate," She said with a purr. "Is there anything I can help you with?"
Steven
Angelica had gotten Eric settled, but she wasn't interested in going to bed yet. She headed out back into the hall, and was immediately greeted by a woman she had _thought_ for a brief moment was Anyanka. She blinked, and the misinterpretation faded. Angelica gave a small, polite smile.

"I wouldn't consider myself among the foliage, but no, I was just headed back to the parlor to finish a bottle of wine before bed. Is there anything _I_ can help _you_ with?"
Ronald
Audrey tilted her head quizzically as Angelica remarked about her plant-based compliment. After a moment, a laugh bubbles quietly in her chest, and then it dribbles out of her lips, echoing musically throughout the hall. What an interesting woman - or perhaps she was just literal. Either way, Audrey was intrigued. 
"A bottle of wine? I could hardly allow a lovely person such as you to drink alone. Would you mind a bit of company?" The witch's words were soft and friendly, although there was, indeed, a flirtatious tint to her words. Audrey always had a flirtatious vibe in her conversations, but it was a little more noticeable today. "It's not every day I run into someone with the same tastes as myself."
Her hands moved to cross over her abdomen as she awaited an answer, her emerald irises trained on the woman before her. They were softer than usual, however, and appeared to be only interested in the conversation a drinking companion could offer.
Steven
Truthfully, she would have preferred the company of a friend to a stranger, but she nodded. "I don't intend to be up much longer, but sure." She closed the door behind her carefully, giving Eric the privacy of the room to himself as she started back down the hall. 
"So, does my company have a name?" The blonde asked, clasping her hands behind her back as they walked.
Ronald
Audrey's entire being seemed to give a hum of happiness as Angelica seemed to agree. Her legs seemed to follow after the woman with hardly any effort, and her hands folding together in front of her waist as she walked. At the girl's request for a name, Audrey gives a soft smile. "Rose," She said. The word left her lips easily, as if she'd used it all her life. It was her middle name, but it would have to do. She couldn't run around proclaiming herself as *Audrey Tillotson*, a woman who'd died at the hands of the Ibethian throne. "Rose Carbonnel. And does *My* Company have a name?"
Steven
They arrived back at the parlor she and Eric had been drinking in and the guards once more took their place outside the door. "Angelica Doherty of Astoria." She answered, and as they entered the room, she moved to take the seat that had previously been Eric's. Dropping down into it, she crossed one leg over her other knee and tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair.