The cool, damp air of a cave has a *wonderful* sobering effect- It doesn't matter how much you've drunk or how high-level you are; Something *primal* recoils at the darkness, the sounds in the deep, the sheer...Well, *otherness* of the awaiting dungeon...Which is why most adventuring parties tend to 'bottle out' as soon as they get some sense into them...<br/><br/>Unless, of course, you're really, really, sloshed.<br/><br/>The jingling<em>clank</em>of armor echoed loudly, in time to the heavy trod of a knight's footsteps; From the shadows cast by the flickering light, it would've seemed that some burly, grunting swordsman was ready to plunge headlong into dread and danger...Except for the much, much more pleasant sight of paired beauties, talking a little too loudly, weapons and gear held a little too loosely...Apparently easy prey for anything willing to risk a moderate amount of danger...<br/><br/>Look *more* closely. If you do, you'll see that the blonde valkyrie chatting amiably with her friend- The one just the slightest bit unsteady on her feet, golden hair a glorious curtain over her sleek shoulders- wears the emblem of a Justicar of the Order...A rank held by very, very few Knights of the Radiant Heart. Or that the sword strapped to her slim hip- Yes, the one that looks too ornate to be more than a toy- is, in fact, the Lightning Bolt...The blade of Grand Master Mandulis, bless his soul, long-dead in a far-ago war...A relic that still sizzles with the lightning of his creation.<br/><br/>And then you'd think that, just maybe, it's going to be a *lonnnggggg* night...<br/><br/>-----------------------------<br/><br/>"Well, *here* we are," Lady Gwyneth van Edefelt giggled- *Really* giggled, a tipsy smile etched on her face; Her hips rolling, in a sensual stride oh-so-different from her usual military cadence, the lady knight peered at the dungeon entrance with exaggerated care...She'd been *sure* it was *wayyyy* over to the left...<br/><br/>But oh, well. She vaguely remembered leaving the bar, and then...And then...Wait, the symbol of Helm! Right! Even in her entirely inebirated state, the paladiness *knew* that sounded-<em>important</em>. They'd been talking to those farmboys, who'd insisted on pressing drink after drink on them- Yokels. *Cute* yokels, but yokels neverthless...Dimly, the swordswoman wondered if they *really* should have stayed- But this was so much more exciting!<br/><br/>Her blue eyes bright with mischief, Gwyneth brought a finger to her full lips, shushing her friend; "We wouldn't want t-to...Wase...Wake 'em," she whispered, oh-so-dramatically...Thinking, in a less-than-reverent mindset, 'Evil never sleeps, right? So, does *Good*...?"<br/><br/>"What do you think?" the Lady murmured, sotto voice; Tall, looking slightly tousled by drink, her full chest rising and falling in deep, heaving breaths against her red-and-blue surplice, her long, pale legs moving restlessly beneath her brief skirt, Gwyneth was clearly the worse for drink...While her system was doing its level best to cleanse the alcohol, it'd be a while before she was back to her usually aloof self!