“Oh I do like me games, little lady,” Bofvar looked Cass up and down shrewdly. He was fairly confident he could beat her in almost anything she could come up with. Never one to turn down a challenge, he weighed the thought only momentarily before he made up his mind. Drinking was a favorite past time of his after all, combined with the company of such a specimen, he could think of no better way to burn the time. The added incentive of doing anything he wanted, it was just too rich.
“Ah, you got yourself a deal! Just don’t cram too many drinks down that lovely gullet, wouldn’t want your mouth getting tired before I claim my prize,” He proudly boasted before calling for a nearby barmaid. Bofvar paid only passing attention to the ongoings of Varian and his newfound company. Newfound, wealthy company that is. It mattered very little to him at what Varian got him mixed up in. Especially at the price he overheard. Bofvar would do all sorts of rebel rousing for seventy silver, he always aimed to misbehave after all.
Why with that kind of coin, he could drink himself into a drunken stupor for a blissfully long time. Or maybe even do something productive. He quickly dismissed that particular idea before he could even invest much time in its fulfillment.
“What will you be having, sir?” The maid approached and asked him with an almost disgustingly sweet tone. The young girl was obviously compensating for the revulsion she had for the Dwarf. Her tone may have been friendly and cheery, but her ghastly looks toward the Dwarf said it all. She cared little for him and his ilk, or maybe just him in general. It hardly bothered him, however. In fact, it only made her all the more charming, especially since she was obligated to wait on him.
“Not me.” He pointed at Cass with a devious smile. “That fine example of bad childrearing will have a dose of Ethorian Liquor, an easy start to our little game.” He winked across the table at her, the maid quietly shuffling off to procure the drink. “Unless of course, you want to try something a little stronger?” Bofvar flexed his arms and laughed uproariously.
"Hey if you want to lose, I'll take these baby drinks all night," Cass laughed, as she snatched the drink from the barmaid and gulped down. In a very lady-like fashion belched with satisfaction, before giggling at her own accomplishment. It was a new record for downing that, but she was sure to regret that later. "Here take this empty glass and fetch him some..." Cass paused. It was too early for that one drink, but was it too soon for that one? Oh what was she kidding. It was a Dwarf. He could hold it for a while before crashing to the ground like a sack of bricks. "Fetch this bearded beauty a Lion's Roar. It's a good ale from Idir. This dump ought to have it."
"Right away," the maid said, growing nervous as Cass glared at her.
"This one will hit ya pretty hard. Hope you can take it~."
Bofvar let a belly laugh rumble throughout the establishment. He found the girl and her fire to be both amusing and alluring. “My dear, I can take anything you throw my way and I do mean anything.” Bofvar waited impatiently for the maid to return, his fingers strumming on the thick wooden table. “So, are you looking forward to our evening together?” He spoke up as if his victory was assured, licking his lips to wet them from the day spent in the sun. “I bet you’re just dying to know what I have in store for you, but I’ll let that be a secret for another time,” he finished and stood up as the liquor girl approached with the witch’s brew.
“Thank ye lass!” He reached out and took the drink before the maid could even say a word. “Why don’t you go ahead and fetch one for my companion too. Misery loves company after all, and it would only be fair.” Turning, he held the fierce drink to his nose and took a stiff whiff of the concoction. “Whew! Enough to curdle the goat’s cheese!” He laughingly proclaimed. “My dear,” His attention returned back to Cass once again. “This one is for you, prepare to suffer defeat, or enjoy it, entirely up to you.” Winking at her once more, he brought the drink to his mouth and chugged it in its entirety before his smarts told him otherwise. It wasn’t called the Lion’s Roar for nothing. Bofvar swallowed and slammed the stein on the table as he struggled to stand through the burn. He coughed a few times and beat his fist against his chest triumphantly, if a bit weakly.
“Haha, like the swift kick of a jackass to the stones, that is!”
"Haha. That it is!" Cass said, before letting out a nervous laugh. Truthfully, she was hoping that would take Bofvar would lose his confidence, fall flat on his beard and that would be the end of it, but somehow the Dwarf stayed strong. Their legendary constitution lived up to the myth after all. The barmaid came with another Lion's Roar, one of the two drinks in all of Aerion that made Cass succumb to the allure of unconsciousness following a heavy night of drinking. The other was some drink from Vanaheim. She dare not utter its name.
"Bottoms up!" Cass yelled, hoping feigned confidence would push her through the pain. Cass took the drink down in one sitting, the alcohol rushing right through her. The room began to spin, her face matching the flushed red of her hair and her head throbbing. "Not a problem at all! Hey barmaid...get my friend a uhh...I don't feel so good...." her voice broke out in a moan, before expunging the majority of the last drink onto the floor. "Andal damn it!" She screamed, flipping the table over. "You win this one Dwarf! Varian pay the barkeep! Or not! I don't care!" Cass roared at her longtime friend, before smiling at the winner of the game. "So Bofvar, honey. What am I doing for you on this fine evening?~" Cass said with a not so subtle wink.
Bofvar only grinned and twirled his beard, his mind racing deep in thought. He himself had not been feeling normal since his bout with the Lion’s Roar. Liquor normally posed no problem for him and it still didn’t, but he would be remiss in not stating that he was a bit woozy. But, he wrestled the lion and won, that was all that mattered. Without a doubt, he knew he would win. How could a small female human best a Dwarf in drinking? The thought was preposterous.
The question remained, however. What would he have her do? Oh, he could fathom all sorts of activities that they could take part in. More than a few involved her putting that pretty mouth to work at something else besides yapping. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to suggest the things that came to mind. Maybe it was the drink talking in his head, but he could not do such a thing, and in such a way, with one of his group members. Maybe if things had unfolded in a more natural course, but as conquest of a game? That would make Cass no better than the corner w***e. Maybe she wasn’t, but it nagged at him nonetheless. Cursing himself and his honor, he finally coughed and spoke up.
“I tell you what you can do for me,” he whispered across the table in her direction. “Go get a room, lay in the bed and go to sleep. There is coin to be had and I’d rather not be fighting next to somebody who is already halfway dead,” he joked. “Let’s just say you owe me one, we can have our fun another time.” Casting her one last wink, although this one felt forced unlike the others, he turned his attention away from the woman and the hounding of his libido, back to Ava who had been mulling over a name for the group.
“Ava, my dear. Although you may look like a descendant of heaven and a walker of winds, do I myself look like such a creature?” He beamed one of his famous Bofvar smiles at her and wondered if his praise of her beauty won him any favor. “But alas, the name is good as any and you women folk are better to name things than I. I say call us anything but poor and I’m fine with it.”