“To our fallen comrades!” Someone called out while holding their mug up towards the sky.
“To our fallen comrades!” Others repeated, also raising their mugs before taking a drink.
Among the diverse patrons within the tavern, there were different tolerances when it came to alcohol consumption, so some took small sips while others took large gulps. Then, there were the few chugging their ales as if they were having a drinking contest, but honestly, they were drowning their frustrations. One in particular slammed her mug down after emptying it, and after trying her best, yet failing to contain a belch, the Second Captain of the Slayers, Rubia Demkil, called out to the barkeeper.
“Another!”
“So…” Zeke Waldhart, the Head Captain of the Slayers, sat right beside her. “How many are you planning to drink tonight?”
“It depends on when I’m done!” Rubia answered, clearly in a bad mood, while impatiently waiting for her mug to be refilled.