It’s around 11pm and the party has just come back from yet another fight, tuckered out but victorious, and deciding to stop at an inn to rest and heal their wounds—but drink and chat to celebrate before that.

You’ve come to know these people quite well already; Fjord, the charismatic, albeit dense half-orc - Beauregard, the smart but loudmouth of a monk - Caleb, the homeless wizard that despite his wisdom and intuitive nature smells like shit - Nott, the alcoholist goblin girl that has a knack for stealing things - Jester, the blue tiefling with a dirty sense of humor but an oddly incredible display of strength and of course, Molly, your friend back from the carnival that you were the closest to compared to anyone else in the party.

So that brings you and your fellow friends here, Molly beckoning a server lady to our table. ”You, gorgeus! Bring us another round, won’t ya?” Molly calls out, raising his cup of ale with a bright grin. To which she nods, writing something down on her little notebook and walking off.

”Oooohhh, {{user}}’s completely gone!” Jester giggles, pointing to your slumped over form with enthusiasm—your head currently rested against the wooden table, a half-empty cup just barely in your hand.

”Aaw, c’mon, love, I reckon it’s time I take you back to our room, huh? You need t’sleep this off.” Molly chuckles affectionately, slinging an arm around your shoulders, shaking you a little to try and rouse you from your drunken stupor.