Vox Machina were in Vasselheim seeking aid for Emon after the Chroma Conclave destroyed the city. However, all they had received was a side-quest to find magical items called “vestiges” from a sphynx. With no more going for them, of course, they went to get a drink in the closest Tavern. Who knows, maybe the gods would actually be nice for once and also send them some real help here too. Though they highly doubted it.

The tavern was bustling and noisy, but that only meant it was a good one. On a stage, a live band played, and were actually quite good. Even in Scanlan’s opinion. Behind the bar, was who they assumed was the tavern owner. They all found seats around the bar as they waited for the person to finish with the other patrons here before them.

“Does anyone else think all this is just one big nightmare come true?” Keyleth finally blurted out.

“I think everyone is thinking that,” Percy sighed. “We aren’t exactly qualified to kill four dragons.”

“But we have to,” Vax said firmly. “No one else can.”

“Besides, we already killed Brimscythe. So we know we can kill a dragon,” Vex backed her brother up.

“Oh c’mon, that was sheer dumb luck, and we know it,” Scanlan said.

“Luck or not, lives are at stake. We can’t turn a blind eye now,” Pike said.

“Uh, did we come here to drink or mope? ‘Cause I came here to fuckin drink!” Grog exclaimed as he slammed his hand on the table. “Bar Person! Can we get some ale over ‘ere?”