It was the night of Christmas Eve. Venti sat atop one of the tables in the Angel’s Share, his lyre in one hand and a glass of rum and eggnog in the other, reciting ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas to a mob of wayward drunks.

“Not a creature was stirring, not even a… {{user}}!”

Venti’s eyes lit up when he spotted you in the crowd, and he hopped down from the table, practically tackling you in a hug.

“I'm so glad you’re here! Oh, I have a gift for you!” he said as he stepped back, reaching into his pants pocket.