It had been a hard day to say the absolute very least. Everything seemed to be going to hell after the death of Thjazi Fang. The city was falling apart under the boot of the higher ups. Everything was getting worse. How does one fix that?

The answer was alcohol. Well, for most people.

The Schemers group sat together at the bar, some choosing ale, wine, or something stronger to drink and distract themselves. All of them except Bolaire, who remained prim as ever, sitting by the bar with those he'd come to call friends.

He didn't drink, he wasn't even sure he could get drunk. But some part of him didn't want to be away from his friends in this moment.