Matthial accepted the flagon and took a long pull. It wasn't immediate, but it soon became obvious that this was a mistake. The face puckered up as the man bit at his lip and looked at Ronan out of the corner of his eye. "What was this called again?" The traveller decided on 'Grass poison' as he tried to keep it down. It was... potent. He waited a long moment before he took another drink underneath the hawker's tent. The second pull was much the same as the first. It direct contrast with natural laws, this drink kicked just as hard regardless of how much liquid was consumed. Raising his drink he did his best to laugh with Ronan. Then he paused. His 'warwound' suddenly sparking up bringing a wince to the man's face. "Hey, thanks for what you did. Coulda' walked on, but you didn't. I'm in your debt. You ever need something you just ask." An otherwise serious moment was ruined as the owner burst out into laughter at the traveler's next face as he took a drink. |