I look for the path to Subjectively true drunkeness and follow it.
Despite feeling like your head is slowly being crushed between two tree trunks, you realise that the best mode of progression for drunkenness is forwards. You go through one of the unexplored doors in the hillside, because its not like anything else was gonna happen.
The space you arrive in is very dark and quiet. The walls, tables and bar are wood and bamboo, while several woven mats are scattered around. Everything is very simply done, and the few lamps illuminating the place seem to be there just to cast shadow.
Near-silent figures are seated around the central bar and at various tables around the room. Each one is wrapped in black cloth, often covering the head and face. Many carry parcels discreetly strapped to various body parts, and you can make out more than a few scabbards of wildly varying length. Nobody seems to be playing, but there are a couple of shruikens embedded in the dart board nearby.
To the bar!
"Lavish unto me your nourishment, strange foreigners!"
Indicate that I need a drink.
You enunciate each word clearly and slowly, so the Johhny Foreigner can comprehend your request. The vibrantly tattoed chitinous lady at the bar doesn't say anything, but hands you a rounded beaker of green liquid with a transparent eyeless fish several centimetres in length swimming about in it. You interpret the way she's squinting at you as a fierce yet agreeable mark of respect among savages.
Ice crystals are starting to form in the neck of the beaker. For the first time, you notice that there is a large window set in the middle of the floor, also showing a starry sky. Your somewhat pickled brain is having trouble working out where the ground is.
Poke holes in the remaining barrels with the liberated horn, and bask in the beerflow.
[6]
You stab everything within a dozen metres, including the earth, and bask in the rich liquids that cascade out of the stab wounds. Ice-cold scotch and warm, thick
blood scotch. Delicious.
(Inebriation +1)
Exist.
Get umbrella.
Certainly. Your hangover is slightly more non-euclidean than everyone else's, but I'm sure you can imagine what being beaten about the head with a four-dimensional hammer feels like.
"Now then, back to my favorite thing. Gambling!"
Check to see of there are any new bets.
You wander over the the wire cage, and gaze through at the new pair of combatants. The two previous gladiators have been replaced by a guy with a pair of bloodied shotels and an individual of indeterminate gender with the size and pugnacity of a teenage hippo. Bets over the outcome are still being placed.
A women in black jeans with a buzz-cut and skull tattoos wanders over to you. She has nearly a dozen knives strapped to various limbs.
"So you a new fighter? Pretty odd looking, even for here, if you don't mind me saying so."
Sniff for the emporer, and charge in the direction of his smell. If I correctly find him, then KILL HIM, yelling"NOONE MESSES WITH ME AND GETS AWAY WITH IT YOU SON OF A BITCH!!"
[4-1]
You lift your princely nose in the air, head throbbing from dehydration, and try to follow the smell of your enemy. Almost at once, you pick up a scent that is probably definitely the emperor, stagger after it, and worm your way past a door.
Once you go through the portal, you lose the scent completely, as frying food, beer and burning firewood assail your sensitive nose. The tavern you've wandered into is devoid of emperors, but does contain a great deal of humans in rough and varied medieaval-ish garb, a surprising number in suits of metal armour resembling onions. Most people here seem to be drunk, and your sudden appearance from thin air prompts a round of toasts, "to Catarina!"
The humans here are jovial, drinking liberally from barrels labelled, "Siegbrau", though there are no other cats to contest your dominance. This place seems pretty hospitable.
Prometheus the Destroyer Inebriation: 2
Sodden pages
Wood chips
Mammal endoskeleton chunks
Mammal fibres
Mammal horn
Shelly Ton
8 red casino chips
Name:Jerry the Puuuur-fect HUNGOVER
Zhao Zheng Inebriation:2
Umbrella
Erotic Novel
Norse Drinking Horn
Suspiscious foreign muck (green fish-based iced cocktail)
Alexander Kovacof Inebriation:1
Erotic novel
Flagon of scotch
Waoao Flobibble HUNGOVER
Umbrella