Well, this is a first. Pettilaen had never been to a funeral before. Sure, he had caused a few, but never actually been to one. He'd heard that funeral attendees wore black, so he muttered a few spells and changed the color of his attire to black, and sat in the back, patiently waiting until he could drink some wine.

"First drink to the vine-sniffing mongrels that laid my boy low," Orst bellowed. "May they rot slowly for a thousand years and then start over again!" He did not just dump that wine. Pettilaen had been looking forward to some wine since he heard they found it off the fey. And now he was pouring it out! But he said nothing, out of respect for the dead.

Kanon refuses to drink to those that assaulted them, refused to accept diplomacy, and killed Orst's boy. Instead he speaks up, "They say the fey return to the feywild upon death and can return to Faerun whenever they please, so they never truly die. Rest assured, Master Orst, these were not fey... but twisted monstrosities of nature. They will remain dead and the creatures they worshipped in the forest will feast on their corpses."  

Orst claps Roe on the back.

"Get the Dead King's Gold! We drink to Rorn with the finest."

Roe's eyes go wide. "But that belongs to..."

"I said get it, boy! Leave the handling of customers to me!"

("Dead King's Gold" being an especially famous, and especially expensive, berry-mead from Dambrath in extreme southern Faerun.)

Roe does as he's told, retrieving a fine mahogany crate from underneath stacks of masonry stone. It's emblazoned with the image of a fierce dragon's head and sealed with gold leaf. He removes handfuls of packed straw before retrieving a tall, thin ceramic vessel that glitters like gold in the waning sun. From the way he handles it, you'd think it was purple worm poison...

"You think you're SO funny, don't you," the rogue sputtered as the wizard giggled. "That was pretty clever. I'll give that one to you.... But I've got a gift from the sandman for you..."

"Wha-" before the words had a chance to leave her lips, Zina's eyes rolled to the back of her head. She fell backwards with a soft thud, her vision going dark. It was probably the best single minute of sleep she had gotten in ages; no horrible dreams plagued her. If anyone had been paying close attention, they would have heard her snoring softly. Zina was beyond exhausted, so when the minute ended she somehow remained blissfully asleep. The illusionist stirred slightly a few times, but didn't wake for several hours.

The little gnome finally rose from her death-like slumber after the alcohol had been broken out. "You li'l braeg'fol," Zina said groggily, swinging at Pettilaen with her small fist. She completely misjudged the distance, and her fist missed the rogue by a good foot. The pint-sized wizard let out a groan, sitting beside her friends and attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes. "Can I have a drink too?" The normally untactful gnome had little sense of the mood of the group.

"It takes some of the best mead in Faerun to wake you, Zina." Kanon smiles and hands her a stein, "The gold seems to match your outfit."  

As the sun sets, Orst hails a column of soldiers returning to Neverwinter from Amn. He offers their captain an undisclosed (discussed in private) amount to set up camp and have his men keep watch on the group and their wagon. After some negotiation, the captain agrees.

"There," Orst says. "You're off duty for the night. Now drink with me!"

He goes around, laying down silk pillows (from another merchandise crate that he ripped open) in a circle and directing everyone to sit. Then, as an introduction to the toasting game he intends to initiate, he holds his stein against Roe's.

"May Moradin keep Rorn far from troubles and woe," he says to Roe.

Roe ponders a second before he replies. "And may there be grand-busted women where'er his soul goes!"

Then they take a long drink, Orst spilling a good bit of the golden liquid down his chest.

He moves next to Kanon next, putting his stein against Kanon's and saying, "Brave was the boy, if brash and too young..."

Pettilaen can't help his curiosity as he hears that they have Dead King's Gold with them. Remaining in his position, he uses Gaia, having her fly over so he can get a better look. There's a whole host of crates underneath that stone! And now we're getting pillows too. He looks at Orst inquisitively. Who are you, Master Orst?

Regardless, he's happy to take a drink of Dead King's Gold. He's only had a cup's worth before, and only because he pocketed some from a shipment he liberated some time ago. But it was far better than the brookebrew his family was known for making.

Kanon's mind works quickly as understanding comes to him, "But may his brave deeds forever be sung!" Kanon takes a long drink, the golden juice filling his belly and warming his soul.  

Orst smiles and winks at Kanon with approval before moving to Pettilaen.

"Was quick with a smile, well-favored by all..."

"He sung pretty songs and liked tavern brawls!" Truthfully, Pettilaen didn't have the slightest idea who Rorn was. He never could distinguish him from Roe. But he felt like those were universal good things, and probably in dwarven culture too.

He mainly said it so he could get a go at the Dead King's Gold. He took as deep of a drink as he could, relishing in the fruity flavor and strong bite which accompanied it just after.

Orst tries drinking to Pettilaen's response, but he's laughing too hard. Then the laughing makes him fart loudly, and he descends into fits of giggling and spilling Dead King's Gold all ... over ... the ... place.

Eventually he composes himself enough to move onto Zina with, "A hit with the lasses, such a handsome young man..."

"Farjin hell," the sleepy gnome cursed, just now noticing that she was bright orange. "I'm going to murder you in the morning." She glared at Pettilaen. Zina had known getting drunk with him that one night and telling him her least favorite color would come back to haunt her later. Kanon handed her a mug of something, and the little gnome drained it without question. "Come on, I'm going to need more than that to forget that I'm as orange as a bloody carrot."

The wizard eventually woke up enough to stop cursing bleary eyed, and so she sat amongst the party enjoying the fine spirits available to her. "A hit with the lasses, such a handsome young man..." Orst sang, clearly wanting her to complete the rhyming couplet.

"Beloved by all, even when into danger he ran?" Zina had a surprisingly sweet singing voice, although she lacked much confidence. She raised her golden stein, giving the dwarf a nod, and promptly drained the almost full cup. "Fill me up again, Kanon!"

He grins at Zina like a schoolboy, starts to wink, then thinks better of it and bows instead.

Moving on to Portia, "Stout, he was, and noble of bearing..."

Kanon laughed, pulling the delicate gold vessel from the crate to give lil Zina another stein-full. He then unslings his lute from the pack, and as a verse is sung he begins to play with the melody. 

"He enjoyed his drinks with boobies, and with his brother always sharing." She says it in dwarvish though some of the party won't understand, but it is for Rorn.

She drinks the goblet dry and starts laughing as it makes her burp loudly.

"Boobies!" Roe exclaims, then shakes his head back and forth, his jowls waggling like a bulldog.

Orst drains the last of his stein and descends into a fit of laughter and burping so raucous that he plops to the ground. 

"Auuuuuggggghhhh," he exclaims between cackles. "I'm empty!"

He holds his stein out toward Kanon.

"Even fine for a dwarf, and that's saying a lot..."

He calls out to Bullden from across the circle, not waiting for his stein to be filled.

[...insert Bullden's response here...]

Kanon obliges quickly, setting his lute aside momentarily, and refills his own as well. He takes a long swig and continues the melody. This is a song Kanon will remember, something that will be shared whenever he gets the chance.  

Noting the first vessel of Dead King's Gold ran out as Kanon tried to fill his stein, Orst calls out.

"Another one, Roe!"

Roe blanches, but obeys.

The rest of the night passes in song, laughter, body noises, and merriment until, one by one, each of the group falls asleep...