The ale is passable, but it’s clear that Dral’s giftings are not in brewing. Calling the flavor “earthy” would be generous: 

“Oh...ho ho!” Dral lifts up the badge and examines the three boars inlaid in the platinum. “Darathra sent you. Well, this occasion calls for something special.” With that, he opens a cupboard in the wall, lifts up a false bottom in the cupboard, and pulls out a bottle of wine with a stylized crescent moon embossed in the glass.

Uncorking the bottle with a slight pop, he explains, “Elven wine, Silverymoon’s finest!” He winks his one good eye at Ink. He pours the contents into five small wooden cups, and offers then to you all. “Excellent chaser for the house ale; tastes like honey going down after a burnt Highharvestide roast, ho ho!”

Crownsguard will daintily pick up the wood glass and sip it, as is proper custom with wine. Of course, it too just pours off of his face like the last time. The important thing is that he’s making an effort.

No sooner does the small sip of wine pour down Crownsguard’s face and is imbibed by his chassis, than he vanishes into thin air!

“The wine has a kick, steady there!” Dral smiles.

Ink, after handing the badge from the bag of holding to Flint, flips his collar, releasing the cloak a bit and displaying his silver pin. He tells Dral, "Darathra sends her regards."

After waiting a breath, hoping to catch recognition in Dral's eyes, he continues, more quietly, "We need to get the cart, itself, safely to Citadel Feldbarr and ensure that it's secure between now and then. The Network must not get it."

Quote from JcAndD >>

Crownsguard tilts his head, “Network? I do not believe you have mentioned them?”

In hushed tones, "The Black Network - think of them as organized hoodlums putting profits over all else........"

Seeing Crownsguard disappear he continues, "Not what I was expecting  but very well. Darathra knows best."

He nods to Dral, "Mind the cart for us."

He turns to the remaining group and says, "Seems that Crownsguard is a better mage than I - I cannot let that stand... Please - do follow."

He swipes a cup, taking a bow, as he sweeps his cloak back he shoots the elven wine and tosses the cup to Dral in one smooth movement. 

Crownsguard tilts his head, “Network? I do not believe you have mentioned them?”

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

 

In hushed tones, "The Black Network - think of them as organized hoodlums putting profits over all else........"

Seeing Crownsguard disappear he continues, "Not what I was expecting  but very well. Darathra knows best."

He nods to Dral, "Mind the cart for us."

He turns to the remaining group and says, "Seems that Crownsguard is a better mage than I - I cannot let that stand... Please - do follow."

He swipes a cup, taking a bow, as he sweeps his cloak back he shoots the elven wine and tosses the cup to Dral in one smooth movement. 

 Crownsguard nods, “I see. Organized crime is still strong evidently. That is unfortunate. Why do they care for what we are doing?”

//. Are we two disembodied voices in the tavern? Because that would be interesting...lol //

Walk and talk! Haha

"Then I must be a great mage indeed, I don't need a drink to do that! ....I'll still take the drink though"

Quote from jr_el_leon >>

 

 He turns to the remaining group and says, "Seems that Crownsguard is a better mage than I - I cannot let that stand... Please - do follow."

He swipes a cup, taking a bow, as he sweeps his cloak back he shoots the elven wine and tosses the cup to Dral in one smooth movement. 

 Ink vanishes even as the wooden cup is in mid-flight to Dral. 

By way of explanation, especially if any of you look confused or worried, Dral says, “Ah...in case Darathra didn’t tell ya, this wine is the secret back door up to Moongleam Tower. Old Harper trick.”

Quote from Gimpster >>

"Then I must be a great mage indeed, I don't need a drink to do that! ....I'll still take the drink though"

 Rip disappears like the others as soon as he takes a sip of the wine.

[Oh. I totally missed that effect! Now it all makes sense haha!]

Crownsguard did not realize he had vanished, it now clicks in his metal brain. “This is not common for alcohol. This is, as organics say, ‘fun.’”

"oh, well I guess I can't actually do that!"

Marav and Flint still remain in the pub, having witnessed the other three vanish. (We can say that you have managed to stable the animals prior to this, if you wish—your option)

Meanwhile, Rip, Ink, and Crownsguard find themselves seated in an immaculate parlor that contains austere furnishings and a dozen tressym. These winged cats are domesticated, and lounge about the interior. One of the tressym strides casually up to each party member in turn and rubs up against theirs legs. 

Having been their first, Ink and Rip see Crownsguard petting a cat, “Hello Rip and Ink. I have found a cat. It seems that we have been transported. This place is very nice. It is good to see responsible use of magic in society again. I am glad that the organics did not ruin that.”

Marav sighs and picks up the cup. He looks at it disdainfully and gives Dral a pained look. "Elven wine is so sickeningly sweet..." he sighs dramatically then swallows it in one gulp.

Marav suddenly finds himself sitting in an austerely decorates parlor with Rip, Crownsguard, Ink, and about a dozen domesticated tressym.

Crownsguard repeats the same message that he relied to Rip and Ink. However, he now has two cats.

"More of a dog person myself, but winged cats are pretty cool"

Back at the pub Danivarr's House, Dral the half orc nods at Flint. "You gonna be joining them?"