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((The Mon/Wen/Fri Double -- page 1 of 2))
Among so many of his friends and comrades like this, Hector didn't really feel nervous at all. Sure, he was getting a lot of attention, but that was pretty normal at this point, and he knew that the Rainlords weren't looking to silently judge him or anything. There wasn't an oppressive feeling that he had to prove himself in their eyes.

They were just happy to see him. And he, them.

And the longer the banquet went on, the more he realized this.

Warrenhold truly felt like a home to him now, more so than any other place he had ever lived.

After a while longer of enjoying the festivities, the King finally began to slow down a little. He grabbed a drink for himself at the bar, and he and Hector made their way out into the main plaza together for some only-slightly-fresher air.

The King wasn't the only one slowing down, however. The crowd was thinning, and Hector could see a few people dragging themselves or each other up to their rooms.

Until just the other day, there hadn't been any alcohol in Warrenhold at all. Hector just hadn't considered it a priority, and neither had Ms. Rogers, apparently. He'd heard a few complaints about it here and there, but he hadn't intended to bother doing anything about it until hearing that the King would be visiting. So Hector had finally asked Ms. Rogers to have some hard drinks shipped in for the banquet.

Heh. And now that he was witnessing the results of that decision, he wondered if the alcohol was the real reason for everyone's good cheer this evening.

He hoped that was only part of it and not the primary cause.

Hector and the King were pretty much alone now. The few others that dotted the plaza were either unconscious or barely so, and even Garovel had wandered off a while ago.

The King offered him his glass of gin. "Want a sip? I promise not to tell anyone."

Hector held up a hand in refusal. "I don't really like alcohol."

That caught the man's attention. "You've had it before?"