*Leaves a copy of her helmet next to the passed out tiergan from having drank too much, with a small card against the helmet upon which is written "Thanks for a good time." With a crudely doodled heart. Nothing had actually happened the previous night, but Valde couldn't pass up the chance to cause him a slight heart attack.*
“….Thanks… for a .. good time…? Wait. Oh fu–”
Tiergan felt a sudden flash of surprise and immediately sat up from his somewhat comfortable position sprawled out upon the inn-room floor, patting himself down frantically. It took all of a second for his sluggish, hungover brain to register he was decidedly not naked and still very much had on most of his armor. In fact, it seemed as though he only managed to get as far as tugging off a singular boot before he fumbled face-first into bed.
There was no way in all the hells he would’ve been sober enough last night to crawl out of his gear, ravish a powerful female mercenary, and then get all of his armor back into place again without half of it being on backwards or scattered in different places on the floor. So then, the good time must have been…
“Did we beat up a Behemoth…?”
