Lucky wasn't used to seeing old friends in people, but the day he saw Aku, with the air thick with mist and his vision still blurred, he nearly mistook him for Cort, risen from the grave and treating it like a nap after a night of fighting and drinking.

When the mist cleared though, what he saw wasn't his friend. The skin an angry red color instead of the murky green of a half-orc, and the tusks stuck out farther than Cort's filed down teeth. Still though, the plain manner of speaking and the proclivity for drink and violence reminded him.

Dex, upon meeting him, elicited the same reaction. The bursts of profanity as he beat on the coffin reminded him so much of Eddie, the one who had taught him how to count cards and shark the other people at the table. Even the taste was similar, fresh menthol compared to overpowering spearmint. Even the way they fought was similar, wild swings interspersed with peels of laughter and vulgar taunts.

When he realized it, Elizabeth's similarity to Susan was striking. Her kindness, her willingness to help, her friendliness and even her skill with magic was close to the motherly woman.

Even Isha, small and so full of contempt for everything around him, gave him pause. His pure rage at the world seeming so much like Elias and his gutter mouth even more so, spitting scornful comments in Undercommon at anyone who so much as looked at him wrong.

Returning back to Drem, Lucky made for the Graveyard, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks in tracks as he hurried along. He made his way to a specific cluster of graves, maybe three rows away from the ones where Cask and Tequila rested.

Pulling out the bottle of rum from his bag, he poured a bit on each of their headstones before settling himself down cross-legged in front of them, and he began to speak.

"Hey Cort, Susie, Ed, El, you guys won't believe some of the folks I've met recently…"