I swept the room with a mindful gaze as I entered the Bee and Bard, pushing the door closed against the cold air trying to shove past me. The tavern was already heated by dozens of mingling bodies escaping from the winter chill. Rich and poor alike, on nights like this everyone always had a little extra gold to spend on mead and it seemed like half of Riften was milling about here tonight.

As I weaved through the crowd towards the bar, I made note of many of the regulars. Among them was Maven chatting to a stuffy noble; Indaryn, one of Maven's faithful employees; Vulwulf Snow-Shod drinking away the death of his daughter; and Mjoll the Lioness who was curiously without her Imperial companion, Aerin, for once. Mjoll was well known across Riften for her hatred of the Thieves Guild so I made sure to give her a wide berth.

Talen-Jei was whispering lovingly in Keerava's ear behind the bar when I approached and sat on one of the vacant stools. Almost immediately their smiles hardened, and I couldn't exactly blame them after I had extorted them. Business was business, but there were bound to be some hard feelings after resorting to threats.

"Not here to blackmail us again, I hope?" Talen-Jei said, trying poorly to joke with me.

"Not today," I said, uncertain if he was actually jesting. At least he wasn't chasing me out of the inn with a broom anymore. That had been an amusing tale to tell, but it hadn't really ended well for either of us.

"In that case, what can I do for you?" he asked in his raspy voice, easing into a slightly more casual tone, though Keerava pointedly gave me the cold shoulder.

"Got anymore of your Velvet Lechance?" I asked, grimacing at the silent treatment. Keerava didn't have a mean bone in her body so eventually I hoped to wear her down. In the mean time, it was time to drink.

As Talen-Jei nimbly flitted away to grab a bottle, another voice called for my attention.

"Velvet Lechance, huh?" said the man beside me. "Fancy drink."

I turned on my stool to see a skinny Breton in a flowing black robe that clearly indicated some sort of mage. He had shoulder length brown hair, and wide eyes sunken into a plain, beardless face.

"And you are?" I raised an eyebrow.

"The name's Sam," he said, extending a large hand.

I studied him for a moment, trying to get a decent read on the man. His cheeks were glowing with alcohol, his thin lips were stretched in a jovial grin, and if he recognized my Thieves Guild armour (which less and less people were being able to do these days) he gave no sign of it. He was, I determined, perhaps the most ordinary man I had ever laid eyes on.

"Kashyra," I said, shaking his outstretched hand after a few seconds. "But everyone just calls me Kasha."

Or more recently, Lightfoot, I thought, though I left that part out.

"Here's your drink," said Talen-Jei, and I murmured my thanks, paying the appropriate amount of gold.

"So... Sam. Are you a traveler?" I asked, groping for something to talk about. "I haven't seen you around here before."

"I suppose you can call me that," he said, words slurring slightly. "I've been here for a little over a week. Seen you come in around here a couple of times, though I guess I blend in pretty well since you didn't notice me."

Slightly embarrassed, I said nothing, taking a large gulp from my tankard instead and wiping my mouth with my sleeve as I set it back down.

"Say," he said, watching me with his dark, sunken eyes. "You look like you can hold your liquor. Care for a friendly drinking contest? If you win, I'll give you this real nice staff I found."

I laughed. "If you're looking for a challenge, you've come to the wrong elf," I said. "I'm afraid I couldn't hold my liquor if someone was paying me a hundred gold pieces to. And yes, that's from experience."

"Well, I've already had a few bottles," he insisted, laughing too. "Besides what's the worst that can happen? Seems to me that you were planning to get pretty drunk anyways. I'll even provide the drinks. I've got this special brew – very strong stuff. A few shots could knock a person out so I guarantee it won't take much of your time."

"Let me get this straight," I interrupted, eyes gleaming at the prospect. "If I win, I get this staff you're offering?"

"Correct."

"So what do you get if you win?"

"The satisfaction of drinking yet another challenger under the table," he grinned. "In other words, nothing. It's a friendly drinking challenge and I'm the only one here who stands to lose anything here! What do you say?"

I thought for a moment. Is there a downside to this? Free drinks, and I could potentially win a staff from this. I can get good money for a staff...

"Alright then," I said, setting down my Velvet Lechance. "You've convinced me. I accept your challenge."

"Good, good!" he grinned and proceeded to pull out two small bottles from one of the pouches at his hip, handing one to me.

The bottle was only slightly bigger than my fist, an opaque blue in color and unlabeled. I uncorked it, suddenly feeling a little more doubtful about drinking a strange concoction from a perfect stranger. I sniffed at the contents cautiously, and immediately recoiled from the strength of the stench.

"By the Eight! What's in this thing?"

"I told you," he laughed again. "A few shots of this could knock a person out. But don't worry, it's perfectly safe. Here, I'll show you." He took a sip from his bottle, and then, still seeing the mistrustful look in my eye, took a sip from mine as well. "See?" he said, face contorting at the taste. "Strong, but perfectly" – cough – "safe."

I took the bottle back tentatively, feeling a little better that the drink wasn't poisoned at least, though not entirely convinced of its safety. Nevertheless...

"Okay, let's do this," I said while I still felt brave.

"Great! I'll go first," said Sam. I watched as he tilted back his head and downed the tiny bottle, exhaling heavily has he set it down on the table. "One down. Your turn."

I stared at the bottle again, mentally preparing myself.

Well, I did want to get drunk tonight. Here goes.

"Bottom's up," I said, and drank.

As soon as the liquid made contact with my throat, I almost coughed it right back up. It was bittersweet at first and tasted kind of like how I'd imagine roses to taste. Only these roses seemed to be mixed with firesalts and alcohol and burned my throat like no other drink I'd had before. By the time the bottle was on the table, the tavern was already tilting.

"Wow, that... hits fast," I blinked, trying to shake my head clear.

"Tell me about it," he slurred. "One down for both of us."

This is a terrible idea, said a faint voice in my head somewhere, but I pushed it aside.

No, this is a great idea. I'm getting drunk for free, and I'll get a staff out of this if this guy is true to his word.

And that was the last thing I remembered.