Six days later, Arad was back at Alina, sitting with Alcott in a local bar. While most kings shy away from visiting common places because of the possibility of assassination, Arad was the last emperor that any sane assassin would take a contract for.
Alcott smiled, "Told you, the beer here is good."
Arad finished his mug in a single gulp, "It is, sadly, it's mixed with honey."
Alcott frowned, "That is what makes it good, you don't like that?"
Arad shook his head, and the bartender rushed to fill his mug. Only then did it become apparent that Arad wasn't using a mug, but a modified bucket.
"The high elves won't be able to drink it." Arad explained, and Alcott shrugged, "They can take a stomach ache, or two."
The reason the two met here wasn't to just have a drink, but it was because Arad needed Alcott's advice on something important. "Chromatic or Metallic?"
