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Post by Leona Redwyne on Apr 30, 2015 13:23:25 GMT -5
She clinked her cup against his.
"Aye. Don't drink too much, will you? You'll need your wits about you tomorrow."
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Post by Quentyn Cleftjaw on Apr 30, 2015 13:29:35 GMT -5
Quentyn drained his cup and poured another.
"You seem a little young to be my mother, Freya. It'll take a few days to get where we're going anyway, and I've got plenty of experience getting a ship to sea with a hangover."
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Apr 30, 2015 14:09:16 GMT -5
"Fair enough. Perhaps it's different for a man. A woman has to be more careful if she hopes to keep her place. I have a crew I trust now, but in the early days I had to fight many men who thought I'd be an easy conquest. I couldn't take the risk of going to bed drunk when I'd be sailing on the morrow." She drank deep. "Let's drink a toast. To Dorne."
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Post by Quentyn Cleftjaw on Apr 30, 2015 14:45:46 GMT -5
He raised his cup once more, and raised his voice to address the entire hall.
"To Dorne! To victory!"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Apr 30, 2015 14:48:01 GMT -5
The quiet Saltcliffe raises his scythe. Everyone cheers
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Post by Leona Redwyne on Apr 30, 2015 15:24:48 GMT -5
"To King Euric and Prince Killion," Freya added, taking another drink.
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