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Champion of the honeymead.

"let the good times roll."

All adventures start in a tavern somewhere.
So did this:

From Grims Diary:
I always knew that Mivera could hold her liquor. I just never knew how much until the day we met Corrovire.

Our first meeting was a little less then inspiring. Having just managed to drink every heavyweight under the table. Mivera was just about to retire from the bar, happy in the knowledge that she (privilege of winning the drinking game) Was not gonna have to pay for any of the drinks. It was then that this Big green fellow (relatively) though small by dragon standards, was still the size of two of us regular herbivores – walked over to our table. He introduced himself as Corrovire, congratulated Mivera on her impressive drinking, and promptly dared her to a little game of double or nothing.

The greedy bastard was clearly sensing an easy win. Mivera had been drinking most of the night away, and he was cleanly sober as a whistle.

I tried to remind Mivera of this. But she had this competitive glee about her. Probably brought on by the drinks and riding high on confidence from her previous victories. She thus accepted the dragons offer. And I could only sigh as I knew this was gonna be a very long night.

Now, everyone was expecting Mivera to finally pass out. Some of the more rough guests started taking bets on how many drinks it would take to Finally see the 'Champion of the honneymead' dethroned. Something that only spurred my partner on further.

What followed was probably the most impressive feat of bladder control, mental strength (or perhaps just stupidity) and resilience that I had ever witnessed. Mivera simply matched the big green lizard shot for shot. The lizard turned several shades of green as the match continued. But refused to give in (probably realizing how big the bar tab would be for the loosing party.) This continued until the sun rose. And it wasn't until the bar was starting to run dry that the bigger party finally collapsed. — Not passed out – Collapsed, clutching his bloated belly and seemed to convulse in several types of alcohol poisoning.

Several of the guests wondered if he would die on the spot while the doctor did her best with the detoxification procedure, while cursing about how she knew nothing about Dragon biology.

At the same time. Mivera just sat there, smiling like a drunken child, clearly at the end of her rope but sill refusing to keel over. Glypth finally walked over and told me to forget about the dragon. She wanted to know how I the name of Tartarus Mivera was still alive.

It was kind of then it klicked. That not only had managed to outdrink a Celectial damned dragon. She had done so after having drunken every other loudmouth challenger in that bar into oblivion. She should have at least twice as much alcohol in her.

Mivera, who were going cross-eyed, simply grinned at the question, and answered:

“I got a strong metabolism.”

Glypth sighed.

“Right, cause that makes a hell of a lot of sense.”

And thats how we met our soon to be dear friend, the dragon Corrorvire for the first, and almost last, time.

Upvotes at import: 22 | Stars at import: 14
Posted previously at: 2020-10-02T15:14:26 | Posted previously by: GrimWeird