Lady Kirriam stayed back as the Captain poured some sort of potent-looking liquid down her brother's throat. Absently, she stroked Nightrunner's sleek black coat, distracted enough that she never thought about the fact that this powerful animal could have easily ripped her arm off if the mood so struck him. She was torn between hurrying herself to the other tent where her dress was so she could get properly attired again, or staying here waiting to see how her brother fared.
Curious concern, aided by the cloak that she was still securely wrapped in, won out over modesty, and she decided to stay. She did not have to wait long.
"Hrrrgggghhkkk..." Tolan mumbled as the Cannard seeped through his unconsciousness. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, arms flailing, with a less-than-dignified display of what he really thought of the Drow liquor.
*Pppppppppppppppphhhhhhhhhthhhhhhhhttt!* "Hhhhhhhaah! Wha- what the?! Lady of the Moons, who was pouring boiling lead down my throat?!?" A few deep gasps later, he completely came back to his senses, and despite his rapid panting, began to comprehend the smirks on the faces of the Captain and his Lieutenant. Further, he noticed the familiar-looking tankard in Sterling's hand. "That was more of your Cannard, wasn't it?" he asked sheepishly, wiping his mouth to surreptitiously feel if his lips had indeed incinerated and turned to embers like he thought they had. Looking perhaps a tad woozy- from either the fainting or the Cannard, that was anyone's guess- he smiled wanly and nodded to the tankard. "Most effective."
