In the middle of the warfront, where two enemy empires bordered one another and a third loomed close by, Zaroth and David didn't take long to decide where they should meet to catch up.
What better place for a talk like that than a bar?
Quickly entering the place, Zaroth was surprised to see it completely empty. Sure, he had been told that David was the only person in the whole town defending it, but knowing and seeing something were two vastly different things.
Zaroth's nostrils quickly picked up on the faint smell of alcohol. It was clear that David had spent some time drinking, most likely trying to kill the boredom.
Sitting themselves across from one another, David put an old bottle of whiskey on the table with a thud.
With a satisfying pop, he opened it and filled their glasses to the brim.
Raising them high in the air, they spoke in unison, "Cheers."
They quickly drank most of the contents and proceeded to slam them down.
