Oryx laughed and took his cup from the old elf and motioned close an out looking window in search of Celeste. He had not hear from her since their last meeting all those years ago, and he hoped the lass would get here safely. Too many damn fiends lost. He knew he had little to fear for Celeste, but just the thought of losing another on this day made his heart sink. If he and a heart.

As the others drank and made merriment, Oryx took him time to give rememberence. With cup in hand, the Vanguard poured the drink out onto the grass below. The smell of booze soaked into the green earth, a scent he could not pick up.

"Drink well, allies of old," Oryx muttered to himself to try and keep his personal ceremony out of the eyes of the others. "For the Archers Three, for the Great Wizard Concara, and for The Good Priest, Ozirys. For all that we have lost. May the Seven sing your names in eternal glory for the lives you lived. Drink well you beautiful bastards."