[SE] dead men tell no tales, but the living do

Aithne

I see how this is gonna go

Aithne grew up sheltered; alcohol had not been something that was regularly offered, much to the girl's chagrin. It wasn't until Aithne escaped her parents' watchful eyes that she began drinking, and now, even with all the freedom in the world, she prefers cocktails where she can't taste the alcohol over straight liquor from the bottle. Regardless, though, she's not going to turn down a free drink - or the entertainment that comes with it.

Hanging onto every word, she finally leans back on her crate as the story ends. Snorting a laugh at Thalassa's opinion of Stormbreak, she nodded emphatically. "Gods, you can say that again." Aithne doesn't lament the loss of the floating city. As far as she's concerned, the world is better off without the racist cesspool. As for her career choices, Aithne shrugs. "I meannnn, you're not wrong," she says thoughtfully. "But, I dunno. I'm happy where I'm at. I'm working with Charlie to become a priestess of Dygra!"

Touch me and you'll never be alone