"Why would anyone want to endure this mage-madness sober?" snarled Fenris, softly, in a drunk-muddled rage. He snatched two glasses from another passing tray, shoving one at the other man; his roughness sent a few others clattering to the floor, the crystal thin enough that it only chimed before it was broken still further by passing feet.

He took no heed, downing one glass as quick as he had the one he'd stolen from Will. "Likely we're just... in the Fade. And when our bodies wake, this will just be a dream." He squinted mistrustfully at Will, then, mouth twisting.

"Maybe you're the demon responsible?"