A Princess, An Elf, And A Demon — Walk Into A Bar...

The tavern went silent. Even the half-orc bard stopped strumming his lute, his fingers frozen on a minor chord. The Interaction

The bartender stared. Malphas leaned over, his horns narrowly missing a low-hanging chandelier. "Give 'em the rotgut, barkeep. And for me? Whatever you use to strip the paint off those wagons outside. Make it a double." The Punchline A Princess, an Elf, and a Demon Walk Into a Bar...

Malphas took a massive swig of the liquid fire and grinned, showing too many teeth. "Because, Princess... the Dark Lord might be coming for your kingdom, and the Void might be swallowing the Elven forests, but even the apocalypse needs a designated driver." The tavern went silent

"Exactly," Malphas chuckled. "And we were still ten minutes early for happy hour." Malphas leaned over, his horns narrowly missing a

Thandriel looked at his murky ale, then at the Demon. "I am not driving the carriage, Malphas. The last time you 'navigated,' we ended up in the Third Circle of Hell."

"We got ale and 'The Special,'" the bartender grunted, polishing a mug with a rag that was arguably filthier than the glass.