On New Years Eve, four hours from midnight, the three members of the Order still together made their way towards the edges of the celebration, Belkar not having bothered with his disguise despite threats of reprimands seeming particularly dejected.
"So I'm stuck drinking with fuzzy-wuzzy and the elf?"
"Truly it is an unknowable mystery why you are unable to attract any company or companions with such a sunny attitude and disposition."
Belkar shrugged disinterestedly at Vaarsuvius's reply, not really listening, then continued his rant. "I mean, everywhere is free. Everywhere. Even the classy places where they weigh your wallet before they let you in. And we're going to the pub. This is a whole new low."
"I surmise that because they are free, consumers of a more froward-thinking mindset had already set down their reservations. And since any one with any charisma has joined them we are left, as you succinctly put it, at the pub." Vaarsuvius replied, trying to needle Belkar.
"Well, you I can understand, and the dwarf, but I'm better than this. I know I am."
"Speak fer yeself, lad. Ah got ae date." Durkon replied plainly.
It seemed to take a moment for Belkar to process this. He blinked a few times, and his lips moved as though he was having trouble vocalizing his thoughts.
"Wha… Wh…how?" He chocked out at last, his eyebrow managing to rise where his hairline would be while his eyes narrowed and his head cocked, as rage, jealousy and deep confusion intermingled with disbelief. It seemed an almost impossible expression, and it's presence on Belkar's face endeared the dwarf to Vaarsuvius for all time.
"Well," Durkon said, with an air of casualness, "Neaten yerself oop a wee bit, be polite, an' re'pec'ful, an' per'aps grow ae beard."
Something like a quiet, drawn-out scream, escaped through Belkar's lips.
Durkon ignored him. "Thar tha lass be noo." He said happily, and walked past the halfling to the other side of the street. A tall, attractive women was leaning casually to the corner. She was very pretty, in a lean sort of way, and was wearing a dress just a bit to low cut to be casual, showing off her natural curves. Her short blue hair in an untidy mess, and she was fidgeting slightly, as though the clothes were slightly uncomfortable, and indeed they had the sheen of brand new clothes, never before worn.
She gave a wide, dazzling smile and waved as she saw the dwarf approach, and seemed to brighten up considerably. When he was close she bent down to kiss him, a quick, chaste kiss, if Vaarsuvius was any judge, but certainly a promising one. They started to walk off, and she laughed quietly but genuinely at something Durkon had said, her azure hair tussled slightly, their hands slipping together with an easy familiarity.
Belkar was still frozen, his expression deepening and a faint hiss escaping his lips.
Vaarsuvius was almost worried. "Are you well?"
Belkar snapped out of it with a growl. "No! I've just been ditched by the solid, dependable character who is nothing but boring, to go spend time with an A-class hottie totally out of his league! Leaving me with you!"
Vaarsuvius blinked, then shook head. "Actually… I was only coming to spend time with master Thundershield. You're not really my sort of company, I prefer intellectual types. I'll go back to the inn and trance." Vaarsuvius said to Belkar, turning on the right heel and walking away, muttering so low Belkar barely he heard, "maybe I should send to Kyrie."
Belkar stayed still for a long time. Finally he shook his head. "Gods I hate you all."