Cocktails With Clive -- "Capital City-Bound Sake Bomb (Plot)"

Take:
 
A shot of warm Draconian sake (any kind, I can't tell the feckin difference, who knows what Draconians do with their feckin' alcohol). This represents Zadrick--Huntress bless 'is 'eart--Mercy, and myself, with know idea how deep we were gonna be in insurgent inside-job quagmire.
 
Place the shot, balanced upon two pencils or hairpins or something, over:
 
-A DEEP glass of Miscop Microbrew. This represents the deep shit we're getting into, literally, with a feckin BOMB PLOT happening underneath the streets of Port Nigh.
 
Now, fight your way through the underbelly of Port Nigh, defusing bombs and almost getting blown to smithers, all the while Zadrick is punchin' blokes in the balls and Mercy is talkin' to birds.
 
Set a countdown, maybe in the shape of, oh, I dunno, a lit fuse. Wait for it to go off while you're listening to some arsefeckin' terrorist go on about idealism and the foolishness of the Boy King. Wait till he tells you--get this--GENERAL FECKIN VIDIAN HIMSELF is in on the plot. Wait for the guy to tell you how murderin' civilians is entirely worth it for the cause.
 
Shoot the bastard in his smug feckin face. If you set things up well and got your timing right, your shot of sake will fall into your beer and you'll just barely avoid getting you head shot off by two--count 'em, I sure didn't--snipers.
 
Drink to Mercy's health, wonder that she is, after she saves you from feckin bleeding out in a courtyard shootout. Turns out, I'd only capped half the snipers in the square when I shot number one. The other was some kinda monster.
 
Watch as the feckin idiot who ranted about 'is smart-aleck ideals to you tries to light a fuse underwater. Terrorists are feckin dumb as SHIT.
 
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And now we're feckin' heroes of Port Nigh or something. I guess I never really felt the need for that much attention, but... it feels nice. I'm just ecstatic I got outta there alive. One audience with King Ivadra later and I'm part of the guard, good ol' Zadrick right there with me.
 
I hope Mercy sticks around in the capital a bit--she said she has a lot of studying to do. I can't imagine what about. But me... I dunno. It's an honor and all that to be part of the Royal Guard, but I hope I still get the chance to go on an expedition or two. I'd miss the odd foray into the sands.
 
And then there's Zorden. Never mind "Boy King," he's just a feckin' king, whether it's too early for the kid or not. Much as I hate to admit it, there's some mite o' truth to what the conspirators were saying: it's a lotta feckin' responsibility for such a young man, especially with things the way they are now, Imperium actin' up and all that unrest. I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't antsy. Although this does give me an excellent vantage point into how he's gonna be makin' 'is decisions. Maybe if I get a little nosey, I can even 'elp him along 'is way, aside from keepin' the kid--the King--alive. Y'know how it is. I stick to my job, I do it well, I keep Zadrick's meaty fists by my side... and I'll do alright.