#drunk ardyn

Insomnia had fallen, the prince and his friends were at large and the empire was thriving amidst a world of rot and chaos. 

What a time to be alive. 

Cards were folding now and none held so much as a pair. Niflheim's wrath had seen both side lose massive amounts of assets, but Insomnia falling certainly marked the end to Lucian rule. Truthfully, Ardyn cared little either way. His only source of pride came from the truth of his cunning being behind King Regis' downfall and still then he had Glauca to thank for such tragedy.

A sip of his booze makes way to washing it down via a hefty swig. He'd linger upon it's taste though he finds his mind elsewhere, his gaze distracted by a mask situated upon a familiar face. Skulked away in the corner of the tavern engulfed by a shadow sits a man he believed to be dead.

Ardyn makes drunken strides toward the table before dropping down beside him.