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Kellen sits down, accepts the wine from the sprites and takes an appreciative sip. He is enjoying his encounter with the sprites. There were many such creatures, and their kin, in the woods where he was raised and he has always admired the "free-spiritedness" exhibited by most of them.
He was also - undisciplined - as a youth. Ignoring his chores to spend hours roaming his beloved woods and often getting into mischief very similar to that encouraged by the faerie folk.
After several drinks from the wine bottle, Kellen decides it would be rude to not drink from the other bottle as well. After all, Sylvas and...and....uh....the OTHER one were kind enough to offer it, what would they think if he refused?
He removes the mithral stopper and the pungent aroma of the dwarven spirit fills his nostrils. The smell is strong, but pleasant. It is also mildly intoxicating by itself.
Kellen lifts the bottle and takes a hearty swig. The liquid seems to burn its way down his throat, into his stomach, and then spreads to the very tips of his fingers and toes. Again, the sensation isn't unpleasant, just very powerful.
He notices that the sprites now seem to be flying around rather erratically (they're actually just hovering in front of him with very amused looks on thier faces.). He lifts the bottle and takes another long draught, then promptly falls over on his back in a deep sleep.
Jasper flies over and lands on Kellens' cheek. Reaching down, he lifts the elf's eyelids and peers underneath. Kellen shows no response.
"Nope," Jasper says, "DEFINITELY not a dwarf."
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Addison turns to the door to see what the disturbance is.
OOC>> Let me know what Mr. Quick does. I'm hoping to at least hit him with a spell or two before he zips off.
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