Valey wrinkled her nose, sitting on her back in a chair with her legs up as comfortably as she could given her injuries and staring inquisitively at a mug of frothing liquid, a small patch bubbling on her tongue. "This stuff is weird. It has, like, bubbles."
Saffron laughed. "Have you never had something fizzy before?"
"Really? I thought Sosa was known for their beer," the pink mare said, still having given no name. At this point, Valey was starting to feel she wasn't supposed to ask. "Didn't you live in Ironridge?"
Valey shrugged. "Yeah, but Sosans were sad all the time and mostly used alcohol to forget their lives. I was living the high life, so why bother? At least, I sure felt that way at the time." She blinked. "I did trawl a lot of taverns just for kicks, though, and I'm pretty sure I never saw them drink stuff like this."
"Now that's just sad," Saffron huffed. "That's no way to get out there and party with your friends. But, uh, don't worry about this here stuff. Figured it wouldn't do for creatures to go about getting drunk at a planning session to save the tournament, so this here's soft cider. But it sure is fizzy!"
"Try some," Pierre urged. "Miss Sunflower is very fond of her otherworldly culinary secrets. Perhaps you will have some luck flattering the recipe from her."
Saffron drained a whole mug at once, wiping her lips with her telekinesis. "Tough luck downing more than me. But go on. Tell us what you think!"
"I CAN DOWN MORE THAN YOU," Randorf muttered, nursing a tankard like it was a baby.
"Yeah, something tells me you don't count, big guy." Valey stared into the foaming surface of her mug, then tipped it back, tried to chug... and immediately splashed herself, sputtering.
Saffron guffawed, purging the spilled cider from Valey's coat with her aura. "You're supposed to sip it, sugarcube. I didn't think you'd do that literally!"
Valey wheezed, eyes watering. "How was I supposed to know it would do this to my nose...?"
Over her shoulder, Amber had sidled up and was watching with a disapproving frown. "Did I really never get you anything like this in Riverfall? Because I know we have fizzy stuff there."
Diego chuckled. "For what it's worth, she's telling the truth about Ironridge beer. Since they ship it so far, their city specialty is making drinks that taste good flat. Cuts down on kegs exploding in transit."
"Tragic," Pierre muttered, shaking his head. "What is the working class to do, drink wine instead?"
"Don't know, don't care," Valey managed, her sinuses starting to clear. "Alright, sipping this time..."
Eventually, she sat up, eyes widening. "Hey, this is actually really good!"
"I KNOW!" Randorf cheered.
"Do you even have an indoor voice?" Amber asked, leaning against Valey's chair and raising an interested eyebrow at the huge pegasus.
Randorf bit his lip. "Yes. It's not very good at expressing myself."
"It's a lot easier on the ears," the pink mare admitted. "But it is nice to hear a voice you recognize cheering in the crowd during fights. You should hear his real outdoor voice."
"And by that," Pierre said, sipping his own mug with dignity, "she means the only reason he did not deafen you during our duel was to avoid deafening me as well."
Randorf winked.
Saffron shook her head. "Probably could have taken the two of you to town even if you had wrung her ears out. Beating two of us with barely a scratch just isn't something we see happen."
"Uh, heh heh..." Valey looked up from her mug. "No hard feelings?"
"...It will make for a good story," Pierre explained. "When there are as many of us fighting as there are, losing is always inevitable. And since we always remember our losses, it is good for them to happen in interesting ways."
Randorf nodded, grinning.
"Maybe we'll see if we can't rig the brackets a little to get you to fight me, soon," Saffron chuckled. "Out of us few, you, me and Diego are the ones who are still in. I'd love to get a friendly bout in and see what you're capable of myself. Especially since you're a sarosian who fights without that weird Mistvale magic. Never thought I'd see the day."
Valey blinked. "You want to fight me? I mean, sure. Don't get that a lot."
"You seem like a good enough sport," the pink mare answered. "You're nicer to talk to than we had feared. And Diego vouches for you."
Diego nodded sagely, draining the rest of his mug and moving for a refill.
Saffron's aura flicked the barrel tap, her horn longer and more slender than an average unicorn's to go with her thinner, more angular frame. "Well, sure. Everyone deserves a chance to make a good first impression."
"Yeah, my first impression!" Valey's ears went down. "I mean, you guys have clearly heard stories about me."
Saffron leaned in in interest. "Oh? We telling stories, now? Call me interested! What's in your colorful past, sugarcube?"
"Uhh..." Valey fidgeted. "Yeah, see, I used to live in Ironridge, which totally doesn't follow the Griffon Empire's rules, and Meltdown was right there a minute ago..."
"Don't you worry about her," Pierre dismissed, sharpening a talon. "Meltdown cares about enforcing laws in the here and now, not waging holy war against acts committed long ago in other nations."
Amber came to Valey's defense. "Maybe one of you go first if we're sharing stories instead?"
Saffron nodded, and Pierre shrugged. "Randorf and I go back a long way," the griffon explained. "We grew up in Wilderwind, joined a mercenary band as youths, became friends and formed a duo of blade and brawn. But I discovered an aptitude for mess duty and we left together to get rich in the city. Outside of tournament season, he is now an acrobat and stunt stallion for a traveling performance troupe, and I am a professional chef."
The pink mare cleared her throat. "I'm a cartographer. I used to work as a navigator when shipping was more common. I was born in Goldfeather, but grew up on the sea, sailing with my father's merchant ship. I learned to fight training with his crew against pirate boardings, and got good at it enough to be where I am today."
"Did I ever catch your name?" Amber asked, still leaning against Valey's chair. "Sorry if I missed introductions. I'm Amber, by the way." She offered a friendly smile.
"Um... maybe you didn't," the other mare said, hiding an eye behind her frizzy blue mane.
Saffron sighed heavily. "Her name is Shill, which is a beautiful name and means money up in Varsidel. She's just a little sensitive right now because that sword-toting scallywag Yulio made fun of it the other day hard enough to break her concentration and get her to throw her battle."
"Bananas, that's rude." Valey frowned, and Shill shrank slightly. "I mean, it's probably something I'd do too, but only against someone who really deserved it. She didn't do anything first?"
Shill mumbled something unintelligible, and Saffron gave an apologetic smile. "So how about me, though?" she asked, trying to change the subject. "Surely you're wondering what someone with a fine, dainty bod like me is doing in as rough-and-tumble a sport as this one?"
"Gotta admit, I kind of have." Amber whistled. "Take it as a compliment, but you look good, girl!"
"Hah. Well, I get that a lot." Saffron stretched, showing off her sharp chin and unusual proportions. "Short answer is, my mother was a noble and my father was an apple farmer. Being literally born in a barn has a bit of stigma among certain crowds, and looking all prissy and delicate and being a hornhead doesn't get you far with others. So, once I was old enough, I said see ya to both of them and went out to become an adventurer and make my own way in the world. Best choice I ever did make."
"Ask her where she is from," Pierre muttered, sipping daintily at his cider.
"You're an eager fellow, aren't you?" Saffron flicked at him with her telekinesis. "You think my looks are exotic? I'm from Equestria. That's what we call the Plains of Harmony."