Illillitl flinched when Dulartus offered him the chalice. "If that wine is sloshed too abruptly, we will be needing a new Abbey" he quietly thought to himself.
Clasping the chalice firmly in both hands, Illillitl suddenly felt more sober than he had in years. His eyes were riveted to the ruby liquid in the gold lined pewter chalice. "So this is what is feels like to stare Death in the face." he quietly mused in his mind.
