Dreameater Meryl sat atop the low stone wall at the town's edge, her senses dulled by the warmth of intoxication. The night enveloped her, a velvety black tapestry adorned with flickering campfires that stretched along the winding road.Each crimson flame danced, casting its glow upon those who gathered—souls wrapped in joy, their eyes fixed on a distant horizon of hope."It's a night of cacophony," murmured the hunger-panged Dreameater, lifting the wine flask cradled in her arms. She drank deeply, drowning out the campsite's clamor—the chatter, the laughter, the distant songs—all merging into a hazy symphony."You needn't hide your indulgence from me, Meryl," Isabella, the sorceress, spoke from below the wall. Her voice, soft and clear, startled the sweet wine from Dreameater's grasp."Dreameater Meryl, I thought you were kickin' it with those badass heroes, yappin' about Olpat's destiny," drawled the pleasantly tipsy Dreameater. She flashed a grin, swayed like a tipsy reed, and tumbled ungracefully off the low wall, landing smack in the middle of the shrubbery below. Remarkably unscathed, she stood up, shakin' off clingy leaves and twigs. With a mischievous glint, she sauntered over to the sorceress, Isabella, who cradled a jug of fresh hooch."Is this for me?" Dreameater asked, feigning innocence.Isabella's smile was as smooth as a jazz sax solo. She extended the hooch toward Meryl. "I don't partake," she replied. "My lack of military know-how makes me about as useful as a screen door on a submarine in their discussions. Why not keep an old friend company instead?"Dreameater wiped away imaginary tears. Her friendship with Isabella had long transcended the need for tearful displays. She accepted the proffered drink, raisi