“I bet some akevitt will help you feel better,” Ingvar declared.
“I suppose it will,” (takes a glass) “Can you pour some for me?”
Oddbjørn took the bottle out of his coat. “I have some right here,” he opened it and poured some into the glass.
“Don’t mind if I do,” the count added, reaching his cup out.
“Merci,” then sips the akevitt. “This is pretty good.”
Oddbjørn nodded. “Of course it is. Akevitt’s been around since ancient times, back when Gliat Shea existed.”
“Cheers to a good voyage,” he added, raising his glass. “Bon voyage.”
“Cheers!” raises his glass and takes another sip. “I don’t believe I have gotten your names yet gentlemen.”
“Well, I’m Terje Ingvar, Count of Gjøjøen. And you are?” Ingvar said, extending his hand.
“My name is Lincoln Jones, a civil engineer,” shaking Terje Ingvar’s hand.
“Cheers! I’m Oddbjørn Zharkov, grandson of the Duke of Yoria.”
“Nice to meet you, Oddbjørn. How’s your grandfather doing?”
“I believe he’s still quite well. Healthy as an ox and all.”
“So, how are you two doing on this fine day?”
Oddbjørn shrugged. “I had a pretty shitty day earlier, now I feel fine.”
“My day was pretty uneventful, aside from recieving a telegram from my superiors back in the SAF.”
Lord Gallipol Argyle Crumplebottom emerged from his first class cabin after a long, refreshing nap. His dear wife would be out with her friends exploring the ship, and he had been left to his own devices. I assume The first class lounge should be populated at this hour? he thought, strolling leisurely down the eloquently decorated halls. He soon found himself in the lounge, quickly noticing the three men in light discourse enjoying some fine spirits. Feeling confident, the Morstaybishlian lord walked over to introduce himself.
“Hello gentlemen, how are you all doing this fine day!” he said, seating himself.
Seeing another man entering the lounge and greeting them, Lincoln Jones in a jolly mood says “I’m doing pretty damn well, with this fine Akevitt. How about you sir?”
“I am well also” replied Gallipol, noticing the mans drunkenness. “Akevitt, haven’t tried that spirit before. Is there any left in the bottle for me to try?”
“I don’t have the bottle but either Mr. Terje Ingvar or Mr. Oddbjørn Zharkov has it,” taking another sip of his cup.