Navarre had learned to drink at a young age, but then again, growing up in a band of mercenaries, it was almost expected. Following convention wasn't always his way of doing things--- except here, when the hands got angry and told him to do stuff. Like attend this stupid ball. Pansy ass ball.

He shifted his weight a bit, staring out in the crowd again. The music really was god-awful. "They need better music. My ears are gonna fall off."