You went straight to Mondstadt's tavern, trying to remember where it was located. Once there, over a table in the darkest part of the tavern was Dainsleif. Surrounding him were liquor bottles. So many empty bottles piled upon each other that you lost count.

For a second, you wondered if your eyes were playing tricks on you. Dainsleif had hated the liquor here, hated the tavern, hated everything.