Admittedly, it was less of a matter of skill and more a matter of producing something that was even remotely in line with what Abby had requested.  As it was, he had started to sketch out something that, from the right angle, looked like the love-child of a stuffed caterpillar and pac man chowing down on one of those pointy-S shapes that everyone drew in school. 

He glanced up, occasionally, to see just how long Abby's wandering eye followed Sasha on his quest for water.  When she finally drew her attention back to him, Anton couldn't help but smirk and chuckle. 

"Well, I suggest you don't get too attached to the knightly hair," Anton quipped.  "Jury's out on how long it'll last but, if his grandparents are anything to go off of, well..."  Who knew.  Maybe his friend would be genetically lucky. 

"Who doesn't dream of becoming a knight?"

Without hesitation, but with a hardy snort of a laugh, Anton's hand short straight up in the air.  "Have we been watching the same show?  Or any show with knights?  Have you seen their problem with occupational safety and hazards?  No - he's the Die-heroically-for-noble-causes-and-fair-maidens paladin sort.  I'm most certainly the I'll-do-it-for-the-right-price-if-I-know-I'll-survive rogue." 

With a long, suffering sigh, Anton sipped his beer and leaned back in his seat.  Dreams in life ... such an ambitious question.  Either she was a good match for Sasha or he was rubbing off on her. 

"Get laid, drunk and stoned on every continent," he offered, in a contemplative tone as if he was searching for the answers right then and there.  "Avoid sending child support checks to every continent.  I don't know - I suppose if we're talking serious, adult-like dreams, I've always wanted to be an ambassador when I grew up."

"Anton!" She gasped dramatically. "You said you were a knight of roses and now you tell me you're a rogue? I don't believe it. No switching character classes."

She leaned back on the bar stool and then quickly leaned forward again, not trusting her balance. Abby crossed her arms and set them on the table, feeling very warm and fuzzy-at-the-edges relaxed.

"Besides, Sasha would be the very careful kind of knight, living heroically and handsomely," she continued to ramble, loyally ignoring any teasing about his grandparents and their lack of hair. "And if you're talking about Game of Thrones, no one's safe. That's why we have to claim Westeros and make a better life for everyone. I don't care if I'm not welcome, I'll find a way."

She let a Targaryen gleam enter her eye as she sipped at the last of her drink. Done! She'd bested the alcohol!

Though she hadn't been serious, she had to grin in surprise at his dream. How were he and Sasha friends?

"I must admit that does sound rogue-like! While I'm ruling the world, you'll be making peaceful relations with everyone," she snickered, "And making sure we're growing the right sort of crops," she mimed smoking a joint. "As an ambassador-rogue-knight you'll get to travel to lots of continents. Countries. Castles."

Abby glanced at his drawing, trailing off in confusion. That did not look like a bear, or what she imagined a water bear to be. A caterpillar, maybe.

"Wonderlands?" She guessed, tapping the edge of the napkin with her finger.

"With your friend, Mr. Phallic symbol," she blurted, then burst out laughing.

Where was Sasha? He had to see this.

Anton quickly hopped to his feet and knelt down in a only mildly-restrained revering show of fealty.  "Oh, but my Grace, I've always been a rogue.  We rogues just lie.  You've grown far too accustomed to the righteous tendencies of paladins." 

Anton laughed as Abby described her king of nerds boyfriend in impressively flowery terms as he scrambled back into his seat.  When she explained her reasoning for going Targaryen on the current world order, he couldn't resist leaning forward to whisper across the table.  "Have you always been this geeky and optimistic?  If Rudi is using paladinly subversive tactics to brainwash you, just blink out an SOS.  I can arrange a rescue." 

That was really the only explanation.  At least, she was painting the proper role for him in her new world order. 

"That sounds like an awful lot of work," he pointed out, leaning back against the back of his seat, feeling wholly content with his level of intoxication and current company.  "But, I think I can handle traveling to every beach and overseeing the herb crop."

What?!  Wonderlands?  Mr. Phallic Symbol?"  Anton gasped, perhaps a little too loud.  "I'm not drawing a ..."  Motion out of the corner of his eye caught Anton's attention and he glanced up at his friend who was, thankfully, returning at just the right time. 

"Tell your girlfriend I did not draw my sigil to look like Mr. Phallic Symbol!"  Anton demanded, lifting his napkin to show his glorious and entirely appropriate-looking cigar/slug-with-legs to Sasha.  The two young men shared looks of surprised confusion. 

One could only guess what had prompted Sasha's confusion, though his red-faced and oh-so-predictably awkward "Tell her ... who ... what" provided a hint. 

Anton's own was a little more obvious.  "Where did you dredge ... did you go on a bloody crusades for the holy grail?" he asked, pointing to the extravagantly engraved effing goblet filled with water that he set in front of Abby. 

"Nevermind that," Sasha offered, dismissively, waving off the question and finding his seat - all with the telltale swagger of someone whose limit was, regrettably, a shot and a beer.  "What are you ... what are you two going on about?  I was only gone a few minutes; how much trouble can you get into?"

Abby shook her head and smiled at Anton's question. "Optimistic, yes. Geeky? No."

How did one even blink out an S.O.S? It took her a second to remember what that meant, but she didn't need it.

"I fully embrace the geekiness, what can I say? I'm sure you two influence each other more than you know," she teased. They'd been such good friends long enough.

Her point was only proven when Sasha returned and he and Anton shared nearly identical looks of surprise. The lifting of the eyebrows. The slight furrow of confusion. Sasha's blush was very paladin-like, while Anton denying it must be rogue-like!
 
At the sight of the fancy goblet, Abby gestured at it with both hands, and then put a hand to her heart and gave Sasha an exaggerated admiring look. Though a case of the giggles threatened, she managed to contain them.

"So much trouble," she grinned. "Anton tells me he's actually a rogue, can you believe it? I pardoned him though. I'm sure he has hidden paladin tendencies. Just like you have hidden rogue-like tendencies that you used to procure this glorious goblet of fire. Water! Goblet of water," she leaned into Sasha and laughed, mirth tinting her cheeks pink. They matched!

"I still don't see any water bears though," she gestured at the drawing on the napkin and had to turn her head away and hide her giggle in her shoulder.

Abby calmed enough to take a sip, genuinely amused and pleased by the surprise of the goblet. It was the little things.

"Sasha, you are. The best. I've declared it. It's an official decree."

She raised her eyebrows at him over the rim of the cup, eyes sparkling.

"Oh, the heavens know I've tried to influence him," Anton was in the midst of explaining when Sasha had rejoined them, complete with dramatic tones that were as much befitting a mother at the end of her patience.  "But, half the time, I don't think there's any getting through that stubborn, rule-clogged skull of his."

"So much trouble."

Sasha chuckled and took a seat, reaching out to drag Anton's napkin across the table with a finger.  "Somehow, I completely believe that," he admitted.  Abby's summary of the discussion he'd missed, along with the touch of color in her cheeks, made Sasha grin as he shook his head.  "Oh ... I'm not sure.  If you'd ever seen him on campaign, you'd see he doesn't have an ounce of paladin in him.  Bard, maybe.  His half-orc is a complete conniving scoundrel."

"Lies!" Anton protested, crossing his arms over his chest.  "Your elf is just pretentious."

Sasha sighed, took a sip of his vodka-laced beer and leaned over to try to add a few clarifying touches to Anton's poor attempt at his sigil.  He wasn't surprised Abby hadn't seen the water bear; it resembled a water bear the way South Park characters resembled real boys. 

"You aren't seeing any water bears because he drew some weird racing snail from Fantasia that lost its shell.  It's -"  He set his phone onto the table and quickly found a picture to show Abby.  "They're microscopic and I think they look like -"

"Mr. Phallic Symbol is about right," Anton piped up. "Symbol of your nightmares, I suppose."

An elf and a half-orc. Abby pursed her mouth, trying not to laugh at the picture of a troll-like figure singing songs in a tavern while a house elf in plate armor scolded him for disturbing the peace and making a mess. Wait, wrong elf. Elves in Sasha's world were tall and stately. But an orc? She wasn't completely sure what that was, other than being the rivals of the tall and stately elves.

Either way, the photo of the water bear clued her in. Microscopic! No wonder she'd been clueless.

"Nah," Abby waved away Anton's talk of nightmares. "A bear with fins and looking like this," she brandished her own napkin drawing in the air, "Is the stuff of nightmares. That is just," she gestured at Anton's drawing.

"That's the stuff of bawdy songs," she grinned.

"Hey," Abby said suddenly, turning her smile on Sasha.

"Very important question for you," she sipped at her water, and made the mistake of glancing at Anton. He was going to accuse her of geekiness again, she just knew it.

"If I were to ever play this game of yours - what is it called? Do-gooders and dragon queens?"

She gave him a teasing look. She knew what it was called! Or she knew before she'd imbibed so much alcohol.

"If I were," she went on, "Which character class would I be? It's open to discussion," she gestured to Anton and Sasha. "But wait! Some character backstory first."

She straightened in her seat and considered the beginnings of most adventure stories.

"Born of humble origins, the goat sheperdess spends her days sheperding," Abby laughed. Say that three times fast. "Goat herding! That's the word for it. Put your phones down. I know what a goat is," she grinned, nudging Sasha's arm. "Unfortunately, great personal tragedy causes her to leave her humble homestead and seek adventure in the city."

Abby raised her eyebrows, then waved her hand in the air. "No, scratch that. It's not believable."

Abby sipped at her water and tried again. "Of noble origins!" She adopted her sister's haughty tone mostly for Sasha's amusement and horror. "The youngest daughter is encouraged to make a good match and bring honor to her family after her older siblings cause lots of scandals. Instead, she sneaks away to the city to seek," Abby picked up Sasha's phone and held it out on display before returning it to him. "Certain technological advancements! You see, her family consists of great sorcerers but alas! She has no such talent. While they toil in their towers of wizardry, she frolics in the forest with the unicorns and makes friends in the city, relying on charm and wit and," she raised her glass, "sparkling spring water."

She leaned back in her seat and gestured grandly. "Possible character classes! Discuss."

"Abby!"  Abject horror flickered briefly across Sasha's expression followed by an equally uncertain and pleading glance in Anton's direction.  Obviously, she didn't know the risk she was undertaking; she barely knew the oldest Schäfer offspring so she had no way of knowing the seed she was planting in Anton's mind. 

Though, in all fairness, even if she had known, she might have encouraged it anyway.  In the end, it didn't matter.  What had been said had been said.  Anton, clearly, had heard it. 

"Bawdy song, you say?"  Anton countered Sasha's look of horror with a smirk before he turned his direction pointedly back to Abby.  "Bawdy pub songs about wrinkled old water bears that can survive space, fire and brimstone.  There might be some potential there." 

It was a shame they didn't have school to serve as a convenient distraction, though Abby managed to provide one of her own in the form of an Important Question. 

"If you were ever to play this game?" Anton repeated dramatically, clutching the front of his shirt in an overly dramatic near-swoon while Sasha pointedly ignored him.  Though, he couldn't avoid a grin flickering across his face. 

"Are you assuming I haven't already considered this?" Sasha asked with a slight smirk as he leaned back against the seat to listen to her backstory.  He'd intended to listen politely, without any commentary, but the ever increasing concentration of vodka in his glass of beer was working against him.  "Ah yes.  The humble goat herding Reids.  I can see them camped out in tents, now."  Luckily, Abby came to the obvious conclusion, even without his input. 

The true story was met with an amused snort as Sasha tried, and failed, to take a sip of his drink and had to set his glass down quickly.   Especially given Anton's murmured, "how is that story any more believable?"  If only he knew.

"Well, since I suspect this noble princess has mystical talents that family of hers just can't recognize, I wouldn't completely rule out all spellcasting.  Just, perhaps, a less conventional form of magic - like a bard's ability to enchant even the straightest-edged paladins with charisma and looks, alone." 

"Help!  I'm going into a diabetic coma!" 

Sasha rolled up a napkin and chucked it across the table at Anton. 

"But, in all seriousness, bard's too boring.  Besides, Abby seems too good-natured to spend her life conning people.  So ... bad bard.  Something nature-y yet badass seems more appropriate.  Shifter druid."

That seemed like a potential for Abby, though it seemed a much better fit for Moira.  Abby loved unicorns and dragons for a reason; he didn't quite see her running away to live in the woods.  Besides, that overlooked a key part of her backstory.  "Ah, yes, the iphone-loving Druids.  I can see it now.  Instagramming their wild jaunts." 

"I always have thought half-elf rogue, if we're going classic classes.  Or, gunslinger, if we're going full range.  I think you could definitely craft an awesome gunslinger character."

"That's your challenge, if you choose to accept it," Abby grinned at Anton. "I expect a bawdy song the next time I see you."

Sasha's horror was just an added bonus.

Aw, Sasha had already considered her character in the game! That was just - it was just very cute! She paused in her storytelling to give him a sappy, smitten smile. Anton's horror was just an added bonus.

As Sasha extolled her virtues as a potential bard, Abby demonstrated charisma by blowing a kiss his way and ignoring Anton's call for help.

"I'm not too good-natured! I'm a total prankster bard," Abby protested with a smile. "You were home half an hour ago, Anton, and now you're here. Pranked! Punked! Pow."

What was a druid? Someone related to Merlin? She took a moment to look it up on her phone, and had to add 'D&D' to the search to get the results she wanted. And a shifter was... oh, an animagus! She wished!

"I'm looking through the classes now. It's like online shopping - how much can I spend on stats?" She asked rhetorically.

"Oo, maybe I could have a dragon familiar if I'm a druid," Abby nodded at her phone. Sounded more interesting than the standard options. No owl, cat, frog or rat for her! "Are you calling me roguish?" She glanced at Sasha, delighted.

"Pow pow," she mimed gun-slinging by pointing two fingers in the air and getting the sound all wrong. Was she familiar with guns at all? No she was not. That wouldn't stop her, of course. The game had already started! The game was getting nerdy attention from Sasha and making Anton sick from a sugar rush.