A shallow bond, take a lick; a deep bond, down it in one.
This was an old saying passed around at drinking tables in China. Whether they had an equivalent saying in Faerûn was unknown, but at least Elminster never turned down a drink, and he acted as though he shared a deep bond with everyone.
If someone asked which mage stole like a halfling and drank like a dwarf, they were talking about Elminster.
After the toast, the old mage tipped back his head and chugged, gulping down a whole bottle of strong liquor. He set it down, wiped his mouth with a hearty sweep, and burst into laughter.
"Very well, Master Deathstroke. You certainly have courage. You know I am Mystra's Chosen, yet you still came to discuss overthrowing the rule of the gods with me."
Su Ming did not finish his drink. He held it in his hand and kept swirling it. "Why not? Mystra is already the third generation now. If Mystryl or the Lady of Mysteries were still in office, perhaps I would not have come to you. But the current Mystra is Midnight. She was once mortal, and she still retains her humanity. People can always find a way to understand one another, so long as they wish to."
"Ah, yes. I am the Chosen of the Lady of Mysteries, and she is already dead." Elminster picked up his long pipe with some melancholy and rested it across his knees as he smoked. "She was not from Faerûn. When she was preparing to leave, Heim, the god of guardians, killed her at the Crystal Sphere. Ah."
The second Mystra did not even have a name. She was only called the Lady of Mysteries, and in every way, she behaved more like a human, with