Snippet #2735309

Prologue:
To start, the narrative eye finds itself in near-complete darkness, the only source of light being a lamp on a dark, ornate desk on the far end of the furnished room. It is positioned in a way that does not illuminate it's occupant - who is currently holding a sheet of paper with an appendage that, upon further inspection, resembles a little finger - but reveals the being on the other end. The latter could be described using words like "reptilian", "rat-like" or even "draconic". Not that it had scales of any kind, but it might have done. It instead had a sleek black look to it, as if made of runny black tar. Although vaguely humanoid, it's face was elongated and angular, it's mouth being a zig-zagging overbite over a lower jaw.
The thing behind the desk spoke thusly, "I take it you have news on the Chosen Few's whereabouts?"
"Yes, sir," rasped the reptilian creature, it's yellow eyes gleaming. "We have found a new world to conquer! Our spies have gathered sufficient information of the new land. It is known to the residents as Grand Gaia, stuck in a perpetual war between mortals and gods. Our spies have also learned that the Chosen Few have slain one of these Fallen Gods."
The apparition behind the desk would lean back on it's chair. "Very good, Quoth'thak. Your spies, as ever, never cease to amaze me. They wouldn't have impressed me further by informing you where the heroes are now?"

In a bar within the Agni Empire, situated in the continent Agni, five figures were, for want of a better word, singing in near-harmony with each other, one conducting them with his mug. There was a red-bandana'd skeleton, measuring around seven foot when standing up in full length, with a sword slotted in the back of his ribcage, it's blade expertly etched with runes. Further down was a pale-yellow cuboid figure, who was swaying his mug from side to side. He had a cybernetic right arm. Next to him was a bipedal sea-green duck, who had long ago passed out from a drinking contest with the local beggar. There was an odd stick figure, odd in the fact that, although he was two-dimensional and made of paper, he could traverse the third dimension without folding over. He was quietly leaning over his mug, trying not to make eye contact with the bystanders. Next to him, another skeleton, clothed in a purple bandana, a maroon jacket, a red patterned waistcoat underneath, black trousers and boots that looked like they were taken from an unsuspecting pirate whose clothier went mental with the straps, was apparently stone-cold sober despite the many glasses beside him and was watching his drunken comrades and singing along with them.
"Hey! Ho! To the bottle I go!
To heal my heart and drown my woe!
Rain may fall and wind may blow,
But there still be many miles to go!"
This was the third song they were singing. Between each was a moment of muttering when the three were trying to remember a) what songs people sung in bars and b) the lyrics to said song.