"Hear, hear", says a grizzled Hanoverian, Guards officer as he rises from his seat and raises a shotglass high into the air over his head. "May your victories be many, Herr Leutnant French", he says as he tips the glass and consumes its contents in one smooth, practiced motion, "so long as you are playing toy soldiers on maneuvers with the other misguided followers of the Corsican fool, but I have to warn you, sir, that when you step upon the field against a fine officer of the Coalition, do not be surprised if your seeming good fortune takes a radical turn for the worse."
"To Leutnant French and the pompous Emperor of France. If it were not for the insatiable ambition of the latter to subjugate everything that comes within his sight, we soldiers would have no glorious wars to fight and would most likely be unemployed. And if it were not for the misguided judgment of the former to enlist in the lost cause of the Island Born Despot, we Coalition officers would not have a suitable place to charge the costs of our drinks today."
"Helga, please place my drink on the tab of the young Leutnant in the finest tradition of your esteemed tavern. It would not be wise for him to carry any coin onto the field of his first engagement in any case. Such transported wealth just makes the Cossacks more dangerous and aggressive."
