Cormac was highly. Drunk. He did not know how he got where he was and only recognized three for the four other people present. One he wasn't sure he wanted the others to know he knew, and then there was Merri. Who thought taking Merri anywhere was a good idea. This was a disaster waiting to happen.
"I'm not doing this," he said in the surliest of voices and was on the verge of attempting to get up when he felt the hair plucked from his head. "Ow, no." Sadly, he was in no condition to actually retrieve the hair from the councilman at all. This was revenge for what had happened at the convention wasn't it? It had to have been?
"Can we talk out all the details before inviting not dead things to chase us down?" He might have been drunk enough to get dragged there, but he wasn't drunk enough to not want to know how to save his own skin. Hold salt water in his mouth for 30 minutes? Really? And people thought this was fun?