Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-31049256-20180109050017/@comment-28358106-20180128030342

(Flame/S9/Table) The remaining Orcs pull up chairs and form a circle around the large group

"Marcus Jaghund? Pfah!  Marcus Jaghund!  Of all the people to be in the tourney, Marcus Jaghund!  Had I known he was going to be there, I never would have shown. It's a load of bullocks.  The man's an absolute monster, and he's a cocky ass to boot.  I might've fought him twice, and I might even do it again, if he weren't such a swaggering bastard.  Man thinks he knows everything about a blade."

Eothred isn't quite fully snookered, but it's clear the ale has loosened him considerably. Even still, he doesn't seem mad. He picks up his tankard and drains it.

"I gotta admit, it was nice having him on the team, but I get it," Rotha says, taking a shot herself and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Me and the girls got our contract with the Vantulos training the entrants. I'm not gonna say war is fair, but tournaments are another thing.  Gotta have balance." She lifts the pitcher and refills Eothred's tankard.

"You're a crack shot," Eothred says, pointing to Despoina's musket. "If we had a little more time to plan around your skills, we might've had a chance at the man."