[b][u]Joric Ironfist[/u][/b]

Joric drowsily looked between the tavern keeper and the Duergar. He saw two of each of them, which meant he was vastly outnumbered. But even in his drunken state he figured that the tavern keeper's recommendation wasn't just a friendly request - it wasn't the first time he had been cut off from drink.

All he could do was bob his head up and down, in something that resembled a nod. A draw it would be. He slapped down some coin to cover the cost of his half of the drinks, and ended up overpaying somewhat. Then he rose to his feet on shaky legs, and drunkenly stumbled up to his room, his armor clanking even noisily than before.

[hr]

"Of course!" Darius said with a bright smile. He had fought with knives since he was a boy. But he had to admit, it took serious balls to challenge a man [i]whose entire body was covered in knives[/i] to a knife throwing contest. He couldn't help but wonder if he had something up his sleeve.

Nonetheless, he put up a confident front. "How much money are you looking to lose?" He asked casually, as he picked up another knife and began to line it up with the target.