Octavius, ever the fighter, carried on. The pirate lord was not about to give in to Ceres, not now that victory was in sight. He thought he heard her say something about him not beating her. That was further from the truth than he could ever imagine. How he could ever give in, the warlord had no idea. "Too'th lass! I gabble wit'ye! Fro 'Ell's hard! I sab ye! Fer hade's seg! I spid on ye!" the speech was less effective shouted through a drunken slur, but it gave him the strength to down another tankard's worth of ale and head for another without pause. Having no idea what number he was on now, the man figured he would just keep drinking until his opponent gave in, then he'd head to bed. [i]Victory![/i] the word screamed through his head. It was that, or death, he figured. Unfortunately for him, he was far too right, in that respect. Captain Cuttlam fought hard, even as his vision swam, and he struggled to keep his feet, fighting to stay conscious enough to keep drinking. Every second was a fight, but it was a fight he could win, if his opponent would only surrender. Except that she wasn't about to do such a thing. So even as he moved toward the keg, things started to go wrong. The ship rocked just the right way, and the Shotgun Preacher lurched past the keg. His unsteady gait, and intoxicated state, had him thinking the whole world was moving, and he wound up propelling himself off the side of the ship as he attempted to regain his balance.

The only thing that kept him alive was the rope that someone had carelessly tossed over the edge. Both ends were secure, and the loop in the middle was enough to catch his ankle, and arrest the man's fall from grace. Disappointment, and the sudden, violent motion, followed by an equally confrontational halt had the captain puking up his guts into the drink. He felt a lot better immediately afterward, and used the opportunity to fumble for his knife. He didn't want to abide by this ignominy, and as the blood rushed to his head, and the alcohol overcame him, he fought to keep just conscious enough to get the blade through the rope. He had no such luck, however, and quickly lost consciousness, hoping the sway of the ship might knock him loose and spare him the embarrassment of losing such an important contest...