[h3]Martina Stonehammer[/h3]
"Oi!" It was the only response she could give Tyaethe, really, as the only knight even smaller than Martina immediately made a beeline towards the princess and began yelling really loud about the captain.  Humans were such hypocrites, weren't they?  After all, when Martina yelled the captain's praises that loud all she got was [i]"quieten down, Martina"[/i] and [i]"you're making a scene, Martina"[/i] and [i]"my butt isn't really [b]that[/b] big, Martina, stop talking about it please seriously"[/i].

Not especially wanting to fight with the undead knight, however, she merely quaffed back another ale.  She'd lost count of how much she'd drank, really; for a dwarf, any question along the lines of [i]"are you drunk?"[/i] was inevitably answered with three words: [i]"I'm a dwarf"[/i].

Some of the other knights had started an argument, but thankfully Martina was too far away to hear.  Dwarfs took tradition seriously, after all, and, well... She would've just started cracking heads together if she'd heard what was going on.  Still, it seemed to upset the princess, who had been dragged off by Tyaethe and was mumbling something about marmalade as they passed her and Fanilly.  But before she could make another off-colour remark...

[i][b]"...ASSASSIN!"[/b][/i] yelled the half-dwarf, louder and deeper than Fanilly could manage, her voice rumbling throughout the ballroom even as she ripped the hem of her dress (why was it so frilly?  She looked like a bloody [i]elf[/i] in this ugly thing!) and  nodded to the captain, before immediately giving chase.  The captain could take care of the princess, after all, but... But something as cowardly as an assassination attempt could not be forgiven.  The would-be killer would have to answer to justice, and she was going to ensure it even if she had to beat an explanation out of them personally.

Martina screamed out... Something rather gutteral sounding in dwarfish as she lunged towards the assassin.  Despite her small frame, she was half-[i]dwarf[/i], and underneath that nightmare of frills she was wearing lay a hard and compact series of muscle.  To put it lightly, she was quite a bit stronger than her height implied, and with this muscle behind her she proceeded to try and tackle the assassin to the ground...