Not that it mattered what kind of weapons his opponent were using; he wasn't wearing plate today, so he'd just have to avoid getting hit as much as possible.  As far as Kahl could remember, elven warriors were of superior dexterity to most others.  But against a bar of drunken civilians...well, they were just softer, skinnier Orcs.  A good pint of ale was about the same as having the same thick skin and half the brain of one of his brothers.

One of the Orcs ([@Claw2k11]) from his warband was standing next to him.  There might have been an introduction some time ago, but the names didn't really matter.

"The order said subjugation, right?  Do what you want."

That being said, Kahl wasn't going wait; he had spent years mastering the art of patience and cunning.  Today, he was going to embrace the fiery pain of an up-front skirmish, so he drew his blade -- a bastard sword equivalent for an Orc -- and raised it to block the first offender's attack.