"Well, you're as persistent as I anticipated!" Borthric says, his delightment in his new task apparent. "Don't be alarmed if ya start feelin' nostalgic, cuz I'll give ya hell an' twice more, horned one!" 
 Borthric downs an enormous gulp from his oversized flagon, unflinching. He wipes the residue from the alcohol on his furry arm, then resumes a playful sneer at Brakes.
 "You seem like quite the drinker - what was your name anyway? I'd like to have bragging rights and an extra something to discourage other fools who challenge me once I win. I'm sure it'll be quite something to a boaster's ear when 'e hears I've out-drunk the ale devil himself. That is, if you really are that renowned. Or, if you beat me - and yes, I'm acknowledging the possibility - I'll still have a story to tell, and I'll know who to rematch!" Borthric's luscious beard gets splattered with a few golden droplets as he downs his second mugfull.