"Bottoms up!" Borthric too begins guzzling from the tankard after filling his enormous lungs to a capacity close to explotion. A few thin streams of gold drizzle down his beard and splatter off his chin as he drinks. He takes gulp after gulp, taking gulps much slower than Brakes, but from the enormous rhythmic bulges in his throat and the loud rumbling sound they make, he seems to be making gulps twice the size of Brakes's. After about ten seconds, though, Borthric's gulps seem to slow down, becoming less immense as he tries to stagger his consumption. His eyes begin to roll back into his head, but they stay there only for an moment. He resteadies himself, still emptying the giant pitcher. About a minute after he recovers, his gulping has slowed down quite a bit, and as his hand begins to shake, he sputters and coughs violently, choking for just an instant. Face red, he downs the rest of the tankard and makes an earsplittinging sound when he finishes the four gallons of ale. It sounds like an animal barking as Borthric strenuously gasps for air.
"What the hell!?" He says through gritted teeth, coughing some more. "There was something solid in my tankard! I think I swallowed it!"