[h2]Sir Roland Grey - Ethorian Sea[/h2]

While the blow to his head was enough for to disorient the Ethorian Knight, Roland was able to recover and engage Kace. His style was unconventional. He was trained, but it was unique, as Roland could see. After an exchange of blows, the two stepped back. Roland gripped his sword tightly as he gave the half-dwarf a subtle nod. Maybe out of some respect for his skill, maybe out understanding of the situation, perhaps a bit of both. Kace quickly went in for the second blow from above. This one was more anticipated from Roland, and the Ethorian prepared to parry.

That is, until Elric much more fervently intercepted and screamed for them to desist. Catskull, who had been lurking below deck until now, had made his presence known, and suggested a drink to settle everyone down. Roland glanced between Catskull, Elric, and Kace, before he inhaled sharply through his nostrils and exhaled. He sheathed his sword and scoffed. "It seems the Falkans never heard of a sparring session," Roland walked to the far side of the deck and sat on top of a barrel. He glared at Kace once more, before he stared off into the sea.

"Come, my lords," Captain Crewe called out, as he had witnessed their altercation, but had been silent on it. "It'll be two weeks until we reach our destination. Rest and relax. Enjoy some Raelusian Ale, liquor from Miraheim, Falken brew, whatever your heart desires." He gestured to the barrels close to him, which his sailors had already began to uncork in preparation for the knights.