[b]Robena[/b] The lady Sandsfern gives a joyous smile that shows off her fangs. "Now [i]there's[/i] the Robena I know, the great bear of a woman who thinks she can throw me! None of that dour face you were wearing when you came in here." She laughs, and the deep sound is the mirth of a woman who does not know the shape of fear and has no place for it upon her soul. It is the joy of flowing blood and tensed muscle ready to spring. Though she takes another stance, you can tell that she is not going to simply stay still and wait for your next move. She's going to rush you on your next move and try to match or exceed you in prowess. She's going to revel every time she overpowers you and swell with pride in any move where you throw her balance. This is not single combat as such, and indeed the lady Sandsfern denies any right you may have to make it so. This is a brawl between two opponents of great strength seeking to know one another through their approach to the conflict. Choose how you approach the match. If you seek to win the match in a decisive move, tell us how and leap into action. If you choose to endure no matter how the fight ebbs and flows, undertake great labor. [b]Tristan[/b] The tavern owner, careful not to move too fast and distract the two knights, makes her way over to you and leans across the bar, resting her elbows on the surface with all the confidence of owning the place and knowing that one way or another she's going to be paid for every chair. "You know them?" she asks, gesturing to you sipping your beer without picking up her arm. "You sure seem a lot more calm than the rest of these guests, to be enjoying your drink. Care to bet for one? I'll give you two to three odds on the fiery-haired one, up to five silver pieces." [b]Constance[/b] "Because you!" he raises his voice, and Cath Palug hisses, causing him to pull up short and begin again slowly. "Because...you are holding a very important sword that you are [i]not[/i] ready for. Because I made, or will make a promise to your grandmother. And because I am eventually going to tutor a very important king and that won't work out well if this kingdom falls into decay and splinters." He looks at you, and his hand is still on the box. He doesn't want to take it, you can feel that he wants you to take it. What do you have to say to this man? He is also quite clearly not giving you the respect you deserve and are entitled to. How does it feel to be spoken to thus, even knowing that this man is likely to become your tutor?