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The clanging of mugs and the mingling laughter of many different species rang throughout the common room, the humid air making many clothes cling to their owners' skin. Kagrune flipped a copper coin in the air, catching it a second later as it fell down back into his palm. He grinned, eyes trained on his opponent. A mug sat next to him, full of a dark, bitter ale. The worst-tasting stuff the place had, the goblin assured him. That was saying something for Booty Bay. "Alright, Kagrune," said the tall orc across the table, a wide smile across his face. His black hair was tied up in a tight knot, falling behind his head. He was a bit heavy set, his gut protruding from his torso like a green bubble. He wore a loose fitting red cloth shirt, which clung to his skin, dampened by the sea air. "we're gonna drain our mugs from now on. It's your shot. Pussy." Kagrune roared with laughter, as was befitting a Warsong orc. "Really, now, we're going to start draining our mugs? With this filth we ordered? That hardly seems fair." despite his talk, Kagrune was already aiming at the empty cup in the middle. In his head he was calculating the angle he'd need to throw the copper coin at the table to make it bounce just right. He flipped the coin into the air again, watching it rise up and down before launching his right hand forward to catch it in one smooth motion. He positioned it between his forefinger and his thumb, closing his left eye and sticking his tongue out. He stared at the spot before the mug, and, with his usual precision, hurled the coin forward...
...and watched as it landed on the edge of the cup, and continued to let his gaze follow it straight into the mug. A roar of laughter and cries rose up from the crowd gathered around them, all of them orcs, with the exception of a human or two. Kagrune pounded the table with his left hand and pointed with his right. "Drink it, Jormuk, you bastard!" came the boisterous roar from the short orc. The opponent, known as Jormuk, grumbled as he eyed Kagrune. He hesitantly wrapped his hand around the mug, his eyes staring deep into Kagrune's. Slowly they narrowed, Jormuk seeing his reflection in the blue of Kagrune's eyes. The crowd's cheering quickly died out as a frown fell across Jormuk's rough features. He lifted the cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving the blue pools that were Kagrune's. Then, he pulled his head back slightly, sipping on it. Jormuk then spat the rancid-tasting, watered down ale on the ground.
"You drink this kobold piss, Kagrune."
Kagrune's grin died with the words. "The rules are that when your opponent-"
"I know what the damned rules are. I'm not listening to them. I'm not drinking another drop. You can drink it yourself, ya freak." he growled the words, spitting on the ground again, this time closer to Kagrune's feet.
"You're breaking the rules, and your word when you agreed to this game, Jormuk. Are you really so dishonorable as to break your word over a game?" Kagrune asked, rising from his seat. He didn't exactly tower above his fellow orc, but he was muscular enough to be imposing.
"Drink it yourself, weakling." he grinned a toothy smile. Kagrune narrowed his eyes.
"You call me a weakling? Prove it in combat, then, Jormuk."
Jormuk grinned, as if this was what he was waiting for all along. It was clear he wanted a fight. "Fine. Durotar, tomorrow morning. Better hop on the boat, Kagrune. I'll see you there."
The clanging of mugs and the mingling laughter of many different species rang throughout the common room, the humid air making many clothes cling to their owners' skin. Kagrune flipped a copper coin in the air, catching it a second later as it fell down back into his palm. He grinned, eyes trained on his opponent. A mug sat next to him, full of a dark, bitter ale. The worst-tasting stuff the place had, the goblin assured him. That was saying something for Booty Bay. "Alright, Kagrune," said the tall orc across the table, a wide smile across his face. His black hair was tied up in a tight knot, falling behind his head. He was a bit heavy set, his gut protruding from his torso like a green bubble. He wore a loose fitting red cloth shirt, which clung to his skin, dampened by the sea air. "we're gonna drain our mugs from now on. It's your shot. Pussy." Kagrune roared with laughter, as was befitting a Warsong orc. "Really, now, we're going to start draining our mugs? With this filth we ordered? That hardly seems fair." despite his talk, Kagrune was already aiming at the empty cup in the middle. In his head he was calculating the angle he'd need to throw the copper coin at the table to make it bounce just right. He flipped the coin into the air again, watching it rise up and down before launching his right hand forward to catch it in one smooth motion. He positioned it between his forefinger and his thumb, closing his left eye and sticking his tongue out. He stared at the spot before the mug, and, with his usual precision, hurled the coin forward...
...and watched as it landed on the edge of the cup, and continued to let his gaze follow it straight into the mug. A roar of laughter and cries rose up from the crowd gathered around them, all of them orcs, with the exception of a human or two. Kagrune pounded the table with his left hand and pointed with his right. "Drink it, Jormuk, you bastard!" came the boisterous roar from the short orc. The opponent, known as Jormuk, grumbled as he eyed Kagrune. He hesitantly wrapped his hand around the mug, his eyes staring deep into Kagrune's. Slowly they narrowed, Jormuk seeing his reflection in the blue of Kagrune's eyes. The crowd's cheering quickly died out as a frown fell across Jormuk's rough features. He lifted the cup to his lips, his eyes never leaving the blue pools that were Kagrune's. Then, he pulled his head back slightly, sipping on it. Jormuk then spat the rancid-tasting, watered down ale on the ground.
"You drink this kobold piss, Kagrune."
Kagrune's grin died with the words. "The rules are that when your opponent-"
"I know what the damned rules are. I'm not listening to them. I'm not drinking another drop. You can drink it yourself, ya freak." he growled the words, spitting on the ground again, this time closer to Kagrune's feet.
"You're breaking the rules, and your word when you agreed to this game, Jormuk. Are you really so dishonorable as to break your word over a game?" Kagrune asked, rising from his seat. He didn't exactly tower above his fellow orc, but he was muscular enough to be imposing.
"Drink it yourself, weakling." he grinned a toothy smile. Kagrune narrowed his eyes.
"You call me a weakling? Prove it in combat, then, Jormuk."
Jormuk grinned, as if this was what he was waiting for all along. It was clear he wanted a fight. "Fine. Durotar, tomorrow morning. Better hop on the boat, Kagrune. I'll see you there."