Knights of Tezoth

Age is age, but it was hard to deny the Golden Coin's agility — a burly man unburdened by excess armor dashing nimbly across the battlefield, spinning in a dance of death. Not everyone could withstand such an onslaught, and even armor, as Catharsis had learned from her own experience, was hardly an obstacle for him. Alaria was in no hurry to expose herself to that whirling vortex of steel again. Instead, she kept a short distance between herself and her opponent, deftly stepping out of his path and sending a throwing knife after the spry old man, or turning to her healing flask. In the end, it was that very caution that brought her victory.

— You held yourself admirably, my lord. Many a youngling would envy your valor and agility, — the Tanarsian woman smiled and extended her hand to the old brigand, — and you did not forget your promise either. I have a feeling the scar you left will be finer than most. Thank you for such a splendid duel!

- I ought to get myself one of those wondrous flasks of yours somewhere — what's in it, scotch or vodka? - The brigand accepts her hand and rises to his feet. - Heh, we'll meet again at Bugurt.