Five meters of dirt laid between the goblin and the boarkin warrior.
Rizz picked his nose while pointing at Lobur's three lackeys standing just outside of the tavern's wooden porch. "So what'll it be? A four-for-one special, or do you plan to hog all the embarrassment for yourself, fatty?"
"Who're you calling fat, you shitty twig?!"
"Wow. So you can dish it but hate being served yourself. Talk about pathetic…"
"I don't need their help to snap a branch in half!" Lobur cried, pounding a fist against his chest. "Use those tiny daggers all you want. All I need is my fist to teach you properly."
Squinting under the low light of the porch lamps, Rizz switched his finger to his other nostril. "Yo, Kerl! Go grab this idiot's weapon. He'll need it for a fair duel."
Murmurs flooded the crowded patio.
