Practice of Telvanni Magic: Chapter 14, Dimwit

• Posted by Karver the Lorc June 12, 2017 - Filed in TSC: Mixed - #Straag Rod  #Lissette  #Karver  #Practice of Magic  #Grulmar  #Telvanni  - 2,015 views

  

  Apprentice's Assistant

  by

  Aramril

   

  No doubt you have heard tales of my adventures. Stories carried from province to province, all of Tamriel in awe of my feats of magical prowess. More than once, I am sure, you have thought, "If only I had Aramril's ability. Then I too could seek fame and fortune in magical duels!"

   

  It is true, of course. Great fame and limitless fortune await those who are successful. But to be successful, one needs to learn from the best. That is why you have purchased this book, so that I may teach you. I am, of course, the best.

   

  Here, then, is my advice. Follow it, and you too can make a name for yourself throughout Tamriel.

   

  1. To know your opponent is to know his weakness.

  Infinitely more versatile than a simple blade of steel, a good mage has a wide array of spells at her disposal. More than that, she knows when best to use them. She knows that frost spells can stop a charging beast, or keep a savage brute from swinging his sword. She knows that shock spells can drain her opponent's magicka. She knows that illusion spells can set a group of enemies against each other (should she find herself in a less than fair fight, an all-too-common reality when her opponents know they cannot win in single combat), and that there are spells that can save her in a moment when all seems lost.

   

  2. To know yourself is to know your limits.

  Even the best mage has a finite reserve of magicka; none born yet have been graced with Magnus' infinite reserves of power. And so a good mage does not over-extend herself. She makes sure she always has enough magicka to keep herself safe. Failing that, she makes sure she has a sizable supply of potions at the ready. Failing that, she makes sure she always has an escape route. Not that the Great Aramril has ever fled a fight, but of course you do not necessarily share her superb natural ability. That is why you must practice.

   

  3. Wards can kill (you)

  There is no question that wards are an essential tool of any aspiring mage. They can block incoming spells, negating your opponent's attack and wasting his magicka. A good mage knows, however, to not rely too heavily on her ward. Keeping a ward readied for too long will leave a caster drained of magicka, unable to retaliate, and at worst unable to maintain the ward and therefore become completely defenseless.

   

  4. Two hands are not always better than one

  Any advanced spellcaster has learned to cast spells with both hands, dealing more damage. There are certainly times when this is to your advantage, such as when an opponent is already weakened, or when it is likely to draw a bigger reaction from the crowd that has no doubt gathered to watch you. It is not always the best strategy, however. Concentration spells, for example, can often be used on the ground when an opponent is especially nimble. In that instance, using both hands independently can cover more ground at the same time. A mage throwing fireballs with both hands cannot immediately raise a ward to defend herself, or heal while she continues to attack.

   

  5. Always rise to a challenge, especially when you know you can win

  Remember that your first priority is, of course, to stay alive. Following closely behind, though, is your need to please the crowd. You are, after all, depending on their generosity to fund your exploits. Here, then, more than magic comes into play. If you can gain a sense of your opponent's ability before the duel begins, you can enter into the event with confidence. Knowing that you outclass your opponent is of great importance, as it means you can confidently give the crowd a better show. Likewise, knowing ahead of time that you could very well lose a duel, you are afforded an opportunity to suddenly find yourself engaged elsewhere, and be unable to attend the event. (By no means do I suggest that I have ever done such a thing; I simply find that my great fame occasionally means I am unable to respond to every single request for a duel.)

   

  Keep these few things in mind, keep your wits about you, and you too can make a name for yourself by putting on great displays of magical prowess. Take care, though. For if you become successful enough, you may find yourself facing a challenge from me!

   

  7th of Evening Star, 4E 203

   

  Talvas was frowning on a ring in his hand, rolling it in his palm. It was simple silver ring with no precious gems in it, but that didn't really matter. The ring was precious and he spent the past several days working on it. It had its purpose, but it just started as something to take his mind off thinking about his grandfather and what his arrival on Solstheim meant. He didn't want to think about it, he wanted to believe that Venhen would really let him go without trying to manipulate him. That was just an illusion.

   

  Just like Varona. She was bringing him comfort, but it was really only illusion, he knew that now. Sometimes, all that was needed was illusion, even though he knew what it really was. He still craved that illusion. Thus the ring.

   

  He rolled the small circular piece of silver in his hand for the last time and then got to his feet. Neloth was busy with reading some book and Grulmar was conducting more Illusion experiments on Mahti - who, honestly, was really enjoying it. At least someone is enjoying it.

   

  So Talvas levitated down the shaft and when his feet touched the ground, the door opened and Varona stepped in. He looked at her and frowned, avoiding her gaze the moment she looked him in the eye. He didn't step out of the tower for several days and saying that he was avoiding her would be an understatement. He wasn't prepared to face her.

   

  “Talvas,” she said, pursing her lips and then frowned back. “If I didn't know you I would think you're avoiding me.”

   

  Uh-oh. Straight to the point… He scratched the back of his head and tried to flash a smile, but if her expression was any indication, it didn't really work. “No-no, I...Just...You know-”

   

  “Uhm?” she folded her hands on her chest, waiting.

   

  “I was busy,” he murmured. “I had lot to process and what happened to you-”

   

  “Yes, what happened to me,” she repeated. “We haven't talked about that. You were running to save me or something, brought me back here and then didn’t speak a word to me. What's that supposed to mean? I thought you care about me!”

   

  It's a trap! his mind screamed at him, a carefuly designed trap to catch a foolish male victim into her bear claws so that the female could mock him and then eventually eat him. Yes, that's exactly what it is. He sighed and looked her in the eye. “It was stupid, V! Going out there alone. You know that the Ash Spawn come closer to Tel Mithryn every day and yet you went. Alone!”

   

  She narrowed her eyes and her knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists. “So it's all my fault?” she asked with a dangerously low voice.

   

  But he couldn't stop now, not when he started it. It was better for everyone. “Is it my fault you got yourself nearly killed?” he growled and then handed her the ring. “This is what I've been working on for these past few days.” She looked at it with confused look and he shoved it under her face. “It's enchanted, with a spell that summons a Storm Atronach,” he explained. “The spell already has a binding component in it, so the Atronach will obey all your verbal commands and it also has pre-imprinted command to protect you at all costs. Just take it.”

   

  She reluctantly took the ring and opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again, not really sure what to say. “Talvas...I-”

   

  Suddenly an Orc landed on the ground behind Talvas and interrupted whatever Varona was going to say. “Hey, ya two. Sorry to interrupt whatever is goin' on here,” Grulmar said, pointing up the shaft, “but Master Ego is ramblin' somethin' about Heartstones and how he really needs a few of them. Yesterday was late.”

   

  “Heartstones?” Talvas murmured. Heartstones. The apprentice hoped that Neloth wasn't about to use them for the experiments again, because last time...Ildari. He shook his head and put a resolute expression on his face. “Yes, Heartstones. We shouldn't keep him waiting or he'll turn us into frogs or something.”

   

  Grulmar's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait! Can he do that or were ya just bein’ sarcastic?”

   

  Talvas just shrugged and smirked. “You should grab your stuff. We'll be heading inland.”

  

  Grulmar and Talvas just left the tower when they noticed two figures walking towards Tel Mithryn. Very few actually ventured to Tel Mithryn so seeing anyone do that was quite a rare sight. “What now?” Grulmar frowned, squinting, trying to discern some details from the figures approaching. They were both wearing blue robes with hoods over their faces and staves, most likely made out of wood. Don't look like those cultists…

   

  “Oh no,” Talvas groaned and sighed. “Not again.”

   

  “What? What again?” the Orc pressed, but Talvas was just watching the newcomers approaching Tel Mithryn. Grulmar was now able to see they were both human, but that was pretty much everything, the blue robes obscured all other details - except their statures giving off they were men, not women.

   

  The one in the front raised his hand as if he was about to cast a spell and Grulmar prepared a Ward, just in case, but nothing like that happened. Instead, the man just threw his cape off his head, revealing long ginger hair hanging around his head, tied into a long ponytail at the back and a cleanly shaved face of an Imperial or Breton. “I am Farnstien Guliouche, apprentice of Thetandien the Mighty.” Then he grandly gestured to the other figure. “With me is Grynven Dente, also apprentice of Thenadien the Mighty, and we have come to Tel Mithryn to issue a challenge, one apprentice to another.”

   

  Grulmar burst out laughing which earned a frown from the Breton. Aye, it was definitely a Breton. “So melodramatic,” Grulmar wiped tears from his eyes. “I love it.” He looked at Talvas and tried to suppress another laugh. “Did ya hear that name? Sounds so tuskin' stupid!” Another explosion of laughter escaped his lips and this time, he even bent at the waist and slapped his thigh few times. His belly was starting to ache from all the laughing, but it seemed he was the only one appreciating a good joke.

   

  “We don't have time for this, Farnstien!” Talvas shouted back at the Breton, shaking his head. “Come back later.”

   

  “I won't be turned down!” the Breton yelled. “Everyone will hear about how the famous Telvanni turned down an official challenge, mark my words!” He kept on shouting and Grulmar just ignored it, looking at Talvas.

   

  “Ya know this clown?”

   

  The Dunmer sighed, sounding tired. “Yes, this clown shows up from time to time to challenge me to a duel, to prove that his mentor is better than Master Neloth. He always runs from this place with his ginger tail between his legs, but he keeps coming back.” Talvas then cracked his fingers. “Alright, I'll make it quick. Farnstien! I accept your challenge.”

   

  All that shouting drew out the other inhabitants of Tel Mithryn from their houses, to see what was going on. Grulmar saw Elynea walk out of her apothecary and her hand hit her forehead. “Not this n'wah again.” Ha, someone's famous around here. And not in the good way, hehehe.

   

  “I'm not talking to you, Talvas Fathryon!” the Breton shouted again. “I've heard the Telvanni now has a second apprentice, some Orc. I'm here to challenge him.”

   

  That got Grulmar's attention and his head snapped to look at the Breton in shock. “Me?”

   

  “Yes! YOU!” the Breton screamed. “Are you stupid or something?” He then looked at his companion. “Is he stupid?”

   

  “Someone shut up that idiot!” screamed Neloth from the top of the tower. “I'm concentrating and all of this… disturbs.”

   

  The Orc took a step forward and frowned. “Listen, matey, I have nothin' to prove to anyone-” he started and then stopped, re-considering what he just said. Why not though? Could be fun, especially if he’s the bungler Talvas makes him out to be. Good time to practice, right? “Actually, ya know what? Let's do this, Dimwit.”

   

  Talvas grabbed his elbow and pulled him closer. “You're sure about this? From what I understand you haven't faced a mage in a duel yet. He might seem little bit...crazy, but he's quite a good destruction mage. And I haven't seen you cast a single destruction spell.”

   

  Grulmar snorted. “Please, easy peasy.”

   

  Talvas just shook his head and turned to Elenya. “Would you be so kind, Elenya?”

   

  The Dunmer alchemist sighed and stepped forward, standing between Grulmar and Farnstien and she motioned both them to walk towards her. “Alright. Who's issuing the challenge?”

   

  “I am,” the Breton said solemnly. “Farnstien Guliouche-” Grulmar chortled with suppressed laughter, “- master of the Arcane, apprentice of Thetandien the Mighty.”

   

  “Do you accept the challenge?” Eleyne turned to Grulmar with a frown and he smirked.

   

  “I, Grulmar the Clever-Cutting Orc, Vanquisher of Bleak Walkers, Discoverer of the Aetherium Forge, Impregnator of Females, Exile of Largashbur-”

   

  “Could you perhaps shorten it?” Talvas peeped from behind him and Grulmar sagged. Come on, where would be the fun in that? But he decided that it might be better to quicken things a little bit, so he cut it short.

   

  “- and apprentice to Neloth, Master wizard of House Telvanni,” he mockingly bowed, “accept the challenge.”

   

  “Lovely,” Elenya rubber her forehead. “Who are your seconds?”

   

  “Grynven Dente is my second,” Farnstien said and Grulmar really had a hard time suppressing his laughter. This is all so ridiculous. But he decided to play along, just to have some fun.

   

  “Talvas Fathryon is my second.”

   

  The alchemist nodded. “Very well. The rules are simple. Whoever is left standing wins. You are allowed to use anything you're carrying on yourselves, with no spells - especially protections - being cast before the duel begins. If someone yields you will immediately cease all actions. Your seconds will now inspect you both to make sure you are not under some kind of protection and also to make sure your enchanted items aren't outside of the rules' boundaries.”

   

  Talvas went to Farnstien and Grulmar also touched the amulet on his neck, which revealed few enchanted items on Farnstien. There was a ring increasing his magicka, the staff was enchanted with some kind of shock magic, and the robes were enchanted to boost destruction capabilities. There were also rings that stored other destruction spells in them. Easy peasy.

   

  That other Breton walked towards Grulmar and scanned him from heels to forehead, looking at the ragged and bleached college robes, leather vest, bracers, as well as all the knives and darts. There was the hilt of a long knife sticking over Grulmar's left shoulder, two heavy knives under his left arm in sheaths strapped to the bandolier which housed another four knives. There was one small throwing knife for each boot, along with two rare silver Torvallian daggers in a double sheath on a belt behind his back. A gift from certain Altmer. Each of his bracers housed four darts and Grulmar saw how the Breton frowned. “What's all this?” he pointed at all the metal.

   

  “Fashion accessories,” the Orc smirked.

   

  “You look like a vagabond. Master Thetandien would have you flayed for breaking decorum,” Grynven Dente snorted before walking back to his companion, shaking his head.

   

  “Good thin’ I never heard of him then,” the Orc laughed at the Breton and Talvas frowned at Grulmar as he was walking back to him.

   

  “He has several enchanted-” the Dunmer started but Grulmar didn't let him finish.

   

  “I know, got my own ways how to see enchanted items. But do ya have any advice?”

   

  Talvas raised his eyebrows. “And you're going to actually listen?”

   

  “Most likely not,” the Orc shrugged and chuckled. “But ya can try.”

   

  “Is everything in order?” Elenya asked and both Talvas and Grynven nodded. Fathryon then turned back to Grulmar and leaned closer so that his opponent wouldn't hear him.

   

  “Listen, he prefers fire spells, but is quite proficient with shock magic too. His protection spells aren't anything special, but he can hold his ground. He is also quite good at Conjuration, relying mostly on Daedra like Clannfears and Hungers, but he's capable of summoning Daedroth too. So far I haven't seen him summon elemental Daedra but nothing's impossible.”

   

  Grulmar listened, his eyes fixed on the Breton who was looking back at him, listening to his second's advice - though Grulmar didn't expect the guy could offer any useful advice. The Orc wasn't carrying any items with powerful enchantments and beside being an Orc, they knew crap about him. So he definitely had the element of  surprise. “Easy peasy,” he murmured.

   

  “Maybe this will humiliate him enough that he won't ever come back,” Talvas pleaded.

   

  Grulmar chuckled. “Yeah, nothin' more humiliatin' than gettin' yer arse kicked in magickal duel by an Orc.”

   

  “True. Just try not to kill him. He’ll try to kill you, though.”

   

  Grulmar’s eyes went wide after hearing that. “Wait, what?” Suddenly, it didn’t seem like a really good idea. Nobody said anything about killing. Why did no one say somethin' about killin' right at the beginnin' of this bullshit?  “Can I withdraw? Please, tell me I can withdraw.”

   

  “Death before dishonor, my friend,” the Dunmer chuckled and patted Grulmar on his shoulder.

   

  The Orc grimaced while he was being pushed towards the Breton mage. “And how much dishonor exactly are we talkin' about? 'Cause I can handle quite a lot.”

   

  “Are you ready?” Elenya asked and Farnstien nodded, while Grulmar resolutely shook his head.

   

  “Absolutely not,” he said but it appeared that no one was really paying attention to him.

   

  Talvas and Grynven both walked a considerable distance away and Elenya looked at the combatants. “I want you both to take ten steps back. Only on my mark, shall the duel begin, and I don't want to see any spells cast before that. Is that clear?” Again, Grulmar shook his head and Farnstien nodded. They both took ten steps back and Grulmar was nearly prepared to start praying. Nearly. There was no way out of it now, so he had to play along. But he didn't have to play fair, right?

   

  Elyna raised her hand. “Ready? Begin!”

   

  Grulmar's left arm went to his left shoulder, pulling the long knife out of the sheath and threw it in one fluid motion he practiced over a thousand times, so fast that he doubted someone could actually follow his arm's move. The knife's hilt hit the Breton right between his eyes - and bounced off from a quickly raised flesh spell. Grulmar's eyebrows shot upwards. “I'm sorry?” he offered, but it seemed it only angered the Breton.

   

  A bolt of fire headed for Grulmar's head and his instincts told him to duck and roll over his shoulder. Another two bolts of fire followed and he twisted his body, dodging both and then he reached towards the Breton, casting a Fear spell in his direction. The spell was easily blocked by a protection spell and Grulmar cursed in his mind. Shit shit shit! Ya haven't really thought this through, have ya?

   

  A lighting bolt crackled between Franstien's fingers and then it cut through the air and Grulmar raised his Ward at the last second, using the moment to throw another knife in the Breton's direction which again harmlessly bounced off his flesh spell, and the Breton's faced showed only irritation. “Use magic, you fraud!”

   

  “I'll show ya some magic!” Grulmar growled and his right hand hovered over his left bracer, his mind reaching into the streams of magicka, immediately finding the one that was as heavy as the world. He tapped into it easily and the dart left its sheath,  Grulmar then shooting it forward with telekinetic magic. And the Breton underestimated him.

   

  The dart hit him directly in the middle of the chest and exploded with lightning. The Breton screamed as the electricity surged through his body and he fell on his knees. Grulmar launched another dart with Telekinesis, but this time Farnstien raised his ward, blocking the explosion of fire. “You said they weren’t enchanted!” the Breton screamed at his companion who shouted back: “They aren't!” 
  

   

  Bunglers. Never heard of elemental Daedra´s powder infused bolts? 

   

  Farnstien then summoned a Clannfear with a flick of his fingers and Grulmar's mind reached for his knife, lifting it up and shooting it right through the Clannfear's eye, making it disappear in gust of air. “I can do this all day!” Grulmar laughed maniacally, quite surprised at himself. Normally, he would already be running for his life, but these magical duels actually seemed like fun. Aren't ya forgettin' somethin'? The other guy's tryin' to kill ya, remember? Ah, yes. That…

   

  A fireball landed under his feet and he had just moment to cast a spell increasing his resistance to fire, but the explosion still lifted him from his feet into the air, making him fall hard on his arse. “Shit!” he cursed and got back on his feet just in time to avoid another of those nasty fire spells. This was really bad idea!

   

  Talvas was watching Grulmar running around, dodging fireballs and lightning, jumping up and down like a crazy rabbit and the Dunmer shook his head. The Orc just didn't have enough spells in his arsenal to make them count against someone like Farnstien - who wasn't particularly good, but he was good enough.

   

  The Breton summoned a Hunger this time and before it could take first step it vanished when another knife ended up in the middle of its forehead. Though you have to admit, the trick with knives and telekinesis is quite good. Even though the Orc was running around and dodging spellls, he was still able to eliminate any threat of the summons. But what good does that do when he can't even scratch his opponent?

   

  He heard excited mumbling behind him and saw Varona, Ulves and even Revus Sarvani - who he didn't see coming here - exchanging some coins between them and he leaned closer to hear their conversation.

   

  “Fifty golden hands on the Breton,” said Varona and Talvas raised his eyebrows in surprise. .

   

  “Deal,” Ulves chuckled. “My fifty Nerevars say the Orc is going to kick the Breton's backside.”

   

  Revus laughed. “You don’t have fifty Nerevars, Ulves.”

   

  “But I will have them once the Orc wins.”

   

  “He's not going to win,” Varona retorted. “Seen Farnstien plenty of times before. He might be crazy but he's a real mage. Not like that green-skin jumping around like a rabbit being poked by staff of shock.”

   

  “You'll see, you'll see,” Ulves mumbled.

   

  Talvas had no idea why was the Tel Mithryn's cook so confident in Grulmar, because he certainly didn't believe the Orc could win. Unless he makes Farnstien run out of all his magicka, but that won't help him much, because the Breton has plenty of enchanted items that will get him through the rest of the duel. And one can't dodge lightning forever.

   

  Speaking of which, the Orc just dodged another flash of lightning and then his hand glowed with a green light. Talvas suddenly had to cover his ears as an unbelievably high sound assaulted his ear-drums, making him feel like his head was about to explode. But he knew the sound really wasn't there, it was just an illusion, but an illusion that made Farnstien drop his guard and Grulmar used that opportunity to use Telekinesis to throw a rock as big as his head at the Breton. It hit Farnstien to the chest, and Talvas swore he heard a bone crack, the throw being powerful enough to carry the impact force through the flesh spell. A steady stream of lightning escaped Farnstien's hand, keeping Grulmar at bay while the Breton began healing his ribs.

   

  Well, I'll be damned. Maybe the Orc can really pull it off.

   

  He heard door to the tower open and turned around to see master Neloth walking out, the annoyance clear on his face. “What in the name of Divayth's pet Dwemer is going on here? Why must you make such noise?” He then noticed Farnstien releasing a fireball in Grulmar's direction who blocked it with a Ward this time and then continued with his dance of dodging firebolts. “Oh,” Neloth murmured, his lips now pursed in their famous Telvanni mix between a sneer and a smirk. “It's that Breton imbecile again. Why is he throwing fireballs in my yard?”

   

  “He came to challenge your apprentice, Master Neloth,” Talvas explained.

   

  “Did he?” The Master wizard narrowed his eyes. “So why aren't you duelling him then?”

   

  “He challenged your second apprentice, Master.”

   

  Neloth raised eyebrows and looked at Talvas with surprise. “I have a second apprentice?”

   

  Fathryon had to force his face muscles not to twitch and showed at Grulmar. “Yes. The Orc?”

   

  The Telvanni grimaced. “Ah. That one. He's my apprentice too, is he? Did I have my canis root tea that day when I accepted him?”

   

  Talvas nodded. “Yes you had, though you complained that it tasted nothing like canis root tea. ‘More like steeped underwear,’ were your precise words. Followed by ‘you have to fire Ulves’.”

   

  Neloth stroked his beard in deep thought. “Well, that explains it. And did I fire that Ulves fellow?”

   

  “No.”

   

  “I'm sure he has gotten better at making my tea by now, right? He certainly values his own life above all else, as well as working limbs that aren't turned to mud and such,” Neloth said loudly enough that even Ulves could hear him and then his eyes went back to the duel. “And why is he jumping around like a rabbit being poked by staff of shock?”

   

  “That's precisely what I said too, serjo,” Ulves peeped, trying to win the Magister's favor, but Neloth ignored him. Though Varona gave the cook a look which seemed like she was about to shoot lightning out of her eyes.

   

  “He's not very representative, is he?” Neloth continued. “What will people think when my apprentice loses in a duel? What do you think, Talvas? Should we cheat? I think that we can't allow-”

   

  Before he could finish, Talvas noticed how Farnstien's flesh spell ran out and disappeared in a flash of blue magical light. The Breton raised his hand to cast it again, but before he finished, Grulmar's hand exploded in a bright light focused in the Breton's direction. Even Talvas had to blink several times to get rid off the white spots in front of his eyes and he couldn't even imagine how it had must felt getting hit by the light directly.

   

  “My eyes!” Farnstien screamed in agony and Talvas chuckled. Alright, now I can imagine it. Grulmar charged the disoriented mage, his fist landing directly on Farnstien's jaw, sending him into the dust where he just remained, unmoving.

   

  “Well,” Grulmar released a gust of air from his lungs, gasping, bent at the waist and leaning against his thighs. “Who's the bungler here now, eh, matey?”

   

  Talvas heard the scribbling of a quill on paper and turned to Neloth, who had a levitating book and quill next to his head, his eyes squinting as if he was deep in thought. Talvas looked over his shoulder into the book and smiled. “Master Neloth? Are you taking notes on the use of Mage Light for combat purposes?”

   

  The book loudly clapped shut with the quill still inside and then disappeared. “Absolutely not. Why would I do that? I have seen that spell used like that a thousand times before.” He then frowned at Talvas. “Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else?” With that, he walked back into his tower with a loud bang of the door and Talvas shook his head.

   

  “Wohoo!” Ulves cheered. “I won fifty hands.” He was doing something that could have only been some sort of celebratory dance, with a small pouch in his hands, when the pouch left his hand and flew towards Grulmar, right into his opened palm.

   

  “Thanks for that, matey,” the Orc smirked.

   

  “But I won it…”

   

  “Keep sayin' that to yerself,” Grulmar chuckled and looked at Talvas. “So how was I? Awesome right?”

   

  The Dunmer shook his head and chortled too, the Orc's laughter being quite contagious. “There is still room for improvement.”

   

  The Orc grimaced. “Oh, come on. Why don't you just admit I got you all tricked with that whole playing incapable Orc?”

   

  Talves grinned in return. “Oh right,” he said, laughing out loud.

   

  “Ha-ha,” Grulmar poked him with his elbow. “Funny as tusk. Why don't we just go? We're supposed to be elsewhere, remember?”

   

  “Right,” Talvas frowned.