The Plump Cactus

[Flex]

"And why the bloody hell should I leave, pip squeak?" Brandon asked, eying Keith. "I ain't done nothing wrong."

[House Frey]

"Only a suggestion," he said, passively. Ah, a Bolton, he thought, eying the livery.

[Fel]

Mhig the Albino, the tall Qohorik guardsman for the tavern moved closer to the commotion, his hand on his axe.

Alario stood with a grin, he pulled out his sword and made his way over to the table until he was only a few feet from it. Loreza slinked behind him, a short sword in one hand and a dirk in the other. "I'm glad I can entertain you, Northerner. I suspect you're not used to life down here, where the women don't look like thick, ugly bears and men's cocks don't fall off from the cold. I suspect even a fat skull like you is starting to wonder what the fuck you're doing up in that gods forsaken wasteland."

[House Frey]

Keith was deciding which side of the conflict he would join, before shortly after deciding on neither.

He kept his weapon of choice at the ready, a dagger in the other, under the cloak. If they brought the fight to him, he would end it.

[Flex]

Brandon grinned widely at the man. "Tell you what, little snake. If you can best me at drinking I won't pound your skull to dust." He held his hand up to the barmaid. "That is until the tourney comes along."

[Fel]

Alario looked to refuse, then grinned. "It must be that nap I was having, but I think drinking you under the table would actually be more fun."

[Flex]

"Then get your sandy little arse down on a chair!" Brandon replied, grabbing his hammer and letting it drop to the floor. "The first round is on me! Barmaid, hurry the hell up! Men need drinks!"

[Fel]

Alario sat down and the barmaid hurried to bring the drinks over that Rufio had poured from behind the bar.

[Fel]

Alario laughs drunkenly as Brandon vomits on himself. He gives the big man a shove and pushes him off the seat, then laughs even harder.

"You Northerns... you can't handle the... the strong Dornish stuff!"

[Flex]

"Strong?!" Brandon roars drunkenly from where he lies. "That stufffth tastes like piss water! You should come.. uh... come up northth! We gots... ale there that... tastes like..." He paused. "Like ale!"

[Fel]

This was apparently ridiculously funny, as Alario began slapping his hand against the table and threw his head back to roar with laughter.

"I'll come up there... up there in that North of yours... and drink that frozen piss! And I'll still be the one sitting, and you'll still be the one lying on the floor covered in vomit!" He stood up and raised his spear above his head, but sat back down before he became unbalanced.

[Flex]

"Whatever you... you shhay you... you... what did I call you?" Brandon growled, struggling to get back onto his chair. "The uh..." He looked up. "Where am I?"

[Fel]

"You're in the gods damned snake den!" Alario said laughing, "and you've been bitten by our favourite poison!" He grabbed the big man's arm and leaned back in the chair using all his strength to get the man up the seat.

[Flex]

Brandon lunged forward into his chair and laughed. "Well... thanking you for that!" He looked down at his tunic. "Gods be damned, this was my beshht shirt!" He looked up at Alario with a confused frown. "And I never did catchhh your name, shhnake!"

[Fel]

"Alario Sand," he said, through half-closed eyes, "the Bastard of Yronwood!"

"And you giant... what do they call you?"