Keg enters the quiet warriors hall and drops to his knees. Sobbing uncontrollably the dwarf falls forward and hits the floor hard, without even one outstretched hand to catch him. He lies there a few minutes then pushes himself up off of the floor.
Keg stares at the training dummy with a stalwart determination. Taking his axe in hand he stands and flies at the trainer, screaming at the mechanical contraption.
"Ancestor's abandon me, huh?!" *smash*
"Take my powers will ya?!" *Smash*
"I'll show you! We Ironspurs make excellent warriors!" *Smash*
After a long while the blows are still echoing from inside the hall.
His breath rattling in his chest the dwarf turns to see the half drake. His eyes awash in tears, he nods solemnly.
“Aye, a drink. That’ll do nice.” Dropping his axe and shield the dwarf suddenly looks as though their weight is too much to bare. He shuffles slowly toward the sworn brother.
“What’s all this nonsense about lubricant?” the dwarf raises an eyebrow.
As Kirell leads Keg toward the Hall of the Brotherhood.
"I find that Dwarves often need a strong liquid lubricant to open their otherwise closed minds."
Seeing the look of frustration on his face, before Keg can complain about his twisted words.
"That means I find your kind more agreeable when they are thoroughly inebriated, sir Dwarf".
Sitting quietly in the Hall that serves as the Brother Hood of the Bladed Gavels head quarters waiting for a visit from the Knight Grand Pillar, Kirell hears the sound of battle.
Jumping to his feet the Angori rushes out to see what is afoot.
Kirell stands at the door to the Warriors Hall and watches Keg.
"You seem particularly irritated with that dummy."
"You'll need a drink after that workout, Sir Dwarf."
"Join me at the Hall and the first 10 rounds are on me."
"I believe we have common interest and Ale is a great lubricant."