[Salone]

Ylnjor attempted to scowl at her, but his face did not want to cooperate. After a time he rolled over, slowly picking himself from the ground.

"If I still have air left to keep it. A bet is a bet. Hel take me otherwise."

Ylnjor gave in to the pain without warning, and hit the ground once more. A fresh wave of agony washed over him. Pain was quickly replaced with rage. Hatred flowed through his veins, and with a great might he lifted himself from the ground, attempting to pose with some shred of dignity that he might still have. His face betrayed the seething bitterness that roiled inside of him.