The transition from the chaos of the duel back to the tavern was surprisingly quiet.
Ignotus didn't walk away from the carnage; rather, he walked back into The Broken Mug with a bucket of water and a rag.
While Gorm's men were still processing their leader's unconscious state, Ignotus spent the next minute scrubbing the blood off the floorboards and uprighting every chair that had been tossed.
The owners of the bar watched him with wide, trembling eyes, expecting a finishing blow or a demand for their deed. Instead, Ignotus finished the last spot of grime, tossed the rag aside, and looked at them.
"We're staying the night in the best rooms you have. Free of charge, of course."
That somehow didn't sound like a threat.
"I fixed your floor, didn't I? I'm not a mean guy, you know... despite the fighting."
