It seemed they were at an impass, the woman wanted his help, and Martag had no intentions of willingly providing it. She forced his hand and Martag was not happy with her stubborn approach. He watched her eyes, her body language, the drinks had no effect on her. She appeared ready for a fight, but that did not deter Martag in the least.<br/><br/>With sudden force he shoved the table up and toward her, his second ale spilling in the direction of the woman. He was impressed with how she deftly pushed the table aside and avoided impact. Martag had risen to his feet, towering over the woman he smirked slightly as he closed the gap between them. He was agile, not light footed, but for a big man he had some speed, it was the Elven blood that flowed through his veins. "Rawwwwwwr!" He roared out as Maria looked on, fearful of the destruction her bar would take.<br/><br/>A looping right hook struck nothing but air as the woman deftly avoided him, but she was running out of real estate to dodge his attacks. Martag pressed forward until he caught her around the neck and drove his right knee up as he felt sharp pricks in his legs and arms. They tingled, "grrrrrr.... trying to drug me, paralyze me, it won't last long so you better make your shots count."<br/><br/>He felt his arms and legs stiffen where he stood. On his person Martag had little of personal value, it was how he lived his life. The small satchel on the back of his chair was a picture of his parents, the last one he had of them together, for it he would do almost anything. The paralysis was bound to wear off soon, five minutes tops, as he glowered at the woman before him and growled low.