<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Edmund Sullen  (Level 1 Spookamancer) <br/>LIV 1  BSH  1  SNK 1  LIK 1  WHT 1  RED 1  BLU 1  GRN 1  BLK 3  XP 1<br/>Healthy </span></span><br/><br/><br/>Edmund looked down at the page in frustration. Something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Not much time to dwell on that, though. A crowd had gathered in another area of the bar. He had formerly been much too engrossed in his poetry to notice before, and the crowd had managed to completely block his line of sight to what was going on. Edmund stood up, approaching somewhat apprehensively. He heard some shouts, some gears, and the swift smell of ale from the excessive quantities being brought out nearly knocked him over.  He perched himself somewhere near the back of the crowd, standing on his tip toes to see over everyone and at the figures at the center of attention.  <br/><br/>By now, the two were well in to the contest, and the bear of a barkeep was looking pretty…well, squishy. He slogged back and forth like an obelisk ready to topple, and then proceeded to go for six more mugs. <em>Must be some kind of drinking contest</em> Edmund thought. His opponent didn’t seem much too hindered by the effects of the ale, despite the drunken unconsciousness of the colossal barkeep.  Edmund snarled as his view became cut off by an absurdly tall figure. He stepped aside to get a better angle to see from, a brooding kind of look coloring his expression. He did not appreciate being interrupted. Who did these people think they were…getting in HIS way? <br/></div>