He didn't notice, just kept filling his mug and throwing it back, the pitcher enough for six mugs, and he was killing it all on his own. He just kept staring at the armor and cloak on their stand. "I didn't ask for this job. Just wanted to make the guild a bit better. But you kill the previous guild killer, you get his position. And I stopped the previous from killing the current guildmaster as he replaced the previous guildmaster. So I am stuck with this job, and the only way out is feet first on a plank, IF I am lucky. More likely, a short drop into the river. But who cares? No one."<br/><br/>He didn't seem to get as drunk as he should from killing a pitcher of beer, though from the way he pounded it back and down, he should be suffering from a hangover of monumental proportions. He just threw the mug down on the table, and then pulled the shirt that had soaked up his blood over his face, and fell asleep.