Braius lifted his head, his interest piqued. The human who had walked in hadn't struck him as a powerful warrior, though the blood had roused his suspicions. "Looks like this particular contest has ended," he said to his tablemates. The only one who replied was another Shantii who weakly raised his drained mug at him in what was supposed to be respect. The large man walked over to where the knight had thrown the corpse. Braius stiffened as he examined the body. "That's. . . impossible. Creatures like this only exist in the legends." An unfamiliar feeling skittered across his heart - fear.
He turned back to the silver-clad human. "You have three companions," he announced. "My blades should be of use on this journey, and they thirst for the blood of these demons." He gestured to the two katar hanging loosely at his simple leather belt. They were clearly made for someone of Braius's size, being large and heavy enough to require a two handed grip from most humans. The blades looked crude upon first inspection, being a bit misshapen and not having the crisp angles and lines of human or elven craftsmanship. However, they were strong, sharp, and decorated with Shantii symbols said to help a berserker channel his rage.