The Silver Crown transformed into an arena of sorts as tables were pushed aside to create a central space where the drinking contest would unfold. Marcus emerged from behind the bar carrying a wooden tray laden with matching pewter mugs, each filled to brim with amber liquid that caught lamplight like liquid gold.
"House rules," Marcus announced with authority that came from years of officiating such competitions. "No magical enhancement, no special techniques, no leaving the contest area until someone concedes or passes out. We drink round by round until there's clear winner."
Klaus nodded his agreement while studying the assembled crowd that had gathered to witness what many clearly expected would be spectacular failure on his part. Their skeptical expressions suggested most noble visitors to The Silver Crown possessed more pride than capacity when it came to alcohol consumption.
