Why, none other than my cousin, Asliann the Bard, stands shouting. She's the last I expected to see here, especially doing something like that. When she isn't busy scratching out poems for nobles, she's usually got her nose buried in some worthless book.

"Your voice isn't loud enough, poet," I tease her, my voice easily conquering her own. "But I'll take your challenge. I'm no good at wits, but I can take anyone in here at arm wrestling."

Asliann steps down, laughing. "And now, cousin," I tell her, setting my sword down on a table, "are you going to show me a little hospitality and buy me a beer?"