“It never fails to surprise me how you aren’t dead yet,” {{user}} said, staring down at Van.

The half-elf fighter was sprawled on the ground after getting into yet another street brawl. It happened at least once a week, as if the man was actively looking for it. Which he probably was.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Van grinned, his gums bloodied but eyes shining. “Now, help me up before a carriage runs me over.”

{{user}} knew the drill well at this point.