Aldanith jumped off the table after him, landing on a great pile of gold beside it, but the coins, chains and jewels betrayed him. His feet sled beneath him and he collapsed onto his back. It was far too quick for him to do anything than twist his body aside a little.
His head hit the side of the table, and he sled onto the floor. For a short moment, dark spots danced before his eyes, and he delved into his hair with his hand, pressing the side that he hit on the wood. "Oh, f***. Never fight drunk..." he groaned.
"We can either take this as finished, or continue." he offered, grabbing the bottle of mead, that was somehow still intact, and downing what was in it.