Don't believe in no-win scenarios

Marcella's doing an excellent demonstration of the Disapproving Frown (TM) for his benefit: lips pursed, chin up, eyes steely, brows lifted just a little bit- and for a split second, she looks torn between Stern Imperial Disapproval and charging to the defence of her master's honor. There's a flash of fire in her glare-

And then a THUMP as Ushug slams her elbow down on the table. Cards and drinks are shunted aside with a sweep of her other hand, much to the grumbling of the other players.

"You leave now and I'm keeping the coin-"

"Shove it up your buddy's arse for all I care," she retorts, emphasizing it with a hand gesture that doesn't look polite. Ushug's not even looking: she's giving Harrow the kind of toothy grin you need two-inch tusks for. "All right, fly bait. You think prissy, pretty-faced runts are the only kind of elves there are? Come get a lesson."