Orduins opponent crawled from the ground, rising to face the man once again. That scraggly, bandit looking chest-nut haired fellow so keen to harm a man he knew not. With anger and frustration of his previous failure did he swing once more at Orduins stomach. It landed its mark, and cut open Orduins midriff. Blood surely but slowly leaking from his flesh.
Orduin brought his right fist through the air, in an almost downward strike to the mans jaw. Sending him sprawling once more. Barst was faced with the too-large for his own good, ugly fellow. Who swung at him recklessly. Barst gripped the hammer with ease, and brought his fist into the mans throat. Leaving him gasping for air, his hammer was thrown aside.
The Chest-nut haired man rose and was near Barst in that moment, swinging his blade to the mans shoulders. Orduins eyes caught him in the moment, and with a quick draw of his blade from his leather sheathe did he parry the strike. Locking the mans blade in his cross-guard before disarming him. The miscreant stood before Orduin, armless yet still prepared to fight. Yet Orduin slapped the man upside the head with the flat of his blade, sending him to the ground unconcious.
Both Alweard and Wrecca took care of their opponents swiftly, as trained warriors of the Maerc this was to no-ones surprise. The three were sprawling, crawling away. Yet Barst, had his foot planted firmly upon the large mans chest. Orduin told him to let him live, with the shame that he'd incur. Yet Barst did not listen, the large oaf heaved and wailed as best he could attempting to draw breath. Yet to no avail, until Barst withdrew his foot.
Stopping a moment to take any coin the man had likely not earned honestly. The four went unscathed, yet Orduin did not. Having need for Alweard to help him be patched up. He winced, with the alcohol stinging away at the freshly opened wound, and had his midriff completely wrapped in clean linens.
That night, did those ruffians learn the hospitality of the Rohirrim.