To anyone who doesn't know a serf is actually lower than a commoner. Think indentured servitude but without the guaranteed release after seven years. Well as traps go this one was pretty self explanatory; Morigan, and William were pretty evenly matched, I was betting on Morigan because he wasn’t known to pull punches, even in friendly bar fights here at the tavern. He was one of those guys that liked to fight that I mentioned to the gentleman a few days ago. If I accepted her bet, she would bet on William, and probably try something to make sure Morigan lost.

She was already halfway to being drunk, so what if I brought her all the way to dizzy land? That would prevent her from getting to William for the rest of the night, and most of the day, after that people would be anticipating the next bouts, and she wouldn’t be able to interfere with him without being caught. So I took a chance, played dumb, and said “I’ll take your bet, we’ll leave the money here with the bar tender, drink on it?”

The drunken lady happily agreed, and I had the innkeeper pour us some of his better stuff not wine, but black berry brandy. He caught on to my plan without me saying a word, and offered it to her in a wine glass. She began pouring it down her gullette, almost as fast as the innkeeper could pour, and for every drink I bought for her, she bought four I stuck to a few mugs of beer. She was sloshed before an hour, and I made sure that I was in the bar, in front of a lot of patrons making a total jolly ass of myself for everyone's amusement by the time that her retainers had taken her home.

The next day there were four bouts, the two most anticipated were the one that Morigan was fighting, and the one that Rick was fighting. All that day no one seen nor heard of the bitter want to be baroness, my plan worked. She actually showed up on time enough to see Rick just barely win. It was time for Morigans fight.

Morigan was decked out in well used hunting leathers, was wielding a common boar spear the kind you could find in almost any house around here it was a supremely versatile hunting weapon. He was going up against William, he was a former city guard, he was armored with a battered metal cuirass, and well used arming sword.

The bitter lady gawked at William, and her face turned red, apparently she forgot to do something the night before. I grinned at her, and gave her a hearty “Good Afternoon Lady Rebecca!”

She winced and was about to utter an epitaph at me, but I cut her off “Fight’s about to begin.”

At the signal Morigan began circling William, and William followed suit. Morigan wasn’t circling William to size him up, he circled William to kick a pile of horse manure into Williams face.

That was another thing I liked about Morigan he didn’t fight in a way that a lot of people considered fair; he fought to win. William threw up his off hand, and parried an incoming thrust, locked, and pushed Morigan back. To the cheers of the crowd, this was an actual fight, not just two blunt instruments pounding away at each other but two rather capable people looking to win.