Raoul unsteadily walks off the field, bleeding in numerous places. After thinking for a bit, he shouts to the assembled nobles:
I fear this tournament was over rather quickly for my liking, and still I have not met the man to best me in combat.
Both Duke Alain and the Dauphin are to be respected as fighters. Each got the better of me at one stage, but neither managed to finish me off.
Thus an open invitation: I will duel whatever nancyboy has the guts to come and face me. As I have nothing to offer to he who does, I offer my services. I've said I'll only fight for a man I respect, and what better way of getting that then beating me in a duel. If anyone wants me, I shall be in the tavern!
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