Aldan

"Sorry," spits the old major, before opening his helm, "does not begin to describe the clusterfcuk that was that fight."

Aldan takes a look around the room, choosing who to accuse first. He decides to begin by jabbing a finger at Tosk.

"You! You do not go running in with no perspective, no back-up, and no plan! There is a distinction between a soldier and war hound which you bloody well just blurred!"

The irate paladin turns to his younger counterpart, "And you! Keep that damn shield up! If you can't put a damn board between yourself and a ghoul you better not expect me to do it for you!"

"And lastly!," Aldan turns on the cleric, "Would you feel more comfortable in a habit? There were three walls of steel and flesh between you and the icky corpses and still our support was around the corner playing with his dcik like a scared little boy!"

"Ready? This is nowhere near ready enough to be called a cohesive fighting force, and so help me Karrn I will whip you into one."

Aldan is red in the face by the end of his tirade. He reaches for the liquor in his pack and unscrews the top with a shaking hand.