Tiny, for his part, suffered through it as best he could. Naturally, his preference would be to smash the stupid sword people's faces in, but he'd been ordered to come all the way up to the nest by his Master and so he had no choice but to do so. In his own opinion, the previous fight had been a magnificent success. Much face was smashed, many blows landed upon the enemy. Tiny had punched until his fists bled and wrists cracked, the rage within him all but spent. Yet the Master was more concerned with 'near fatal wounds' and 'catastrophic loss of blood', things that Tiny didn't deem nearly as important. Still, the master had heard that there might be a powerful set of armour on offer and so now here he was.