"Final count: 42."

Legolas smirked as he rosined up his bow and Gimli frowned, protesting one thing, then asserting the other, and you stepped up, cleaning your blade of orc's blood on a scrap of cloth you'd torn off a deceased enemy.

"42? You're certain?"

Legolas and Gimli both looked to you, the latter still smirking and the former raising both eyebrows at your appearance.

"It's not my blood, it's theirs," you murmured and the dwarf seemed assuaged. To your question a moment prior, Legolas replied;

"Of course,"

And your grin grew to match the confident, wry nature of his own.

"Ah, so close, really- 84 was my final count."

Both dwarf and elf's jaws dropped and you gave a laugh. Behind you, a groan was heard from an orc's body and you stabbed your blade through the monster's head.

"Make that 85."