Varrus walked into the hall and saw the state of the party. He saw Aundair fall from his chair, saw two others getting in a fight, and a bunch of others sitting around, drinking and chatting. He even saw a recruit trying to show off in front of his friends, it seemed he was going to try and convince a barmaid into his bed. He whispered in her, had a smug smile, looked back at his friends, and was blindsided by the woman's fist. 

"Well now," he spoke to himself, "this is mine kind of party." He strode over to the table that Aundair was at and snatched up a full tankard and drained it dry. "Ahh, much better, anyone got anymore?" He then pulled up a chair and poured himself another drink, "So, anyone wanna explain how the old man ended up on his arse?"