"Your a strappin lad Soojy and yeah I'm pretty awful, perhaps we'll dance once I get out of here!"
"I can hardly wait."
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"You look awful pretty, elf."
"En the fellers?"
The large tattooed man laying on the sacks lifts his head. Those of you who have been here during the last week know him as Sooj. "Gobs. Shut 'em." He's sharpening crossbow bolts. |