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undemanding standards
of the Trolls. `Ever since the Elves beat us at the Battle of
Kirkweed Pass, there hasn't been much of a market in elves. If it's
really important, I can arrange an elf-napping for you, but I'll
need a signed order from the King, along with an Order number, a
Work Group, a Cost Code, and a Risk Evaluation report from the
Tactical/Diplomatic Bureau, as well as - ack!' Kargoon pushed
Bargeld up against the damp rock wall of the cells, with his staff
across the smaller troll's throat.
`Listen, short-arse. I'll be back after lunch. If you don't have
a fourteen-year-old elf for the King to poke by then, you are going
to be in serious trouble. And if you want an idea of what "serious
trouble" entails, just pop up to the battlements and say hello to
Battle-Captain Hirnsage. He's the one impaled on the flag-pole.'
With that, Kargoon allowed the Slave-master to drop to the floor,
and stalked out, slamming the doors behind him as usual.
* * * * *
M
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