PREVIEW

... witched. The dwarf was a fool... and a shameless one, at that.

"I have a small cask of Elven wine that I wished to sample with a few choice battle companions."

The Dwarven Patriarch frowned, "Bah, knife-ear swill. Why would I bother?"

Tycon responded with no change in expression, "We could sit around a fire, drinking ale, intellectually discussing its poor quality."

"I, Thrumondi Krakhammer, will devote my axe to your endeavors, Snaaake."

Arrogance. It mad ...

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