|
"Bah," Krak growled. "I aint yer friend."
A fine spray of spittle left his mouth.
"A prop'r Dwarf don't become friends with the likes of ye. An' I'll be sure ta go fer the stinkin' biggest ones ferst.
Leavin' the leader. Hah! 'Sif I aint Dwarf enough ta take 'em all on. See the orange hair? Means Krak's a darn Slayer. But with yer wits that don't mean a thing ta ye, now do it? Bah!"
He abrubtly turned away from the elf and walked off towards a corner of the bar, though not before grabbing the ale the elf bought for him.
|