The cleric looked up as the halfling emerged from the group of groaning, doubled-up drinkers. 'You took your time. Don't they serve minors?'
'Do I look like a dwarf?'
'I meant ... Oh, forget it. Sit down, you're making people nervous.' The cleric, who was travelling under the name of Father Mephistopheles, withdrew a well-worn book from his pocket and began turning the pages.
'Expecting trouble, Father M.?' asked Runt, clambering onto his chair.
'There's a dragon terrorising the town, Runt. Of course I'm expecting trouble.'
- Bowman Press, July 2012
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