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”Phillie, my love!” Matthes crooned upon seeing her, blue eyes lighting up. ”Rat’s testicles but I’m please ta see you.” He pulled her under an arm. It smelled a little like armpit and wood stove smoke. Overall? Unpleasant. ”Would you tell this lunatic here an old man needs his Jerkey?”
Ethilde looked like she was halfway between killing herself, and killing him. This was a rather unattractive look on her, complete with wrinkled nose and snarling lip. ”Vendui, Philyra,” she managed with an even voice. ”We are indeed expecting someone- I believe that is him, over there.” She pointed to the dwarf as he approached, and her face went even more exasperated as he opened his mouth to speak.
”Carmelya’s glowing - that’s a good one,” Matthes commented under his breath, which smelled oddly of fish.
”You must be Hoskuld,” Ethilde said politely, looking like she was one lucky blood clot away from giving herself an aneurism. ”We will, indeed, be separating gear, including sleeping and climbing equipment. What have you brought with you?”
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