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The smith looks fully answered-and indeed a little ashamed-after the phantom's speech.
Shaking his head sadly, he turns back towards Fordim.
"Well, lad, if ye want pain and sundering, let us have it in an orderly, well-forged sort of way. Let each villager stand forth and be questioned by the assembly."
Without hesitation, he steps, hard, on the shepherd's foot, smiling mirthlessly as the yelp rings out. "Well-volunteered, Master Hedgethistle. Now tell us-what exactly were you about last night?"
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Among the friendly dead, being bad at games did not seem to matter
-Il Lupo Fenriso
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