It was after the market a week ago that I noticed some of my works were beginning to be missing from my stock. I hadn't noticed until the raid upon the lumber-camp some few days ago. A group of brigands encamped in the Chetwood came upon us like a pack of mongrels. I grabbed my axe and charged out the door, dazed in the midst of it while I struggled to realize what was happening. A man in leather had come upon me, I jabbed my elbow into his gut and hit him with the blunt point of my axe.
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a painted Dwarf
