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Budi
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The Lock and Key.
In the bastard came from the rain, turning and stooping low. His shoulders dwarfed the head jam as the door thudded shut behind him. The reveling of the tavern hall died. All eyes focused on the taupe giant. Not the pigment or tusks of an orc, but the size of one he was. A step to his left and his head would dash the candle chandelier. The naked, bulky slabs of his pectorals quivered and showered water to the floor. A blithe grin cracked the intensity of his conic glare. He scanned the lubricated faces of scrutiny. Many little drunkards. Amused, perhaps, his thick third finger tapped delicately at the bulged pocket of his fur braies.
“Pip, Pip, Pip.”
Low mutterings of a monstrosity, though they would appear to hold some purpose. Many a patron wondered, others went back to their drink and gamble. But the giant was not done. He would require their attention.
“I WANT DORIAN!”
The booming rasp of announcement returned silence to the tavern hall. A pretty man in shiny armor stood with a wiry gent of tousled hair by a door, a door at the rear of the room. The pretty man was wary, but nevertheless, used four fingers to invite the large one over to the door.
This made the bastard happy. An unpredicted smile for fun. As summoned, Budi came.
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