“She wasn’t very bright, you know.”
The dwarf sitting next to Tuvolin gave her a scandalized look. “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Tuvolin,” warned Dirlum, “especially someone who’s your kin and who left you her gear.”
“Bah!” Tuvolin cared little for sparing people’s feelings. “What’s she gonna do? Climb out of her grave and punch me?”
“She died in Rappan Athuk.”
At this, the brash ranger frowned. “Ah. True.”
Tuvolin took a skeptical sip from her mug to cover her hesitation and hopefully change the subject.
“Bleh! This beer is so thin, someone might actually think it’s water!”