[The Barrow-Wight]

The Barrow-Wight set down his still half-full glass of beer and stood quickly, pushing his chair back and stepping out into the aisle between tables. The Inn was so crowded that he had to forcibly move some standing people out of his way as he walked directly toward his apparently unsuspecting target. Amron started violently as he was grabbed on his left shoulder and spun around to face his elder.

“Young man, you have obviously failed to grasp the basic ideals we strive for in the Dragon. Haven’t you?”

Amron looked at him with an open-mouthed stare.

“Here in the Green Dragon,” the Barrow-Wight continued, pulling poor Amron towards the kitchen, “the idea is not to converse with the other guests, but to graphically describe yourself, your actions, and your surroundings. Kind of like a book. We don’t ask that you be a professional author, nor do we insist on gads of flowery prose, but we do insist that our friends gathered here put a bit more effort into their utterings than you have.”

Celebmornie watched with a knowing grin as she watched the Barrow-Wight pull the helpless man toward the stack of dirty dishes in the back room. She obviously remember the lessons that scullery had taught her. She suddenly felt insecure as he turned to her with a menacing glance. I’ll have to remember to talk to her about that dirty fork I was given just after she finished her chores. he thought.

He deposited Amron before a sink filled with warm, soapy water and surrounded by tall towers of dirty plates, pots and pans.

“The eating never stops at the Dragon,” he said, “and neither does the scrubbing. Start washing, and don’t stop until you have absorbed my meaning.”