Rune suddenly realised that he had completely neglected to greet most of Barrow Downers attending the party, as he had been waylaid by Formendacil almost as soon as he had arrived at the premises.
He had always been easily distracted, and even though he had only a superficial knowledge of the finer points of dialectical materialism, being told Marx was wrong was too tasty a distraction to be ignored.
Wanting to make his presence known, and realising he had a reputation to uphold Rune raised his drinking horn containing mead and beer, and spoke loudly.
“Hail the victorious dead! Words cannot describe how privileged I am to spend this cold and clammy eternity among such admirable wights. If you will excuse me, I will now go and shout at a faint-hearted member bourgeoisie”
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Lalaith
Rune is my brother from another mother.
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