Вилорп

→"Makri, I've got an office full of sick Assassins and Sorcerers and it's starting to get on my nerves. I'm not in the mood for you to hang around acting like an imbecile. What did Hanama say?"

→I've really had enough of this. I rise to my feet.

→"I can't remember."

→"What was it?"

→"Pardon?"

→Makri looks up.

→"What the hell did Hanama have to say!" I roar.

→She sits down on the couch. I try to ignore her. After a few minutes I glance up. She's studying her nails. I tap my fingers on the desk, and take out today's edition of the Chronicle. It's full of news about the winter malady. There's been a major outbreak in the north of the city and it's expected to spread. Makri's still studying her nails.

→"Fine," says Makri.

→"No."

→"Do you want to hear what Hanama had to say or not?"

→Makri looks frustrated.

→"It just is. And don't try and confuse the issue with some smart argument you learned from Samanatius the so-called philosopher."

→"How?"

→"That's different."

→"You were a soldier. You killed for money."

→"Tedious? This woman kills for money. It's a vile trade that should have been outlawed long ago."

→"Isn't it time you lightened up on this hating Assassins all the time, Thraxas? It's getting tedious."

→"Nothing an Assassin says is of any interest to me."

→"Stop pretending you're not interested."