Bocephus
Bo licks his lips at the mere sight of a silver coin! He's slavering so much he can barely talk as he chokes out, "Ida no, lemme fink...ah yeah, last winter it was I bleev. The story goes like this, and you can heers it sung as a song by the lesser good bards in Clayfields sometimes, *ahem* -- seems there'us dis dude. Good dude, 'n'all dat. He's drivin a wagon on the coldest night in Lauralie Summerhome in the past 50 years, and he's haulin' a load-a stoves. Good stoves, too, not them cheap'uns. 'Ne' ways, he has wagon trouble -- busts a spar 'n' cracks a wheel. He goes down. He's hurt some, but he might kin pull through if'n he gets sum help. So dis easy lass she flits by and sees 'im. Calls out for help, he does. She picks 'is pocket and leaves 'im lyin'. After awhile, a priest of Meda comes by, he cries out again. Priest is on his way to hear some other dude's confession and can't be bothered, so he crosses the road and goes on his way. Now here's where your version and what I heerd goes diffunt ways -- you heerd it uz a reglar dude next, and I heerd it was a ...." here Bo looks furtively all about left, right, up, down, as if he's trying to make sure that no one besides the Constables is listening, "wunna dem Dudes in da Bruthahood if'n ya knows whut I mean," Bo gives all a wink that would be extremely lewd if it wasn't so comical coming from the wee goblin, "You know, those Brothers, there's more than ten of 'em and less than twelve? Anway, this dude strips the wagon dude of every valuable left by the hoor, and then goes on 'is way, too. De Wagon Dude now has been froze, robbed, ignored, and had the last little bit of 'is dignity swiped. So he just ups and dies right there -- freezes to death right smack in the middle of a whole wagonload of stoves! The songs say that he diddun really die all the way, though, whutever that means..." Bocephus lets his words trail off into silence.
