"And kills foul-smelling creatures for entertainment purposes?"

"I think it's because their continued survival threatened his health, but perhaps it's also entertaining, at least the first few times."

"Sounds like fun to me, but perhaps he and I have different interests."

"Likely."

"Mm. What else haven't you told me about him?"

"Of course I'm not," he says. "Unless you count—" he smiles and shakes his head. "I won't do it, you know what I'm talking about."

"I do. But apparently it doesn't count, at least in the sense Bar can look at."

"Now I want to meet this legitimate dwarf, anyway."

"He's in the backyard, the mountainous bit. So are Miles and Ivan, waiting for him to come back - I offended him and he stormed off. They will be surprised to see you; possibly I should go along."

"What would you contribute to the situation?"

"Slightly increased expectability. If you'd rather go without me I'll continue reading."

"Going by myself sounds more fun."

"For whom?"

Ivan is passing the time, leaning on a wall of the cave, playing a game on his pen.

Miles, sitting against the opposite wall, yelps and scrambles to his feet.

"Ack! What is this, a convention?"

Mark cracks up.

"Mark."

"How'd you guess?"

"Your sense of humour is a clue."

"That, and apparently," says Ivan, wiggling his pen, "Linyabel said so, except I had notifications off."

"Ha."