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Not only is Lench, the Drenched Goblin, completely sodden from his thorough river dunking, and bruised from head to toe from being knocked about and swept away in the waterfall cavern - but this goblin is also hopping mad with indignant fury...
- THEY DUNKED ME!!! Several times! I was so brave, I revealed nothing during this brutal torture, Your Majesty! Nothing of the secret bargain you are trying to make with... I mean, nothing! Also, they killed your orcs! Who were unarmed! They killed my... (Lench suppresses a sob) ... my only friend, my furry duck companion, Sir Mallory Duckles. And they stole your gift, that... insane half-goblin woman who thinks she is an Elf. And now these treacherous thieves and murderers and torturers and liars are trying to trade you back your own merchandise, stolen from you! Please, please... punish them, Your Majesty!
The Troll King listens to this tale impassively. You have a feeling that he requires much greater tales of abasement and suffering to satiate his troll appetite, and that this pageant and litany of grievances does not suffice to amuse him adequately.