Knock, knock, knock….. knock,knock…knock.

Upon hearing the pointlessly distinctive and slightly jarring knocking pattern of the eccentric Firekin that waited for his permission to gain entry, caused a sadistic grin to creep up the side of Delm’s mouth. The poisoned pie was ready and he was eager to assume one of his old roles of interrogator… even if this will prove to be way too easy with the aid of the toad poison.

Ahhh nothing like a broken stick full of splinters that has been rubbed in salt to make a person sing like a Mentorsparrow, thought the Gnorkling with a happy little sigh at some sadistic memories. But the moment quickly passed as he schooled his face back to the usual “passive annoyance with a sprinkle of amusement,” that he usually wore for the villagers. It always paid to play your roles well, even if you don’t think of them as roles anymore.

The headman then lifted the lid off his teapot before giving the fine China a cursory little jiggly to enable the Fallridge tea to breath and refresh his welcome lounge with its refreshing scent. Definitely needs it with how that Hebdican came barrelling through with all his spicy and exotic mish-mash of spices that follows him about like some sort of deranged kitchen elemental, he thought with a sneer.

“Come on in mister Shivalteek!” he beckoned in his snivelly little voice.

The magical lock clicked open as intended before letting in the ebony coloured shopkeeper who glided in with his face sporting a winning smile.

“My salutations, ohh the wonderous Delm Loamwicker! Who even if diminutive in size, has such a character that he eclipses all lesser peoples! Such as my humble self…. and to what do I owe the infinite pleasure of being called upon by the glorious leader of our little paradise?” asked Shivalteek as he leaned on the back of one of the sofas before performing a scissor kick, even with his silky with robes on, before landing with barely a sound with his legs cross before him. The Firekin’s foreign and glittery three-pronged shoe tapping away as he beamed at Delm whilst he waited for his reply.

“Well it’s the usual Shivalteek, I’ve wanted to ask if you would reconsider letting me do the bookkeeping for your little shop so I can finally do everyone’s and have everything all neat and tidy,” explained Delm as he slipped straight into his lie. He then curled his gnarly little hand at the end of a fine velvet sleeve of his suit, before unfurling it to gesture at his fine tea before proffering some to his guest, “would you care for some of my tea?”

“Oh my fabulous and unbelievably generous Gnorkling compatriot, is it the usual Fallridge tea you often enjoy?” asked Shivalteek as he scratched his smooth hairless chin with illuminating smile on his face.

“Why all the other kinds pale in comparison once you’ve had it, so do you care for some?” asked Delm once more.

“I have to apologise profusely under the waning light of the night-bound twins, for I can never embolden myself to your lofty station by stealing your fantastical and bounteous beverage from such a fine Gnorkling as yourself,” replied Shivalteek in mock sorrow.

“So that’s a no?” asked Delm with a smile of his own and a tiny shrug as he started to slowly emulate the posture of the Firekin.

“As unfortuitous as it is my dear master,” replied Shivalteek with a bow of his head, with his smooth onyx dome reflecting the magical light fixtures in the room.

Oh such flowery words for an ex-member of the pyro corps, I know full well you’re just scared of the magically signature from the tea you see with your precious mage-sight… but your suspicions lies in in wrong place, Delm thought to himself wickedly whilst displaying an aggrieved face at his offer declined.

“Well would you perhaps like to enjoy a slice of my wife’s pie? It’s got some of this seasons first batch of Jellant-buds from our very own Joantack’s farm,” Delm offered whilst gesturing towards the pie that neatly sat on the table between them, already portioned into neat little slices.

His wife had brought it in earlier before cussing so badly at the mess that she had to clean up before she left. Obviously Delm immediately threw Xerneg under the cart so he would have a little surprise waiting for him when his wife returned to her bakery where he was gorging himself silly.

Then upon seeing the unsuspecting Firekin spout out his silly words and eagerly accepting his poisoned gift with a slice on one of his delicate little porcelain table dishes, Delm could only gleefully internally celebrate at another easy mission. His wife’s use of Gost’s skin secretions made the job too easy; considering how it was colourless, tasteless, undetectable by most conventional means and obviously was manaless and emitted no mana signature.

That was the reason why nearly all humanoids in positions of power feared the little tin-ranked creature and sought to find a way to eradicate their kind. Realms Delm had even given out his own batch of Royaltoad poison to his most trusted agent to assassinate an elder Wake Duke once, deep behind enemy lines in the land of the Throne. With the Duke in question at the helm of a sophisticated mage-trafficking circle. The whole trafficking and kidnapping operation had cost the lives of countless of the Union’s brightest minds for years before Delm finally put a stop to it.

The mission had been deemed impossible by many, considering how Wakes could easily read the minds of others, but his agent readily accepted the mission without a complaint. The Duke was assassinated as intended but the mission had costed Delm the life of his best agent and another person who was immeasurably important to the Gnorkling himself.

Oh what a powerful tool this poison is.. shame I’m going to have to rely on Xerneg now that Gos had… croaked all those years ago, Delm thought to himself with a chuckle as he watched the Firekin speak more gibberish.

“My mister Loamwicker, you are one of the most generous and kind-hearted humanoids under the twins and your wife is the best baker under all the stars to have offered me such a boon,” thanked Shivalteek as he brought the slice up to his mouth before biting off a tiny piece from the end of the triangular slice.

She’s not just a baker you fool, Delm wickedly thought.

He smiled before replying, “Oh it is only a small pleasantry I can offer to such a hardworking member of our village as yourself, mister Shivalteek.”

Then upon seeing the silly Firekin swallow his bite, Delm then swirled his fingers in a pattern on his armrest. It was to complete the mana circuit of the device that sat inside the armrest, which sent the weakest of signals to the other paired device in his wife’s bakery along some mana-conductive wiring. The result was to create a small flicker in the light that illuminated his wife’s bakery and to signal her to send the Healer back as agreed previously.

This was the most dangerous part of the interrogation, for the paranoid ex-Pyromancer with all of the training of the mage corps could possibly detect the miniscule mana signature and raise a fuss before he even had a chance to conduct his interrogation. But Gilbert had entrusted him that the device would be impossible for even a paranoid mage to be able to detect. With Delm being very inclined to believe the Scicidian that he had trusted for nearly two decades, for he had proven himself useful time and time again with his inventions.

Plus Delm owed the excellent ManaTinkerer a huge debt that the reptile did not even know of and a small bit of trust was the least he could do to repay him, for unbeknownst to Gilbert was how his wife had been the best agent he had sent to die on behalf of the Union.

To his own folly Delm had even broke protocol enough to establish a friendly relationship with Debra up to the point where they became close friends, which he made sure to never make that mistake again after that mission. It was considered to be the highlight of his career by many within the business of subterfuge and espionage, but one that he himself considered to be a huge personal failure.

But to this day Delm who considered himself a hard and callous individual would still be pained when he had to deal with the Scicidian who still believed his wife to be out there somewhere and enslaved by human slavers as was the debriefing protocol in Debra’s will.

“My I could never under the all the skies, express how delighted I am to be able to settle and live in a village that is so.. so immaculately and perfectly ran by a such a magnificent Gnorkling such as yourself,” praised Shivalteek before pausing for another bite of his pie.

Sighing with real annoyance, Delm assumed his role of the nosy annoyed village Headman that his wife keeps insisting that it’s not really a role and just who he is now.

“Then tell me Mister Shivalteek, if you think so highly of my administrative prowess, why do you not let me conduct the proper bookkeeping of your business? Why do you not let me take on your wife as an apprentice? My levels in Urban supervisor are so high that it has evolved to UrbanMogul and I have practiced Accountancy so reverently that I am now labelled as HeadAccountant by the system itself, and seeing as how your wife Deantharla cannot be a day older than thirty-three and thus would find it impossible to have risen that high in her own Clerk class, I fail to see how my credentials would fail me,” argued Delm as he settled down his tea before placing one hand on his slim waist and the other to prop up his huge with head by the chin with the aid of the armrest.

“My dear lord Loamwicker, I cannot deign to impose myself on you in such a way. Plus if I were so craven enough to do so, how will me and my wife ever level our own Storeclerk and Clerk classes?” replied Shivalteek with a smile. But unbeknownst to the Firekin was how some angry orange lines were beginning to crawl upon his dark skin and creeping up from the neckline of his beautiful white robe.

Seeing that the poison was displaying it’s symptoms and thus in effect, prompted the Gnorkling to speed up in his enquiries.

“How much money have you been making as of late mister Shivalteek?” probed Lem as he tested the waters.

“Twenty five gold, sixteen silvers and twenty two coppers in the last fiscal quarter after deductions from overheads and costs mister headman,” easily answered Shivalteek before a look of slight confusion came upon his face. For the Firekin was wondering why he had answered in such a way, without the use of his preferred descriptive manner of speech.

The Firekin then began to rub his fingers as his sense of feeling began to fade. But it was too late for the poison would rob him of his most of his feeling and free will before ultimately taking his life. That was unless Delm deemed his answers to be worthy enough to keep the secretive Shopkeeper alive.

Delm only nodded back in satisfaction, for he was quite close in his own estimations based off the purchases that were listed by the other villagers. The only discrepancy from his own estimation was for sixty nine coppers. Which also happened to be the cost of the cheapest sexual invigoration medicine and the same amount that was missing from Mr.Fendle’s bookkeeping that he has had no explanation from the Satyr woodcutter so far. He only smirked at the little issue that has been irking him that was now resolved before continuing.

“Now mister Shivalteek, can you tell me how much your employer is paying you to keep tabs on my village or certain individuals... say like, mister Brownwhisker our mutual Rancher acquaintance?” Delm continued. He was mightily impressed to see the look of panic that flashed in the eyes of the Firekin, that showed he was lucid enough to resist the poison for a split second. But the little flash was but a tiny fraction of a moment as the poison did its qork and killed his free will as it continued to creep up to the chin of the Firekin.

Having personally worked with the poison many times when he still had the female which contained the antidote, Delm knew that his time for questions was very short. About fifty five more seconds, he thought. Fifty four, fifty three …

“He pays me one gold per month and covers any and all needs for my business to flourish, and in the contract it is stated that I er… I am *huffs* to be paid five extra gold for anybody, body.. I need to kill to keep mister Brownwhisker or his family safe, with extra gold to be paid in.. in… cosideeraation,” the Shopkeeper struggled to answer as his lungs started to fail him. The poison was already crawling up his cheeks with the Shopkeeper having less than twenty-five seconds left to live by Delm’s timekeeping.

Hearing what he needed to hear and the clumsy heavy footsteps of the approaching Healer, Delm shouted, “OPEN!”

The magical lock unlatched as the Healer who was covered in crumbs even with his enchanted robes, miraculously squeezed through the door before asking, “So?!”

“He’s good heal him quick!” replied the Gnorkling hurriedly, for he knew he was about to kill the now proven to be innocent Firekin.

To his credit, the Healer asked no more questions as he rushed forwards with hands glowing in magical power. He then pressed both hands to the head of the Shopkeeper with his magical aura immediately flaring angrily. The Healer then closed all of his eyes in deep concentration as the green glow grew brighter and brighter.

The Headman waited patiently and nervously as the Healer carried out his work. For he knew through his own research that Hebdican-Transferral healers only exhibited the green light as a bi-product of their magic and considering that there was a miniature green star in his living room, he was sure the Healer was putting in a lot of work right now. This is going to cost me so much in food, ruefully thought Delm as he sipped on his tea to calm his nerves. Plus Xerneg is going to become even more immeasurably annoying to deal with after this favour.. think of the cheese Delm, think of the cheese.

But inside the mind of the callous Gnorkling who has killed many, a tiny bit of his consciousness knew he only did what he did to protect the Capyban and his two kids, having suffered the pain of a parent who has lost a child himself. I’m definitely getting soft like Beattle keeps reminding me, he thought with a sigh.

The fat Healer continued to sweat and shrink as his excess body weight was continuously used to power the healing that he funnelled into the heavily poisoned Shopkeeper. With many a tense moment passing as the orange veins creeping up further passing the Firekin’s eyes. It was already a testament to the Healer’s prowess that he was able to extend the life of the Shopkeeper who was supposed to be dead about a minute ago by Delm’s estimation.

But soon the orange markings started to slowly reversed as the Healer finally crossed the threshold where his healing power overwhelmed the poison and started to purge it from the Shopkeeper.

At this point the Grandmaster-Healer who was but one of three in the whole kingdom, was left as a chubby Hebdican with his robe hanging off his frame loosely. His jowl was quite unpleasant to look at with the skin hanging about.

“He’s healed,” Xerneg finally declared with a heavy breath before letting go of his patient. The Hebdican then wiped his brow free of the heavy cascade of sweat that left him glistening unpleasantly as he waited. He was intrigued to see how the events would unfold after what had just happened.

In the chair between the Headman and the Healer, Shivalteek was left breathing weakly and so pale that his skin was ashen instead of its usual dark lustre after he was on the precipice of death and dragged back by the aid of Xerneg.

“Great, thank you Grandmaster. You truly live up to your reputation for being able to heal a poison that very few in the whole world could not even fathom of carrying out the same task,” praised Delm before sipping his tea. “You may head over to continue to enjoy some more of your payment in my wife’s bakery as I conclude my business with the shopkeeper, and if there is anything you need from the Firefly.. by all means put it on my personal tab.”

The Firekin’s eyes bulged even as sickly as he felt, at the audacity of the Headman who still thought he would do business with the Gnorkling after what he had just done. The ex-Pyromancy then gritted his perfect teeth as he gripped the seat of his chair as he weakly sought to stand with his skin beginning to crack. The sofa below him was also getting singed as he pulled up his racial skill to aid him in the obliteration of the Gnorkling before him.

Delm didn’t even flinch but only gestured at the healer with a swirl of his hand.

“I don’t think I will leave just yet Delm, I want to be here to hear what else you two have to say… and I really don’t wish for you to kill the boy after I had just paid so dearly to save him,” spoke Xerneg before placing a firm hand on the back of the Firekin’s neck and pressing him down back into the set.

His hand immediately began to burn at the contact to the Firekin’s burning skin with the smell of the burnt Hebdican flesh quickly filling the room, but Xerneg’s hand flared as he injected back some more vitality into the Firekin.

Shivalteek was surprised at what the healer had just said along with the numbing jolt of invigoration he received, for the healer was making it clear that he would die if he fought the tiny Gnorkling here and now. So he was left gritted his teeth in frustration as he tried to work out his next steps.

“Oh most.. gracious of masters, why do you deem it to be worthy of your precious time to... indulge one such as myself with such a finely crafted pie?” Shivalteek asked with his usually jovial voice now dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t flatter yourself with such silly words to make yourself look smart boy. I’ve made a soul contract with Lem and needed to make sure that his family is going to be safe. AND even if it wasn’t stated that I had to do so, I did it because at least the Capyban trusted me enough to divulge secrets that many would kill for. So you can tell your master, Delmond if I am not mistaken? That his bloodline is safe in the care of Fallen-hand and his wife, along with the added protection of the Grandmaster-Healer Xerneg,” Delm announced casually with a wicked little smile.

“Who is this Fallen-hand you use to threatened me with?” Shivalteek shot back in anger whilst inside he was panicking beyond belief. Who in the Union hasn’t heard of the enigmatic Shadow-minister who went by the code name of Fallen-hand who would order the assassination of high profile targets from behind the scenes? He already knew the answer to his question was the Gnorkling that sat before him, but his trusty mage-corps training kicked in as he had to at least put on a little show so as to appear foolish and undermine the impression he had on these two, just in case he was unfortunate enough to come into conflict with them again.

“Pfft boy, don’t play the fool to me. I literally just told you my title boy, so let’s not waste any more time after I had decided to be candid with you Shopkeep. Here take this and give it to your master to pass on to Lem,” Delm replied with annoyance as he fished out his amulet before throwing it across the room. His weak physical stats and poor aim sent the amulet weakly bouncing off the table and onto the carpet.

But Delm’s mask didn’t even break one bit as he continued to uphold his impassively smug look that he put on for Shivalteek, who must surely be scared beyond his wits. Xerneg on the other hand was not easily impressed as he smirked at the Gnorkling’s failed little power-move.

“What is this gift you have handed to me, my good master?” asked Shivalteek without betraying any of the fear and confusion he now felt. His emotional mask was one that was forged in the theatre of war, yet it was a shame that his mask was now up against the owner of a hundred masks.

“It’s an amulet of Confiscution boy,” answered Xerneg as he quickly realised that Delm couldn’t really divulge the use of it without pointless twisting his words to circumvent the contract he had made with Lem. “It’s a blood bond artifact used to hide the class of an individual and will be needed for Nosal to hide his Unsung class, and quite a rare and expensive artifact with weak ones starting at around nearly two hundred golds. The one before you seems to be to be at least Corium ranked if I am not mistaken. So just keep the questions short and take the offered gift.”

Delm only nodded to confirm Xerneg’s astute little observation and as small measure of thanks for aiding him in the explanation. Meanwhile the Shopkeeper’s mouth was now hanging agape at the absolutely absurd fortune that casually sat on the carpet and was thrown poorly by the Gnorkling just a few scant moments before.

There was a moment of silence as Shivalteek considered his next words.

“Why are you helping my master in such a way if you don’t mind me asking?” Shivalteek asked seriously as his fear began to dissipate along with the receding cracks in his skin, but now he was starting to be gripped by the confusion of the situation that was spiralling beyond him.

Xerneg himself who had already removed his hand off the Firekin also tilted his head to the side behind the Shopkeeper, for he was genuinely curious.

Sighing once more in annoyance, Delm took another sip of his tea. For he was considering whether it was worth it to divulge to these two of his plans. But seeing no great harm in doing so, he decided to trust his instincts.

“You two must have wondered how a tiny little village in the middle of nowhere as so many high levelled Classers, have you not? Well excluding yourselves, most of the others are here through the machinations of me and my dear Beattle over the years. This is because I wish to amass enough influence and more wealth to buy a lordship as to make my own little slice of power, for the Union in my own opinion has become slightly… inefficient,” answered Delm.

“Ha! And here I was thinking it was just all for the cheese,” joked Xerneg with a little smile.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I wish for that too, for who doesn’t want to see Lem kickstarting a Tricorn cheese industry in Pancreedy?” Delm jokingly retorted with a sneer. “But more important to me is keeping my villagers safe, especially if we.. let’s say hypothetically, we were to have a have a new unique classer in Pancreedy and thus increase my own prestige?” answered Delm.

Internally he knew that by sharing this information he was taking a risk, but for the future of his own son he was willing to take it and share this information with the people before him. For he knew that sometimes a well made plan was better scrutinized from more angles.

Seeing the look of amazement that dawned on his audience and no little micro-expression that could be from internal monologue that could be spurned by something such as greed, made Delm know that he was already right to trust the character of the two. For he was nothing but a master in the regards of judging someone’s character.

“That is some awfully big plans you have there Delm,” Xerneg finally spoke after having mulled over the shocking declaration that Delm had just made.

“Well, that comes to the next part, Shivalteek, I wish for you to relay to Delmond that I require a loan of five hundred gold for the expansion of the Village, to be paid over the course of fifteen years and discussed further on his next visit,” stated Delm as he poured himself another little cup of tea casually.

“I, I shall pass on your words oh wise master,” replied Shivalteek and meaning what he said, for it truly occurred to him that he was now part of a situation that was beyond any of his own control.

“Thank you Shivalteek, you can now leave,” dismissed Delm before sipping his tea.

The Firekin to his credit only stood up to leave after carefully picking up the amulet with the new developments in his mind and his near death experience forgotten. For being close to death was something that a ex-soldier like himself was used to, but heavy politicking and scheming was beyond a journeyman such as himself.

“Oh and from now on, you shall submit your bookkeeping to me and would you politely ask your wife to report to me for her apprenticeship at her earliest convenience?” Delm asked as the Firekin neared the door.

Shivalteek only paused with his hand on the brass doorknob before sighing as he nodded before leaving.

“Where are you going to find people to fill all these new jobs you plan to create?” asked Xerneg as sat down into the recently vacated sofa chair with a grunt.

“Well I’m sure Beattle would love to do her own fair share of match-making for the young folk in her little ladies meet to help get more people here. We already have the Fem’s girls, that Timothy boy whom I really don’t want to be involved with if he’s working for that monster, along with the Tar’s boy, the Fellclaw’s kid and with the minotaur boy, but they’re guard kids that I’ve promised the Fellclaws to not to touch and therefore will have to exempt. The Brownwhisker boys are there if we need to subclass but I’d rather not use them and just put my hopes on the Fem girls instead. Plus I do not like to gossip but my wife has reason to believe that the Gneeples are expecting and we can count on the child for the future, but I’m sure the answer will present itself soon,” replied Delm with a sigh as his mask slipped as he divulged some of his information and finally letting the tense emotions flush through him.

Xerneg in turn could only shake his head at the crazy planning that was sure to be happening behind the scenes by the astute and unassuming Beattle.

The door to room then opened without the usual knocking as his son entered before bowing. For the magical lock was made to be blood bond to exclude Delm’s family members.

“I am deeply sorry to intrude father, and you master Xerneg,” spoke the boy as he gave a court nod towards his father then the Healer.

“It’s ok son, our business has already concluded so speak whatever it is that plagues your mind,” replied Delm with a soft smile.

“I am here to report that we have some new adventurers in town father, a very ragged bunch of youths.. probably not even past fifteen and a member of the Blades has already informed me that they are a bunch of Bronze rankers that are near Steel,” explained Dalm with his hands neatly folded over each other in front of himself. “Do you wish to draft up a work contract or should I?”

To the boy’s confusion his father smiled widely at the news and the venerated Healer snorted in amusement.

“I’ll do it son, can you send one of them over for a chat?” Delm asked as continued to grin wickedly with his sharp teeth gleaming wickedly.

“Um.. they are a little.. ill, having eating a whole bunch of mister Gneeple’s Brew-fruits that have left the whole party afflicted. I have deemed it appropriate and asked one of the Blades to provide them some purgatives and wish to list it as a minor chore on the Blade’s account,” apologised Dalm as he tried to hide his own little smirk.

Delm only had to make a quick glance at the healer before Xerneg answered, “send for my assistant and she will provide you with what you need, for one or all of the party I shall leave up to your discretion Dalm.”

Dalm quickly bowed before leaving the room leaving the two smirking wickedly between themselves.

“Do you happen to be a follower or a champion of the Goddess Fate?” half-jokingly asked Xerneg before chuckling to himself.

“No because I wish to have things under my own control and not throw my lot with the gods Grandmaster, you of all people should know how fickle they are considering how many you have to tend to before their untimely deaths,” replied Delm with his smile still on his face.

“Then answer me this, how did you find out about Shivalteek?” asked Xerneg.

….

The code has been sent through the encrypted level five communication device.

The Dolteeth has fallen but the raptor is down.

It was clear to the younger Shadow Minister who sat waiting in his office that Debra had completed her mission but was now compromised, therefore he deployed his son Benthur to her rescue without hesitation.

He waited and waited before news came back.

He was informed of how his son had used the last contingency and teleported back using the priceless teleporting scroll that was fashioned by the elusive time-hermit.

But the following news the he learned was one of the worst moments of his life, for his son had his mind scrambled and wiped at the very last moment just before teleporting back by the pursuing Wake High-Tentamage, Scerulag. With this news coming straight through from the words of the rescued but mortally wounded agent, Debra.

The mission was considered a success for the Unions secrets were kept safe with how the agents had avoided capture.

But that day Delm had lost a son and his best friend and a part of himself.

He place a gag order on all agents involved, before rushing over with a broken heart to the safehouse to assess the damage. There he had to put down his own son before asking all immediate agents to swear a soul-contract of secrecy even as tears streaked down his own face.

His agents Jessenhok the Strigian and Dering the Halfling that he had trained himself, readily swore to the contract without any hesitation. For they were well trained to not show emotion even as their respected master failed in his.

He then later returned to his office and let his mask slip to cry like he had never done before in his life.

Afterwards Delm then put on the mask that he deemed the most shameful one in his whole life, but a necessary one.

For later he lied to Beattle that their son was killed in action. Because he could not put her through the pain of seeing their beloved child rendered into such a broken thing after what Scerulag did to him.

And in regards to Debra his best friend, her last words to a nearby agent before she died that was relayed to him when he first received news of their return were, “Tell the Fallen-Hand to keep them safe, no matter the cost. He promised.”

He swore to himself that fateful day that he will keep Debra Coxswain’s husband and her child safe, unlike how he had failed to do so by sending his own son to his death.

A few weeks later and the Shadow Minister resigned.

Jessenhok was then referred on and successful promoted to become the next Shadow Minister with Dering as his deputant.

……

He still intended to keep them safe. Even If the Healer worked it out himself, he would not willingly expose the unassuming Gilbert.

“If you know what’s good for you Grandmaster, then do not follow that line of thought,” replied Delm with pure venom in his eyes for a brief moment before sipping his tea.

Seeing that there was no more amusement for the day and knowing when to stop pushing, Xerneg only laughed before he too left the room. This time he fit through the door with ease.