a tall man with muscles looking like huge snakes.
"Speak," he growls at you, his voice as rough and cold as stone.
"Are you taking a census?" His powerful gaze is fixed on you.
"Yes, you know, counting people, taking down names..."
"That name is given to friends so that they may feel they are close to me."
"Since I have none, refrain from its use."
"That is a concern of the town, not mine."
"He was not fortunate. It is written that it is better to be fortunate than skilled."
"He, I'm sure, would agree." His face betrays a slight grin.
"All men have enemies. A debt needed to be settled."
"He hadn't the strength to settle it, so someone decided to take the initiative."
He pulls out a knife and begins to pick at his nails.
"Surely you don't buy the fable of the gargoyle."
"There wouldn't be enough left to bury if this were the case."
"This was no monster who settled the debt, it was the work of man's hands."
He brings the knife to his teeth and delicately works it between them.
"Have you ever seen one?"
"If you had you would not believe the fairy tales "being told by that incompetent mayor."
He grabs the knife and holds it aloft. "See this blade?"
"Their fangs are twice as long and thrice as sharp."
"He is a fool. The perfect man for his job."
"I don't know him."
"Too kind for his own good."
"An annoying little man. Makes good wine though."
"She is kind to me, and yet I believe this is genuine."
"Perhaps the wisest of us all."
"He is one to be respected. I have seen him fight, firsthand."
"He is a mighty warrior, as well as a just opponent."
He resumes cleaning his nails with his knife.
He ignores the question and you think it wise not to ask again.