"You can't read that thing," I told him.
"I'll figure it out," he roared back.
But I just sat there and stared at him. Dim and Peg shrugged. They were staying out of it. Not that I could blame them.
"It's my scroll, I found it on that body!" he said, a little pained.
"You can't read their script," I pointed out. "It's of no use to you."
"Look, Aleg," he said, "you're a good guy, but you're a wimp. I didn't see you standing guard at the keep and fighting all those skeletons. I got this off one I hacked to bits."
I had my doubts Grog had hacked anything to bits over there, but I kept my mouth shut. This wasn't going to help me. Much.
"Grog, nobody's denying you're harder than a bugbear with a few ales under his belt, but you can't read their temple script."
"And you can, Aleg? You and your tiny little snout? You can't even fight well."
"I've fought well enough for this gang."
"Yeah, from behind. Wouldn't surprise me you're a sneak, if it's true what they say about your grandpa and that human woman..."
My hand moved to my sword, but I cursed under my breath and decided to stay cool. This was my chance to get in good with the temple, and I wasn't giving it up that easy.
"You should just take it to Mace across the river, and then he'll be able to use it if those jerks to the east send any more thugs."
"What are you talking about? We made a nice example of the last six."
The door opened.
FOUR ORCS ARE ARGUING OVER A PIECE OF PAPER.