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56) “What do you know of it?” The warrior sneered. “You’re probably a fallen chip.” To call a dwarf such a thing meant he was dishonored by his clan, a chip of stone cut away from the architecture. It was a most unkind thing and usually led to a brawl. But Grimton kept his cool. He merely ushered us over and pointed to the beady little lights of a village. “Goblins.” He said.