The swordsman, pretending to have dropped a coin, crawled under the table to calm down and muffle his giggling, but ended up only laughing louder. Oh, the newborn Ternites who were in a hurry to choose a powerful sounding nickname for themselves. Little did they know that such a name held no power. The best names were given by people who spread rumors about you and your deeds. Only that these sorts of names were very harsh and unflattering.
“A schoolboy?”
“No, I’m a graduate. By the way, here’s my recommendation from a Mr. Fetch,” Hvord said and handed a rolled-up piece of parchment sealed with wax.
Mary handed the scroll to the swordsman, who was still laughing into his thick, black beard. “So, Mr. Hvurd, you’re saying that you can make it through the Fiery Mountains?”
“That’s exa
