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(Spondule is gesticulating frustratedly, with a stack of yellow bills in his right hand. Navichet watches him silently, just tall enough to look over the edge of the desk)

SPONDULE: I demand metals. I brought you good oldwork arms. What am I supposed to do with paper?

(C sits at the desk, making a note on a paper before them. They wear a head decoration similar to R. On the desk are the gleaned swords and other materials)

SPONDULE: Not even gonna be in this forsaken keep longer than a day! You get a load of this, Navi?

C: Ahem. These are hardly oldwork.

SPONDULE: Well. Whatever. You need ’em, right?

Comic Version