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(In the village before Noc, amid the tables of the previous evening, several Ransallet villagers stand, aghast. Others approach from deeper in the village)

NOC: You get a lot of visitors here, living in these cursèd husks? You can’t remember the particular ones of which I speak? I’ll kill him. (Tightening his grip on Chendry’s straps) A once-Gleaner in a rotten little keep that can’t even protect against 1 armsman. The Corners would not miss him.

A VOICE: We know no such Gleaners.

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