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"For ten minutes, no one said anything. Beshelar looked like he was reinventing most of Setheris's favorite epithets- with "moon-witted hobgoblin" at the top of the list- although of course his sense of propriety was too great to allow him to utter them. Cala stared dreamily out the window, as he had on the way to the Ulimeire, and Maia himself clasped his hands in his lap and contemplated their darkness and ugly, lumpish knuckles."
-The Goblin Emperor, pg 50
