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Legaer had Pitrick to thank for his repulsiveness. Re-
cruited shortly after the untimely suicide of Pitrick's twenty-
third harrnservant, Legaer had felt honored to be asked to
serve as important a person as the thane's savant. It was no
coincidence that Pitrick always chose as his new servant the
most physically appealing of the forgeworkers. Pitrick kept
them prisoner in his apartments, using them as slaves and
subjects in his magical experiments. If his experiments did
not succeed in "accidentally" destroying their appearance,
eventually they would be killed or maimed as punishment
for some misdeed. They never lasted long; Pitrick grew
bored with them once he'd broken their spirit.
"Fetch me a mug of mulled mushale," he ordered the
cowed servant who dogged his heels. "And it had better be
exactly room temperature this time, or you know the pen-
alty!" Legaer bolted into the darkness. Pitrick made a men-
tal note to think of a new torture, since there was little left to
destroy of Legaer's face, and his ears had already been sliced
from his head.
Pitrick threw himself onto a stone bench before the unlit
hearth in the center of the main chamber
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