Fred Kiesche

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The Mouser grinned as he poked about with his gaze at the nastily slimed cobbles and the dead bodies and the scattered hardware. “Cat’s Claw must be here somewhere,” he muttered, “and I did hear the chink of gold.…” “You’d feel a penny under the tongue of a man you were strangling!” Fafhrd told him angrily.
Swords in the Mist (Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, #3)
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