[There is a great deal of moaning and groaning as the recording begins, sounding as if someone might be mortally wounded. Which no one, in fact, is. When Howl finally speaks, he sounds congested, hoarse, and miserable. Also hopelessly melodramatic.So we're finally moving on from that dreadful place. Too much bad weather and nothing to look at. Good
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You never know. Colds are tricky things.
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Drink some ginger tea! It makes you feel a lot better!
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Oh, it's much worse than it sounds. I'm on my last legs. It's a shame we won't get to know each other better now...
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Sir I think you'll live.
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[Cue hacking cough here]
...but I fear it's misplaced.
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This is much more tenacious than the usual cold. No, this is some horrific affliction carved from the bowls of Tulgim itself, just waiting to spread itself to the unwitting population.
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Pendragon. Wizard Pendragon. You'll have to knock, or the door won't open for you.
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