"You can only say those Southern Men are really wealthy." Count Larot shook his head as he watched his peasant infantry gnawing on black bread with porridge, which was just a mix of some flour and a few vegetables and carrots: "Look at this supply, you'll know where the problem lies."
"Stop talking about those Southern Men, Larot, don't forget." On hearing the words "Southern Men," Durin immediately reacted as if pricked by a needle, quickly saying: "We've already pledged allegiance to His Grace the Duke."
"..." Count Larot realized he was somewhat speechless, nodded lightly to indicate his mistake, and stopped talking.
"Besides, this also presents an opportunity for us, a chance for the whole Musillon forces to reshuffle. You see, Larot, His Grace the Duke's terms are very stringent, which is bound to cause some dissatisfaction among the nobility; they're used to good times..." Durin whispered in his ear: "Do you understand what I mean?"
