Emadgar, after some quiet pondering, takes a breath.

Dere aint too many tale-worvy fings dat have happened to me, I bin in lotsa battles, lotsa fights. Hmm. Dere was one time...

Once, when I were still roamin' der seas as a protyjay... Protaj... Stoodent of an old cap'n friend of mine, we 'ad der bad luck to come across a patrol of der rival corsairs.

We weren' doin' too well at der time, bin inna coupla bad fights. Now, we 'ad a ver' nicely made catapault on dat ship, der cap'ns pride an' joy which we used ta get a few shots in 'fore we got ta boardin' range, 'cos we was more of a fightin' crew than a shootin' crew. But we was outta der ammo's fer it. We was used to fightin' wid it, helped us soften up der targets. So, der cap'n says dat we runs away, an lives to fight 'nother day, like. An dat sits fine wid most o' us, as we likes breathin', and we can see's der ballisters 'n catapults on dat ship on der side from dere, dey be so big.

So we makes wid der runnin', but, see, der corsairs, dey be fasta, 'cos dey be built for speeds. So; we's runnin', and we see der enemy be gainin' on us, so we be gettin' worrieds. We be fink'in, "Maybe dis be der end, rights?", but der keptain, he gots his finkin' face on, der face wot he gets when he be finkin' real hard, and all of a sudden he says to me; "Jull, you be a loyal Man... Rights?", an' I says; "Yeh keptain, but so wot. I nots be a finkin' man, but I know you can'ts fire loyalty out of der catapults". And der Keptain, he smiles, and 'e says; "Jull, my boy, dere, you be wrongs".

Next t'ing I knows, I be flyin' 'cross der ocean fasta den any wizerds could. Landed right on tops of der enemy keptain, and, I reckon dat dey were pretty used to softenin' der enemies wid der side ballista's, 'cos dey wen' down fasta than wheat to a scyf, den.

I didn' get paid any extra for dat, neiver.

Jull smiles, his tale finished.