Fletcher

Fletcher: Hey, you!

You: Who? Me?

Fletcher: You know damn well who I'm talking to.

Fletcher: Listen up: this bit of the camp is my patch. That means it's on me to keep clear of trouble.

Fletcher: Thing is, freshies like you just LOVE to make trouble ... 'specially when they're sneakin' about this time o' night.

Fletcher: And I swear, if I catch you in one of the digger's huts ...

Fletcher: You're here to pay your protection money? If so, save it.

You: Why?

Fletcher: 'Cause I'm not really here.

You: Where are you?

Fletcher: Huh... In the castle, at the hearth, drinkin' beer with me mates.

You: Then who am I talking to?

Fletcher: Missin'.

Fletcher: Thorus has me coverin' for him 'til he's back.

You: Did you know Nek well?

Fletcher: Uh, more or less. They tossed us in together, but he's been doin' his own thing for a while now.

You: What's keeping you from collecting his levies?

Fletcher: 'Cause he did a big round just before he disappeared. Ain't much left to get from those diggers right now.

You: About Nek ...

Fletcher: Huh?

You: I think I found him.

Fletcher: Did you now? Did he really turn coat?

You: No, he's dead. The molerats got him.

Fletcher: Really? Shit. He was a good man.

Fletcher: Guess I'm gonna have to take over this patch for good now. Innos praise ...

You: I'm still looking.

Fletcher: Keep me in the loop.

Fletcher: So, you're one of us now, eh? Good job, that was a fast climb. Welcome to the warders!

You: When was the last time you saw Nek?

Fletcher: What's it to you?