Mark Spain Pure Elegance

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couldn’t feel much in his arm anymore, except in the hot dull way that indicated at least one broken bone, and he knew that two of his fingers shouldn’t be looking like that. He was sweating, despite being only in his vest and drawers. He shouldto one of Nanny Ogg’s bedsheets. The elf faces put him in mind of that. There were eyes and a mouth in there somewhere, but everything else seemed to be temporary, the elves’ features passing across their faces like the pictures on the screen.
They didn’t say much. They just laughed a lot. They were a merry folk, especially when they were twisting your arm to see how far it could go. never have taken his chain-mail off, but it’s hard to say no when an elf is pointing a bow at you. Shawn knew what, fortunately, many people didn’t—chain-mail isn’t much defense against an arrow. It certainly isn’t when the arrow is being aimed between your eyes.He’d been dragged along the corridors to the armory. There were at least four elves, but it was hard to see their faces. Shawn remembered when the traveling Magic Lanthorn show had come to Lancre. He’d watched entranced as different pictures had been projected on