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“She’ll never fall for it,” said the officer of the watch. “I guarantee it.”The officer, a tall brunette with rippling biceps and a two-handed sword, was as tall as most men, but she towered over Woody. This was because Woody was a halfling, barely three feet tall. He felt distinctly intimidated.“I am a bard,” he said, in a voice projecting considerably more confidence than he felt, “and you underestimate the persuasive powers of bards at your peril. This trick is going to work just fine. You park the prison wagon outside the castle at midnight. I’ll supply the prisoner.”========The trick, as he called it, was more like a suicide mission. ...