[ He lifts a few books to one side, planting a thick, dusty tome in front of Charles; ye olde monster encyclopaedia, of sorts, already browsed through. Thranduil's attention returns in no short supply to the map, roving it pensively as he answers. ]
Orcs, trolls, witches. None of which I would dismiss in battle.
no subject
Orcs, trolls, witches. None of which I would dismiss in battle.
[ A nod of assent; yes, that is them. ]