| Central - LAL |
| arras | faa in ilka airt, see, sodger |
| Central - LAL |
| arras | wull flee, ful monie wull dee |
| Doric - ABN |
ce an' a lot o' squiggles an' | arras | an' signs an' symbols, but na |
| Central - LAL |
a muckle bow an a wheen luve- | arras | that he’d shoot doon at mor |
| Central - NEC |
a? Naebody can kill that yin. | Arras | skite aff him. Swords jist ti |
| Central - LAL |
play team, the Thrie-Coloured | Arras | , bairged intil ilk ither owre |
| Central - NEC |
t and reddin up his sword and | arras | , he turned roon and mairched |
| Central - NEC |
brocht his sword, his bow and | arras | , his chib and the skin o the |
| Central - LAL |
Noo, aw thae | arras | that Eros had been dingin doo |
| Central - NEC |
it in ony wey. Nae chibs. Nae | arras | . Bring it back tae me unmalki |
| Central - NEC |
f ye brek ma stag, ah'll fire | arras | at ye for a month until ye lo |
| Doric - DOR |
e suburbs an unchancie thrang | arras | o weet wull faw histit bi the |
| Central - SWE |
bolts an | arras | buzzing aboot |
| Central - NEC |
cules fired a volley o burnin | arras | richt intae the monster's ham |
| Central - WCE |
His quiver indeed wis fu o | arras | , |
| Central - AYR |
His quiver indeed wis fu o | arras | , |
| Central - LAL |
airchers lat loose a volley o | arras | , ane hittin hame on a man's h |
| Central - LAL |
hrie airchers aw settin their | arras | up in aisy reach. Stoot Ragna |
| Central - LAL |
whaniver he felt like it. His | arras | didna hurt, but they fair cau |
| Central - NEC |
Hercules fired yin o his | arras | and it scuddit through the he |
| Central - LAL |
addies had been duntit by his | arras | as they dandered near Atalant |
| Central - LAL |
r flawn intae space. Eros’s | arras | were magic: they didna stap t |
| Central - LAL |
whan the neb o ane o Eros’s | arras | had scartit her ain breist †|
| Central - LAL |
in his fastest, maist sleekit | arras | at Atalanta for a haill year |