This Evening Prayer was mostly dedicated to foreign politics and import agreements, i.e, "what shall we do with elven traders", to speak simple words. Is was unusual how everyone agreed on the main purpose, descending into debates of details...- Kill them for reason! -
Thane spoke, striking the floor with her crutch- First seize their weaponry, then impale them with their own spears! -
added some random dwarf who've just came in.- Ehm, sorry, but... who the hell are you?
- Call me Fallen Angel the 4th. I got an invitation for today's Prayer mysteriously appeared in my room, and I thought that was yours.
- Ah, you're the famous legendary fisherdwarf. Come and join us. Serve yourself. Your coming has been foretold by many ancients scripts... The Chosen One! -
declaimed Tarnid with very deep voice, but couldn't help gigling upon seeing the face of newcomer. - Ah, nevermind, that's just a usual joke for any newbie. So, any other ideas on elven problem?
- I'd like to have a few of them for science. I've got a few hypotheses on their tree-loveliness and neew a test subject to prove. -
insinuatingly said Danman.- No, just burn the tree-faggots! We don't need them here in any form! -
was the response of Torvald...
Finally the quarrel resulted in a tour of Dwarven Contest, when the last debatant who drops dead-drunk wins. Well, in case he remembers the reason of debates and his own viewpoint on next morning...
Nobody noticed, but tribe of bloodmen at the cavern lake grew in numbers. Unsighted, they settle under the surface of water and wait for something...