[center][b][h1]Bork Valding[/h1][/b][/center]


Bork’s face wrinkled like an ill-used rag as he hung his cloak up to dry.  [b]”I don’t think you’re takin’ the right attitude here…Your Grace”[/b] he growled, only adding the style as an afterthought.  He turned back towards the abbot and stomped irritably towards the table.  [b]”I just had some ne’er-do-well throw a rock at me because I offered to pay him to do a job for *you*.”[/b]  The dwarf paused to let the import of that sink in.  At least, the import he thought it had.  [b]”Not wanting to work is one thing, but why would he turn hostile and throw rocks the moment I mention it’s for *you*?  There’s something you’re not telling us!”[/b]

[center][b][h1]Nelthurin Sebheon[/h1][/b][/center]

The elf beside Bork sighed.  [b]”You can probably thank the goings on with the Gold Tooths and Cat’s Claw for that rock, Master Bork,”[/b] he pointed out.  

Bork shifted his mistrustful glare to the elf.  [b]”What’s the thieves got to do with this?  People are mad because they think the abbot is ordering martial law and shutting down the port.  Why do they think that?”[/b]

Nelthurin sighed again, exchanging a knowing look with Andrew.  [i]He really doesn’t know[/i], it said.    [b]”There is reason to suspect,”[/b] he explained to the dwarf patiently, [b]”that it’s this new splinter group, this ‘Cat’s Claw’, spreading these rumors.  They’re the only obvious ones who stand to gain by shaking things up.”[/b]

[b]”Well, then, we have to put a stop to them!”[/b] barked Bork.  The elf nodded indulgently and looked at the abbot.

[b]”Easier said than done, though”[/b] he observed dryly.  [b]”Is there anything you know about the Cat’s Claw that might help, Your Grace?  To anticipate a question:  No, nobody new has come to me offering ‘protection’ yet.  That would be too easy.  So I guess the question is, what is to be done about this situation, Your Grace, and how can we help?”[/b]