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

Bork’s forehead creased as he listened to Drom.  The dwarf didn’t know much about magic; he hadn’t cared to learn, in spite of the fact that it would probably have made his life easier in all sorts of ways.  [b]”So, are you saying that the bowl isn’t actually as valuable as Catlady and Silverclaw think it is?”[/b] he asked.  He scratched his beard and thought.  He was hanging by a thread here.  These sorts of problems weren’t the kind he had come to Pigeon Spit to work on, yet they seemed to be piling unbidden into his lap.

[b]”Treason, eh?”[/b] he asked.  [b]”Seems a bit harsh.”[/b]  He scratched a bit more.  If Silverclaw had intended to harm him, that made him an enemy.  Period.  His reasons, and whether those reasons still held, were irrelevant.  Working with him was out of the question.  But did Bork want revenge?  He didn’t feel that, as he had never actually seen the alleged attack.  Nonetheless, this Silverclaw was bad news, and Bork preferred the idea that he still thought he was in danger.

Shaking his head, he pushed the bowl back to Drom.  He heaved a regretful sigh as he did; Roswitha would have really liked those gems.  [b]”I don’t want these people as allies,”[/b] he answered.  [b]”I want them to go away, one way or another.”[/b]  He shot the elf a grim look.  [b]”I guess I’ll have to design a scaffold now.”[/b]

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

Nelthurin shrugged.  [b]”I’m all in favor of sitting down and talking.  Not sure our engineer is a suitable principal, though.  He neither knows nor is comfortable with this sort of business, from what I can tell.  He’d probably also prefer to spend the time with his designs.”[/b]  The elf smirked and shook his head.  Bork could draw, he’d give him that.  He hadn’t seen the dwarf build anything yet, but he was sure he could.  He was a dwarf, right?