He had heard tell the men of the Empire enjoyed the rain. That the soft pitter patter atop the roof and on the windows was soothing to them and lulled children and adults alike to sleep. Burundi envied their small minds, as he couldn't find the enjoyment in hearing water fall from the bloody sky. Whenever something fell from above in a Karak, it was something to steer clear of, not comfort you! Even he, being a Dwarf from Barak Varr and used to hearing the ocean. 

He had given the new Johan his equipment, keeping a small sack of supplies to himself. It was where he kept his storage of [i]Gal[/i] he had collected over the past seven years as well. Waddling up the stairs like an ornery bulldog, he almost raced to his room so he could better count the number of coins he had again. That quick shot of Vodka had tempered him, but with all of this racket outside he needed to see his gold to fully calm his spirits. 

So in a hurry was he that he nearly bumped into female manling that had just stalked out of one of the rooms, adjusting the strap on her revealing dress. Typical Umgi physique, lacking both the plumpness of breast and the rotund hips of a true woman. Her eyes widened when the Dwarf came down the hall in a low run, his hand pushing her aside. "Out of my way, flesh merchant!" He cried, and he heard her squeal and tumble back into the room she had just left when he was closing his own door. The muted argument that ensued in the hall was drowned out by the Dawi's desire of that most precious material.

Normally he wasn't that abrasive even to the Umgi, but what was known as the Gold fever had overtaken him. Carefully, he undid the thong on his small sack and pushed a chair forward, stomping over it and hopping up without grace to pour the Gold and Silver atop the weathered wood of the desk. It clinked enchantingly with weighted thuds, and he spread the coins out to count them exactly. Tonight he had spent one from his separate stash, but these were his 20%. These he would bring back to the hold to laud amongst his family. 

"Gal... Galaz... Bryn," He muttered, meticulously counting every peice while reciting a different word for Gold in Khazalid each time. For the next few hours he would be at this task, recounting them all a dozen times, and with the silver he recounted six times. In the morning he would remember knocks on his door, and a Brettonian woman speaking of 'complaints' from outside. But he could not hear her in the throes of his earnings, until he had regained sense of himself and decided it was time for rest.

He decided to go to sleep by counting the gold another time. 
 
By morning, Burundi Malgrimsson was downstairs at dawn, having eaten a breakfast of sausage and beer. Within minutes he was at the townhouse, standing there punctually with a Dwarfish disciplined that would be the envy of even the Rieksgard. Unfortunately, he realized almost a minute late that he was standing at the rump of the townhouse, foolishly thinking the sturdiest part of the structure would be the front. 

He cursed in Khazalid and all but sprinted around to the front, seeing the three men and the woman discussing the boy and what news Margueritte had gleaned out of him. He announced his arrival by saying. "Couldn't be [i]Grobi[/i] we're dealing with then," he said, letting them measure his words. "They'll simply eat you or butcher you without care. They've no need for pens other than to house their foul wolfish mounts." 

He spat a very solid looking blob of phlegm onto the ground for emphasis. 

If there were any looks of disgust, he didn't seem to take notice. The Dwwarf gestured with his weapon, nodding forward. "We taking the dog too? It's bound to become a Kazak out there if we're to bark at anything that scuttles in the deep wood." He counseled, not taking into account his own lack of subtlety when traveling. "I'd argue against the Kvinn coming along, but she's done more work than the lot of us."