Cormac was the last to enter the meeting room, something he didn't need to notice for himself as Faetalis commented on his tardiness. In response, the large man let out a gruff, [color=0054a6]"Hrmph."[/color] Considering he had the largest distance to cross, shouldn't it have been expected for him to be last? Of course, there was also the factors that he hadn't exactly been sprinting up the flights of stairs, but he would argue that she should have been glad he didn't take the time to finish sharpening the blade he had been working on earlier before coming.

Faetalis would then go on to explain their new predicament. Not merely attacked, but transported, lifted off their previous plane of existence and plopped down somewhere entirely new. It certainly explained why they had received no warnings before the attack. As long as they still had easy access to things like water and coal to keep the Mór Brionnú running, he wasn't too concerned by the new location, but he understood the many issues that could crop up from this beyond his precious forge.

After everyone had finished speaking of the status of their respective floors, Cormac would do the same. [color=0054a6]"By comparison with everyone else's facilities, De Mór Brionnú is perhaps in de best state. Many of de pipes funneling smoke and such have become disconnected, leaving a lair of toxic smog to rest near de ceiling. Some furnaces completely collapsed and need to be replaced altogether, especially de larger ones. Most annoying of all though, my tools have been shaken from their resting spots and fallen on de ground. I've no clue where anything that wasn't nailed down is anymore and it'll take me hours to reorganize everything."[/color]

For a moment, he considered asking if he could borrow any of the staff from his fellow overseers in order to speed up repairs and reorganization. After all, he was the sole occupant of the Mór Brionnú. The idea was quickly shot down though. When he realized that they would most likely start organizing things through some insane pattern like size or function, it almost send a chill through his spine. No, he needed to put things exactly how he liked them, in an order that made sense to no one else but himself. Otherwise, he'd never be able to sleep at night.