“Seems a bit thin to me,” Otar said. At least Jocasta thought it was Otar. It wasn’t that the dwarves looked similar, they were as varied as any gaggle of students back in Andred, but they rarely refered to each other by name. It wasn’t clear whether this was a peculiarity of dwarven culture, or simply a result of extreme familiarity among this particular group. Without the reinforcement of the names they had originally given Jocasta had lost track and it wasn’t politic to ask Beren to repeat it to her in mixed company. Not, that the dwarves were exactly being polite as it was. The group was sitting on the patio of a tavern across from the forge, drinking mugs of ale from wooden tankards. It was pleasant enough, though Jocasta suspected the pubs chief attraction was it allowed the dwarves to keep an eye on their premises. There was no open hatred for dwarves in the city, but as outsiders they were liable to the target of petty crime ranging from vandalism to theft.

 

“You’re welcome,” Jocasta said in some exasperation. She had expected the dwarves to react with more enthusiasm to the news. Otar gave her a level look, though some of the others looked a little shamefaced at the lack of charity.

 

“It’s just, we’ve run down more prominent leads before and come up short,” Varin replied, his tone a little apologetic. The other dwarves nodded in agreement. Jocasta downed her ale and waved for another. She knit her brows together for a moment and then the irritation drained from her face.

 

“You’re probably right,” she agreed, a sly look coming to her face.

“Infact I wouldn’t even bother checking it out,” she said. Beren looked amazed at this sudden reversal in Jocasta. She smiled innocently as the barmaid brought another tankard of ale and swept up the copper piece Jocasta slid out of her purse. Otar looked suddenly suspicious. No doubt he was thinking that Jocasta and Beren might check it out themselves.

 

“Even if you found it you wouldn’t be able to open the doors,” Otar scoffed. Jocasta looked as innocent as a babe in the woods. Otar’s eyes flickered between Beren and the sorceress, his face contorting into a scowl. No doubt he was wondering how much knowledge a dwarf friend might have. No doubt the idea of a pair of humans looting a lost dwarf hold was anathema to him.

“Fine. We will check it out after the Founding day tomorrow. We have given our words to deliver the fireworks and another day wont matter one way or the other.”