The door to the Warrior's Hall is kicked open by Taklinn and he moves to his room quickly. Mumbling to himself, he grabs his Backpack from his closet and places it on his small bed before going back to the closet and hastily gathering up his clothing. He carefully folds half of his clothing and packs it neatly in his backpack. He then goes to a dresser and moves it to the side before kneeling down and removing a stone from the floor that covers a small hidden compartment. He pulls out several small pouches and bags from the compartment and places them in the backpack as well before replacing the false stone in its place and moving the dresser back to its original place. He then grabs his pack and moves to the smithy, taking his belongings from there and placing them reverently in the bag. He walks back to his room and collects the last of his items; placing them in the backpack and strapping two axes to the outside of his pack and grabbing his greataxe from its perch above the small hearth in his room, and puts the pack on his back and heads out of the room and to the pantry to place a large amount of food and water into the backpack. Finally, he collects his shield and walks back out of the Warrior's Hall and down the road out of Jastrey without stopping or looking back.
As the dwarf strides by a section of the wall, a misty form of an empyrean creeps out from behind it. Victor materializes directly infront of the dwarf gazing down at him with a look of disapproval.
"Is this what your grandpappy would of done? Pack up his stuff and leave town? Just say to hell with what is right, let them destroy themsleves, let those who have nothing to do with the evil that was done suffer. Is this dwarven courage? Tell me, is this what should be done, or is this you running from it?"
Taklinn looks up onto the wall at the Empyrean and says, "What know ye of dwarven courage and values? I ain't gonna hear a lecture on what I am doin'. Sometimes a vein of ore that ye think is promising turns into a sandstone bed that is gonna fall in on ye if ye ain't careful. Better to just leave the tunnel unfinished than dig through the sandstone and have it all fall in on yer head. In me youth I may have charged headlong at all dangers tryin' to prove meself and gain fame, but I have moved past all that and will not be the rock to protect the beach from the waves fer these people. I will continue to fight evil, but me heart says that I have lived too long above ground, tryin' to talk sense into dolts that dont know that evil is bad. Ye still have me axe if yer cause is just, but I won't be party to seein' bodies desecrated afore me eyes any longer. Seek me out later when me back ain't bent, and me head has cleared itself lads" he says to Victor, nodding to Stiers as he walks down the road towards a mine cart and his dwarven friend.
Looking at the contents of the cart approvingly, and silently chastizing himself for not working as hard as his friend, he says "Ho there lad. Don't ye know that using a beast of burden is sometimes better than breakin' yer back? It appears that ye have fared better and bested me. I was just about ta go back out and try ta find some good veins meself. Been too long under the sky and with the distractions of "civilized" folk." he says sarcastically and spits into the dirt. "I'm thinkin' that havin' naught but stone about me would do this old dwarve's heart some good. I can offer ta help ye get this wagon inta town though if yer needin' a bit of help afore I set out." he offers, much more calm with being around another bearded folk.
Doran clasps Taklinn around the back in a manly hug and lets out a jolly laugh. "Don't be laddin' me ol' chum, I've been knocking boots with the twin bears longer than you've been picking quartz out of yer teeth. And what's all this business about beats of burden? Show me one around here and I'll put it ta work, but it won't be hauling carts or pushing rock. Show me a dwarf too weak to move around a few rocks and I'll show you one that need ta be hanging up his axe and picking up a pair of crochet needles and getting ready to step into the grand smelter."
Doran walked back to the cart and began to shove again. The old wheels squealed a bit as they began to turn moving the laiden cart ever so slowly down the road. "Not much but heavy gravel in this load, Taklinn. But that crazy longhorn was looking for something to finish his 'Dunderdome'. I figured I'd be nice and bring him some singing heartrock for the floor and make a grand coloseum out of it. Might be nice to see some lively entertainment in town? Perhaps we take a wager and see if any can stand up to a pair of old dwarves in the ring when it's done. I'll even fight with my beard tied up over my eyes and one boot unlaced." He punches Taklinn in the shoulder and laughs, "Wouldn't that be a sight old chum? You never did say though, what brings you out here so late without axe, cart, or light? You off running again?"
Victor watches the two dwarf chums talking and smiles a bit.
"Just wanted to make sure we weren't loseing a fine shield dwarf just cause of some foul magiks being weilded carelessly. I agree that they dig their own grave, and as long as they are the ones laying in it, it is fine with me, but I want to make sure that those who have no say don't get buried with them. For that you would be well needed. Go clear your thoughts, and remember there are people here that are still worth your axe."
"Aye Longbeard, I'm needin' to clear me head fer a bit. Me heart is tellin me that the rigors of livin' in a town above ground ain't really fittin' fer a dwarf." Taklinn says, his accent getting thicker as he talks with the older dwarf. "These folks about here have gone mad; they're desecratin' the dead in town proper and standin' about watchin' like it is an act in a carnival." Taklinn says, shaking his head to get the images out of it.
As he begins to push the cart along with Doran he continues, "They just seem to want to start smeltin' ore afore they've gotten it out o' the ground sometimes. No patience with these shortbeards, an' they just wanna see results without considerin' their course. Sometimes ye just have to take a step back an' think o' what yer doin. Ye can't build a structure without first plannin' and layin' a good foundation. These folks would build a tower in a marsh during a spring melt just ta watch it bury itself in mud the next rainy season I'm thinkin'."
"The beard grows heavy as the night grows long," Doran complaiend to himself while pushing a laiden mine cart down the road back to town. His axe, helmet, and lantern hanging haphazardly from the front shadowing his figure from anyone approaching. "You'd think I'd be better at judgin' the hour fer as long as I've been doin' this. I'd been hoping to make it back to The Shady Corners for an ale and a stout breakfast."
In the distance he's able to make out the shadowy outline of a figure plodding down the road, shield slung across one shoulder and a pace that looked like he was carrying something just as heavy as a cart full of rocks. "Ho there!" Doran calls out, waiting for an answer from the man, "It be dangerous to be out by yerself this time of night 'round these parts. Who be the man I see afore me?"