Byrnir scoffs



"Typical of an elgi to try solving every problem with magic..."



He then delivers an expertly measured tap to the chisel, and a wicked crack spreads up the wall of the warehouse.



"When all that's really needed is some good old fashioned know-how!"



The tunnel entrance sags, the sound of heavy stone groaning against the magical barrier of light. Tiny mushroom caps begin snaking around and out of the cracks between the light barrier. Byrnir grabs one of these stalks and violently rips it out of the wall and tosses it on the ground where it writhes like a snake for a few moments before shrinking and deflating. As the light barrier flickers and finally fades with a sound like shattering glass, an avalanche of stone and strong Dwarfen masonry rains down and completely clogs the tunnel. The goblin fanatics, their stench, and their multitude of wriggling appendages, completely lost from view.



"Shame about the grobkaz, but this is Ironbreaker work now, who knows where these tunnels lead to. I'll have to let the Thane know we're in need of a Grobkul."



Byrnir stiffens slightly as he realizes what he just said.



"Kruk... maybe a different Thane then." Byrnir grumbles to himself for a moment, seemingly forgetting Cirice is there, before turning to her abruptly.



"Suppose you'll be strollin' on from here eh elfling?"

“That’s a lot of information that I don’t understand…” Cirice laughs, “I suppose I might need to go, I’ve caused enough trouble here. Thanks for standing up for me when everyone was upset before. I really didn’t mean any harm. It was really nice to meet you, Byrnir. I hope we can meet again and adventure together.”

She looks at the collapsed tunnel and back at him. “This was fun! I’m glad I came here. I don’t suppose you want to go relax in a mud bath with me, huh new friend?”

She grins at him. He’s the first real dwarf she’s ever spent any time with and he is very strange and foreign to her, but that’s refreshing. New friends are the best!

Byrnir scowls, his beard wagging as he chews his words.


"Elfling, I'd sooner shave my beard than roll around in a puddle of mud with you."


His expression softens a bit and he raises an eyebrow as he cocks his head, as if something just occurred to him.


"I suppose your wanderlust and mudbathing will be taking you past the ruins of Karak Dramul. By my reckoning, you're decent in a scrap. I'll travel with you at least that far. Got some business there, and the ancestors wisdom is that two Dwarfs can swing four hammers. I don't suppose that makes much sense to you."


Byrnir makes his way back to the Hearthguard captain, and returns what Oathgold he was able to recover. Settling his remaining affairs, he prepares to leave the city, perhaps traveling with the elf girl, perhaps not.