"Hrnhrnhrn," he laughed from his belly as he poured Altov a drink from a fine oaken cask studded with obsidian and stamped with the Aleheart sigil. "Twas the Aleheart's belief tha' one could conquer the darker side's of a man's hear' through his thirst. Heh. Poor devil. A shame wha' became of...
He sat patient as time's turning as the Illusionist spoke of his device. His eyes the color of stone darted between he and his construct which held on to a device he didn't want to lay eyes upon. Within the Deepvaults, there were a great many items that might tempt a dwarf. He'd heard it said by...
The old dwarf had come to love his silence. His dark brown skin glowed like brass in the fire light as he tinkered on his stone slab in the depths of Old Belgrath. Deep in one of the vault's of his clan's manor. Above his left eye were lenses that he'd adjusted to see things a man's naked eye...
Agatha.
I hope this missive reaches you in whatever condition it is that you deserve. Ain't often I call for anyone to come to the Deepvaults, but I need to speak with you as soon as possible. The idiot that I sent to deliver this message should have also come with a chest of gold bars. You'll...
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