Troi looks to Ioleta. "Y'know, there's somethin'... odd 'bout ya. Dunno what it is... but there's somethin'..." He shakes his head.
“My theory’s that she’s loopy,” says Daggreth bluntly, but he softens it (somewhat) with another toothy grin. Anyone observing Daggreth in conversation, you note, gets a good look at Dwarven dental habits.
"I think I'll come on down with ya. Might be somethin' int'restin'."
"Me too, I'd like to see the trap door too."
"We'll come with you. It may save time if any more questions come up. And I must admit that I am curious to see what lies behind the trap door."
“Heh. It’ll be crowded, but as ye wish,” says Daggreth as you all volunteer to come with him. “Jest watch yer heads, okay?” He flips open the trap door and begins climbing down. As you enter, one by one, the trapdoor, you go on a short climb through a stone and wood tunnel down a rust free iron ladder, with the way lit by numerous small tapers which provide a flickering but sufficient light to get you safely on your way. You estimate that it’s only about seven feet from the floor of the level below to the ground- but as the taller of you discover with dismay, that means the ceiling is a little under six feet. The first one of you to come down sees Daggreth use flint and steel to light a simple oil lantern, which he hands to you. “Don’t need it, m’self.” He waves at the sturdy-looking dwarf with scale mail and an axe. “Dinnae worry, Vlint, they’re with me.
Baruk Kazad.” The Dwarf- “Vlint”- nods and relaxes
The ladder comes down in the middle of what appears to be a simple and small underground office, with wooden partitions raised on the flagstones. It creates a somewhat disconcerting mazelike effect. The atmosphere is dry and cool, warmed only by the bodies in it and the oil lantern. “Mostly storage,” explains Daggreth. “Some desks. A mite bit cheaper t’ build underground, y’see. Property only a Dwarf could love. We’ve bought the basements on the adjacent buildings, too.” Moving a little to look past a partition, you can indeed see that there’s a tunnel built between the basement of this building and the next.
Daggreth leads you into a nearby partition, where there are shelves and shelves of ledgers. After a moment of searching done mostly before the lantern first casts light on the books, he pulls out a thick volume and opens it. It’s in Dwarven runes, but Daggreth translates the table. “Date. Merchant. Time o’ departure. Estimated value o’ cargo. ‘cetra.”
“Now lesse, you were looking for small and portable, but with a wagon ye kin hide yer numbers in…” he starts searching. It is, indeed, crowded in the small cubicle. “Anything else?”
