"How do you get him out here?" Yara asked of Miriah, her mouth curling into a lop-sdied grin. "I don't know, yer the mage, right?" She took hold of Froud's hand and led him across the the street. "Don't worry," she threw over her shoulder, "we'll be at the door. If things start to go bad, there's no dishonour in runnin' like the devils are on yer tail!" And then she and the gnome disappeared around the corner.
~ Forge and Miriah
The two mages made their ways back into the stone building and immediately split off as to disassociate from one another. Forge weaved his way through the crowd of dwarves that surrounded a lively marble game, while Miriah stood by the bar, not having to feign peering into the dim light. Both could see the dwarf known as the Mountain drinking with his half-dozen dwarven comrades, and to their surprise, the ornate ceremonial hammer hung at his waist.
~ Froud
Froud found himself back in the same alley he had been in just the night before, and it vaguely chilled him to remember how the night had ended. From the nervous look on Yara's face as she settled down besdide the pub's back door, he wasn't the only one to have misgivings.
The alleyway itself was wide enough to allow three tall humans to walk abreast; it was littered with rubbish and broken bottles and smelled like a midden. Froud's gnomish sense of smell allowed him to distinguish all sorts of scents that turned his stomach.
