~ The Undercity
Froud lead Miriah down large stone stairs that descended into the Undercity, where the subterranean denizens of Arcosia spent much of their lives. Again, Miriah had to quickly adjust to the clausterphobic atmosphere and the encroaching dimness that was only held back by the row of low-burning torches that lined the underground walkways. Plenty of dwarven citizens were out an about, bustling along on errands or standing about to chat idly, small children playing marbles or hopskip nearby.
The pair followed a wide lime-coloured road to its terminus, where a building immaculately carved from the very cavernous walls of the Undercity loomed over them, flanked by gargoyle-like statues at each end. The sign over the large marble doors proudly read 'Gemcutter Inn', in Common and Dwarven both.
~ Grundles
Shoving it so that was situated between Yara and the rest of the patrons, Forge moved to sit carefully on a nearby stool, his aching body complaining as he did so. He winced at the thought of how much the healer would charge him; he was probably in just slightly better shape than the young human woman who lay unconscious behind him. If more of the Mountain's friends were to arrive, they'd both be done for.
Thankfully, that wasn't to be. Presently two constables marched in, respendent in their polished bronze breastplates and crimson-plumed helmets. "Wot's this then?" demanded one, a muscular dwarf with runic tattoos running along his arms. He surveyed the grim scene, and unerringly picked out Forge as the one he should deal with. "Well then? Speak up quick if you've anything t'say." The other constable, a human with the compact, broad shouldered frame looked on warily, dark eyes examining the carnage silently.
.
