The blacksmith's apprentice grins and chuckles with undiluted mirth, the first time any of you have seen him do so.
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The dromaar apprentice pipes up. "Speaking of ore, while you were off, we finished the palisade, so the carpenter and I went panning for gold in the river, and, well..." He pulls out a leather pouch and pours a thimbleful of tiny glimmering nuggets into his clawed hand.
Hodak glances at him quizzically. "What sort of trade did you have in mind?"
As you sidle belowdecks and crowd around the larder where Snekki stirs his pot of fish soup and ladles it into bowls, the blacksmith's apprentice turns toward you and gives an understated greeting. "I hear you lot almost got blown up. How did that happen?" he asks casually.
"Zöndiñ nasıdızqï tal," he replies, smiling and returning Syper's grip. Orcish: "May the swamps keep their secrets."
"To treasure!" cheers the young blacksmith appreciatively.
Sipping at his potato soup, he adds, "Wouldn't be surprised if we get rivals following us all the way to Thalis. This expedition just got more interesting!" A dromaar male in his early twenties sighs morosely. "That's the last thing we need. I signed up to see the world, not engage in espionage." He nods at Syper. "Hodak Gristlemane, apprentice blacksmith. Thorvaldur Hrolfsson's been teaching me the trade for a year and a half now, and if he's going to go on an expedition, I'm going to go on the expedition." He takes a spoonful of potatoes, chews, and swallows. "Better than being on the street like most orcspawn without parents." He takes another bite, and continues. "I've been looking over the device, and I think I've got it mostly figured out. Enough to repair any parts other than the steam engine, at least." |