Nefydd let out a barely audible sigh, looking at the dwarf.
“Your... Illustriousness,” Grijhold said, hands tightening on his walking stick.
“No, dwarf, you have the title wro-” hissed the priest.
“I was referring to your female companion,” Grijhold interrupted. “I believe we haven't been properly introduced.”
The woman smiled, revealing perfectly straight, polished teeth. “Grijhold Torseeker, well met. And you must be Nefydd Foulkes.” Again she smiled, giving a curt nod, her ponytail moving in rhythm.
Cornelius coughed. “I have some rather important news from the village council.”
The priest pulled out a scroll case from within his robes, tossing it to the dwarf. “Your contract with Tamith shall end in two days time. You will be paid accordingly, any shortcomings or shirking of your duties are a violation of our contract and will, of course, be deducted from your payroll. That is your copy of the termination notice.”
Grijhold removed the scroll from the case, unraveling it and glancing at the scribework within. “Impressive handwriting skills, did you forge this document yourself, Sunshitter, or did you have a lackey do it for you?”
“Oh the article is genuine, I assure you, I was able to procure 3 out of the 5 signatures needed to make the termintation binding. I expect you to leave this town in two days. But before you go, there is the matter of an old barrow you two dug up?”
“Barrow!? We dug-” Grijolhd's walking stick snapped.
Nefydd laid a firm hand on the dwarf's left shoulder. “Grij, leave it be, we can be damn sure Aled didn't sign it.”
“Can we?” the dwarf growled.
“As I was saying before I was interrupted by your unprofessional behavior, there is the matter of a barrow. This is Alalyn. She will accompany you to the barrow and assist you both as she sees fit under official capacity as an adjutant marshal.”
Grijolhd, grinding his teeth, said quietly, “ Anything else?”
“Ah yes, I would like the scroll case, it is property of the Church.”
“But of course,” Grijhold spat in the case, closed the lid and tossed it back to the priest. “Apologies Gleaming Goose, but I needed to clear my throat.”
“Good riddance to you both. You do your Guild great dishonor.” Cornelius nodded to Alalyn, striding back to the village proper.
“Lead on gentlemen,” Alalyn grinned.
“As you wish, milady,” Nefydd managed to say with a slight bow.
“Ah Mr. Foulkes, no need to be so formal. Lyn will be fine if you please.”
Grijolhd walked briskly in the direction.
“Is your dwarven compatriot always so dour?”
“Only when he's lost his job.”
“Adventuring is such a difficult profession these days.”
“Begging your pardon Lyn. I don't know you but it appears you can more than carry you weight in matters such as this. So let's skip the flattery and the flirtations, if any were forthcoming in the first place. I prefer milady as you clearly prefer to refer to me as a gentleman, which, last time I checked I'm anything but.”
Alalyn smiled, “Ah Nefydd, you and I will get along spectacularly, I'm sure.”
Nefydd gave her a quick nod, rubbing his right forearm, walking headlong to catch up to Grijhold.
“That's an interesting torc on you right arm Mr. Foulkes,” Alalyn called after him.
“She's worse than I thought,” the dwarf mumbled. “Definitely magicks attuned.”
“She's charming in a way,” Nefydd whispered back.
“With looks like that, it ain't too hard lad.”
“Maybe she can charm the bulette.”
“That is what I'm afraid of.”
Alalyn called behind them, “A bulette did you say?”
Both Nefydd and Grijolhd stopped. Nefydd turned, containing his surprise. “Aye milady, near the barrow.”
“We shall all earn our keep then won't we?” The woman smiled. “Come, come, I should like to see this barrow.”
“I imagine you would,” Grijolhd mumbled again.
“I heard that.”