Dramatic Scene: Guild of Explorer's Meeting: Dwarven Citadel Expedition

The Dragon's Den has been hastily transformed into an assembly hall tonight, an exclusive clubhouse for the Guild. All of the tables have been taken into the back, replaced with an assortment of chairs and bench seats in as neat and orderly a fashion as possible. A clerk at the door allows admittance after checking membership off the guild roster. The bar itself is still open, and it is already packed with thirsty jackboots, bravos, delvers, divers, thugs, thieves, warriors, wizards, priests, pugilists, cutpurses, cuthroats, safecrackers, skullcrackers, guides, goons, headhunters, monster hunters and the occasional bard.

Taking center stage are three remaining tables set up in front with 7 empty chairs. Nobody further announcements have been made yet, and the general adventuring community converses amongst itself about the nature of the announcement.

Karelin claimed a seat near the fireplace, and a bottle of wine, which he's idly swigging. In anticipation of a meeting, he's got another bottle by his boot.

Eira notes a chair next to Karelin, after going through the hassle at the door to show her papers. "Saving that for anyone?" She asks before taking the presumption he's not and takes the seat.

Drakha is sitting at one of the stools by the bar, mainly due to them being the ones best accomodating the large reptilian tail he has. Staying mostly silent and just waiting for the things to get started. He has a mug of something steaming set on the bar front of him that he occasionally sips from.

Kayla in all her barbaric splendor is standing near the entrance chatting with another Aesir while keeping an eye on the surroundings for anyone she knows. The blonde Skaldi seems to be in a decent enough mood, and is all smiles.

Craft, for his part, slips in, standing somewhere in the back, forming something of an out of place statue to first glance, only the glow of his eyes giving him the appearance of life as he stands perfectly still, observing.

"Evenin' Kayla..." Karl brings a hand up to tip his hat slightly to the Aesir bard as he steps through the door, looking over the general gathering--a step out of the way, he asks her curiously, "Any idea what this announcement'n meeting are all about, by any chance?"

With a mug of no doubt watered down ale, Garth is already lounging in one of the chairs set for the guild members. He's yanked the unfortunate piece of furniture right out of the exceedingly neat setup - provided it's not nailed down... which it might just be, if the organizers thought ahead - ruining the careful order as he lounges in it, the front two legs of it slightly lifted off the floor and its back rested against the wall for an optimal half-sitting, half-lying down position. Every once in a while he sloshes the drink down his gullet.

Arissa arrives mostly on time, though she's very quiet and tense; there is no doubt in her mind that at least a few people here may be sizing up their potential to 'cash in' on her, or that another bomb might go off. So to her this is a business meeting, not a party event, and she walks up to Karl upon spotting him. Arissa doesn't say much, she just nods to him once nearby.

Karelin leans over, shuffling the bottle aside with one foot, making room. "Take a seat, get comfortable." He swigs the bottle, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and offers it to Eira. "Here, this'll take the edge off."

Wilma has a bit of a hassle at the door. Something about the lists mentioning her as 'Dead'. Finally, more than slightly pissy, the dwarf makes to grab the door-tender by the throat, "Well, if I'm bein' dead, then my hand 'round your neck won't feel warm at all! And bloody hell, you've'all givin' me jobs since then, so unless you're bein' in the habit of hirin' the undead, let-me-pass!" Alas, it isn't due to her intimidating presence that gets her past. More like one of the other door-tenders recognize her from various lurkings at the hall for jobs. Stomping her way through the crowd, the dwarf finds rest just outside the mess Garth has made, swearing about the door-tender's parentage in Jotun.

"Ow, Faiza! Yes, yes. I'll bring all the information back, OW!"

Garrin is more or less shoved in the door by someone, probably the aforementioned Faiza, before he moves further in, pausing for a moment to say, "Well, could think of a better place to have a meeting like this." He straightens his coat and has himself a seat.

Kayla eyes Karl's hat consideringly, before grinning over at him and excusing herself from her conversation. "Hello Karl. No clue." She shrugs one shoulder expressively, wrinkling her nose. "I've actually been keeping a low profile since the magic competition. If one more spellslinger asks if he can put his wizard staff in my mana pool.." She scowls, crossing arms over her chest. "It seemed like an entertaining idea at the time, but by the Gods...!"

Karl tries not to laugh. He really does. He really, really does. He fails, of course, finally letting out a bark of laughter, reaching a hand out to clap her shoulder sharply. "Well, I can't say they don't have good taste," he observes with a wink, then notices Arissa's approach, nodding to her affably, "Arissa. Any clue what this's about?"

"Hey, stumpy." Garth greets Wilma cheerily. It's entirely and unquestionably good-natured, though. A large hand is listed, a gesture at one of the many vacant nearby chairs. "Good to see ya. Have a seat." he offers to the dwarf. A glance around the place has him wave a cheery greeting to any who might know him and glance his way, and there's a good few of those in attendance.

Colrick has little trouble at the door, aside from forgetting which of his pouches or packs had his papers. Once confirmed as a paid up member, he's quick to get away from the door and go find some familiar faces. It's Karl and Arissa that he bumps into first. "Evening." he says politely, before nodding to Kayla. "Miss." he says in greeting. "Did I miss a good joke?"

"If I was looking for being comfortable I'd be back in my library." Funny how Eira speaks as if she has some ownership in the academies library, tho, she does practically live in the reading rooms. She takes the seat, glancing around. Not recognising a lot of faces in the room. She accepts the bottle, using her sleeve to clean the top before she takes a sip from it.

Zerridwyn is here! The warrior-wizard has a new robe, the garish stars and moons replaced with something subtler but of the same theme, with embroidery eliciting the intended arcane aesthetic without looking so childish as the previous piece. She moves over to the few people she knows best from her adventuring times and greets with a wave and smile a slight less exuberant than her usual. "Garth!" she calls, the elf squeezing around the patrons to get over to him. She hasn't met Wilma before but offers the dwarf a pleasant smile and lifted hand of greeting. "Oh, hello. I'm Zerridwyn. I'm not too late for the guild announcement, am I? I've been very distracted with... things."

Karelin grins. "I'm sure you can find a pillow if you ask nicely enough." He gestures. "You're not going to clean that every time, are you?"

Wilma snorts at Garth, "Hey, Tinbear," she greets the man, before dropping into a seat a bit closer. A glance is given to Zerridwyn, before she jerks her chin towards the front with the empty chairs. "Not yet, 'less they went earlier an' escaped before we got here."

Eira takes another sip, then hands the bottle back, "Probably." She reaches into a pocket to pull out a worn leather book and a pristine white handkerchief. "I'll use this next time." Hands free of the wine bottle she pulls the writing utensil out from between the worn pages of the book. Making a few notes as she gives the room another glance.

"Hrmph." Kayla tells Karl eloquently, giving Garth a salute at his wave. "I'd be less mortified if it had actually worked. Still! It happened and I'm about ready to show my face in public. Hello, Arissa. I'm gunna go nab a seat." Arissa is given a smile and a wave before Kayla starts looking for somewhere to sit. Out of previous experience with them, she picks near Garth, Zerridwyn and Wilma as the three most likely to be entertaining.

Arissa jolts in surprise when Colrick bumps nearby, hand starting to... no. He's apologizing. She rapidly calms down, giving a slight nod in reply... then looking to Karl. "Really I have not even the slightest of clues. I can tell you it's a matter of some dignity and import, but little more." Zerridwyn's arrival gets a quick handwave, too. Arissa also returns Kayla's gesture, smiling back. "Well met."

Karelin accepts the bottle, and take a good, long pull, as he looks around, licking his teeth absently. Red wine and all that. "Good idea. I'm sure the stains will wash out." He gestures at the table. "So, /you/ know what this is about?"

" 'ey, Zerri!" Garth returns the greeting with a bright grin. A nod is given at the nearby chairs when the elf comes to a stop nearby. "Sit, sit." he tells her. A nod confirms Wilma's words. "I reckon they'll get talkin' soon enough. Oh! This is Zerri. She's a warrior-wizard or somesuch." Cough Eldritch Knight cough! Not that Garth remembers that terminology. "And this is Wil. Most furious dwarf I ever did see. Not a bad shot with a two-handed sword, either!" A teasing grin is given Wilma's way, at that introduction. He certainly doesn't seem to mind Kayla having a seat there, either.

After a few minutes and the last of the stragglers make their way in, the doors to the tavern are shut and locked (OMG IT'S A TRAP), and in comes Guildmaster Horus Malwright. Those of you that frequent the Guild know Horus as an adventurer that retired after his first child was born and settled into the role of administrator and informal leader for the guild. The middle-aged man is thin and wiry, with a small pot-belly from a few years of easy living catching up with him. His receeding hairline is starting to turn grey at the edges, giving him more of a look of a teamster. One could easily mistake him for one were it not for the exquisitely crafted adamantine shortsword hanging from his belt and the tiny links of mithral chain peeking out from under his shirt.

Trailing behind the guilder is a strange procession. First is a regal looking mountain dwarf dressed in fine ceremonial chain shirt over a gold embroided tunic. His brown hair is well coifed and his beard braided and filled with silver and gold beads. Just behind him is a scraggly well-muscled storm dwarf in full-plate that is very much not ceremonial, judging by the dents. In third place is...an iron dwarf (duergar) woman in dark crimson spidersilk robes with smoked lenses glasses, her jet black hair pulled into a tight bun. Behind her is another mountain dwarf in gleaming mithral breastplate stamped with the holy symbol of Reos, his black beard trimmed short but thick in the traditional style of Khazad blacksmiths. His well-polished helmet's insignia mark him as an Oversmith of the Temple (Archbishop). In the next to last position is a dumpy looking human in simple clothing that looks to be a peasant's temple-day best. He has the well-tanned skin and calloused hands of a farmer. Finally, is a nerdy looking half-elf in wizard's robes, wearing a medallion marking him as an Academy of Sages scriviner.

The procession finally heads up to the tables and each takes a seat with Horus sitting in the middle, with the Dwarven Oversmith, the human farmer and the young sage to his right, and the three other dwarves to his left. Horus holds up a hand, "Everybody sit down, grab a seat or file your way to the back, and keep quiet. Then we'll get started." The guilder states with a no-nonsense but not entirely gruff tone.

Karl's chin lifts up in an easy nod as Kayla moves off, hand falling back down to his side. "A'ight." He doesn't move for a chair, himself - he just takes the back wall, adjusting the rifle slung across his back before leaning to it, one foot lifting up to rest flat against the wood. He's about to say something else, and then the doors are shut and the Guildmaster steps forward with that procession of rather strange folk. A brow lifts a little, murmuring, "Interesting group."

Eira seems to be diagramming the room on the page, giving her head a shake as Karelin asks a question, "I am not entirely certain.." She sits up a bit as important people seem to be pouring in. And the door locks. Craning her neck as she continues to scribble on the page. "But I figured it would be wise to attend."

Craft is already in the back, and quiet. He continues to do so, though his head turns briefly to try and follow Kayla's conversation with curiosity before looking back towards the offical (and somewhat less than official) looking folks.

Karelin offers the bottle back to Eira, and straightens up. "Oh, well, /this/ should be interesting." He nods casually. "It did, didn't it." Legs stretch out in front of him, and he quietens down.

"'Ello, Garth, Zerridwyn, Wilma." The Aesir greets with a smile, before quickly claiming a chair. She turns it around and rests her arms over the back, chin on arms. "This should be interesting. I've heard a few rumors.." Kayla shakes her head and directs blue-green eyes towards the elders.

"Even if its only to aid if it goes entirely wrong.." Eira puts the writing utensil down and accepts the bottle back. She lowers her voice a notch asiding to Karelin, "You never know when something is a ruse to gather up the presumed guilty." Speaking as if she's seen that sort of witchhunt once or twice. She does grab the cloth and wipe the bottle with it, staining the starched white linen with the red wine, before taking another restrained sip.

Drakha turns her head to watch the official looking people walking in, noting how curiously large percentage of them are dwarves of some type or the other, but apart from his head turning, he simply stays sitting where he is, still occasionally bringing that mug to his lips to sip from. Hopefully there will be something worth the time spent here.

Wilma frowns a bit as the processional files in - gaze flickering among the dwarven folks int he group. A big surprise, that isn't. Karelin smiles faintly. "I'd be more worried if Kinnevack was still around; that was one of her tricks." He pauses. "One of her many tricks." Fingers itch at his nasal scars.

Colrick nods to Karl's assessment, as he leans against the back wall near the hunter. "Rather heavy in Dwarven representation. I suppose we'll be aiding their people in some unified venture." he comments quietly to Karl, as he fidgets with the handle of a large knife strapped to his belt.

Arissa quickly follows Karl to that same wall, apparently making a point of staying close to him. She speaks quietly as he makes comments about the guildmaster and dignitaries, "I agree... while not overly fancy, there is enough flair that this is either not at all important, or a matter worth tending to. Though sometime after this meeting, I would hope to speak with you about our own concerns? ...Not here, of course."

Zerridwyn freezes for a moment and pries her thoughts away from the worry brought on by seeing a duergar here. Fortunately, she doesn't know all that much about their sorts and is quick to push that out of her thoughts. She nods and offers a curt wave to the others greeting her. "They must have something very important to say."

"Fortunately she's been turned to stone, but isn't there others still bearing her colours and ascending thrones in other lands that should be looked at.." Eira sips from the bottle, lips collecting a bit of red hue from the wine. "and watched out for. There are parties here whose names are known far and wide.." She hands the bottle back and resumes writing. "And nevermind the instability in the high kingdom between the two factions."

Garth pipes down as the guild officials file out. His chair clatters back down to being on the floor fully, and from then on, he's silent. Watching, listening, waiting. Chatting to his brothers and sisters in arms will have to wait a while, until the business part of this is done with.

Horus waits for everyone to take a seat or shuffle to the back that hasn't already and the din to drop to an acceptable level before he begins speaking, taking out a sheaf of papers from the inside of his tunic to look over before he does so.

"This is going to be a bit complicated and a long story, so I'm going to start at the beginning. Don't get too far into your cups because the details are important and pay attention will be to your benefit. Roughly two months ago, William Mellish, this gentleman right here," He points to the aging farmer to his right before continuing, "He was readying to start his spring planting on his farm. He had some heavy rains the last two weeks, and woke up one morning to find a sinkhole in his fields. This is not entirely uncommon, but the damage had to be inspected to see how much of his lands were at risk. So he sent down his son into the sinkhole, and his son came back with reports of being in a massive stone chamber that no cave had carved out over the centuries. William was smart enough to come to us, and we put a sage to it...Long story short, we believe we have found the Citadel of the Unbroken Shield."

Horus pauses to let that sink in, but not for too long, "For those of you that aren't bards, historians, or dwarven sages....The Citadel was city-state that straddled the line between Dun Mordren and the lost empire of Morduzum. That's as much as can be pulled from what scant mention there is in the dwarven archives."

Zerridwyn's eyes go big like a cat that's just been shown a wiggling string.

Kayla's eyes widen at what's said. Even if she isn't the best bard in town, she knows what they're talking about. Her breath even catches and she leans forward, almost in danger of toppling forward herself.

"Of course." Karl nods a bit to Arissa, a faint smile briefly touching his lips before it fades; and then he's looking up to the speakers, brows raising a litle. "...well, well," he murmurs, straightening up, "Now this sounds interesting."

Wilma frowns just a touch - okay, a lot. Hey, it causes pain to think deep thoughts, and thoughts deep enough to consider a sinkhole has a bit of weight to them. "Huh."

Italic textArissa raises an eye at that news, keeping quiet... she's speaking, but it's mostly for the benefit of herself and those immediately nearby, such as Karl. "It would be of great historical value at the very bare minimum. That they took these accounts seriously enough to hold a meeting over it... suggests it is more than just scholarly." Horus definitely has her attention.

"And you wish our assistance with retrieval?" A metallic voice calls out from the back, Craft's eyes dimming somewhat as he puts forward the question.

Karelin's neck cracks as he stretches it from time to time. "Ah, interesting." He glances at Eira, lips turning up at the corners. "Dead cities."

Drakha keeps listening, unblinking as the story is told. He is not a bard, and frankly does not even know what all names of common knowledge places mean in this part of the world, much less long forgotten dwarven cities. He expects them to have more to say though, such as the 'whats in it for us' part, which is what interests him the most, as he does this business mostly to raise funds to his own research.

Poor Garth looks so out of his element. Everyone around him goes all 'ooh' and 'aah', whether by their profession, studies or race... he just looks hopelessly lost until the guy actually explains a thing or two about it. He does nod a bit, though, acknowledging the importance it has to the, ah, more educated of the gathering and the dwarven people at large.

Colrick frowns a bit as a thought occurs to him, and quietly murmurs it to Arissa and Karl. "If this is of such importance to the Dwarven peoples, then..." he begins, then just lets the words die there, as he mulls it over and stays quiet. He shifts his focus to Craft, eager to here the guildmaster's response to the question.

Younger wakes up suddenly, with a start, "Wha--?" He whipes some drool from his chin, looking around with some confusion. He mutters, "Place filled up quick."

Eira stops writing for a moment when the reason for the gathering is revealed. Whispering a word in very dark tongue before she resumes taking notes. She glances at Karelin, "Tombs should be left sealed." She reaches for the bottle of wine, "This is an omen, not a gift for this community."

Zerridwyn stands up abruptly. "Omen? This is history! It is an ancient place left forgotten that is now rediscovered!" She's becoming rather agitated. "This is an opportunity for adventure filled with stories to tell our fellows and our children, for songs to be sung throughout the lands! It is a chance to uncover lost secrets for the dwarves and reunite them with this piece of their past! We can't just leave it there."

Horus waves a hand, "Questions come later. Pipe down and let's at least act like we have some order in front of our guests." The old adventurer jokes. The dwarves don't particularly find it funny, except for the storm dwarf who chuckles. "Anyway...The last two months, I've been running back and forth between the Engineeing Enclave to buttress the chamber up and get the mud and water pumped out, Farmer Mellish here, and these delegates from each of the great dwarven cities and their ancestral religion...In no particular order of importance, here goes. This is Fivrel Truehammer, delegate of Dun Mordren and one of Mendorn Steamhammer's son-in-laws." Horus points to the mountain dwarf in ceremonial chain, then he gestures to the rough and tumble looking mountain dwarf, "And this is Kale Stonesmasher, Vallaheim's delegate. And this lady here, Galora Bludstein, is the delegate of Zel Kadra." He of course gestures to the Iron Dwarvess, then turns to gesture to the priest of Reos, "Representing the Faith of Reos, we have Oversmith Hadkor Masterbuilder of The Ever-Ringing Anvil of the Allfather, of Ironhold."

Horus takes a sip from the glass of water on the table and looks a few papers over, readying them as if he will shortly read from them. "Over the last two months, we have been very busy, negotiating a contract that we can all benefit from. The dwarven community as a whole doesn't have the manpower to spare in exploring the Citadel itself, but they are very interested it in for it's historic value and as a potential highway directly to the heart of Morduzum, if the tunnels are intact. So in we come. But this isn't some random ruin for us to be peeling the goldleaf off the walls and kicking the doors in. Keep that in mind."

Incidentally, Garrin is wearing a fez. Because a fez is cool, you know. At any rate, he's listening intently and paying quite a bit of attention. His eyes have gotten real wide. This? This sounds like one hell of an adventure! The kind he can write stories about. Everyone knows this because he says, "I can write so many stories about this. This sounds *great*."

"This is an opportunity to achieve immortality in song and verse." Kayla says reverently, eyes fierce. She glances at the Oversmith, nodding slowly. "It is also a chance for the Dwarven people as a whole to explore their heritage. Wilma is definately now frowning at Kale Stonesmasher. And oh-so-slowly slouching downward, as she listens.

Arissa pays attention quietly, not at all surprised to hear that there's a 'no looting, no smashing' clause in place for investigating a historical site like this. Horus probably isn't expecting any particular response, but she does make a nod all the same.

"Why do I have a feeling," Karl murmurs thoughtfully, strking his jaw as he does so, "That I'm going to need to polish my trap-disarming skills in the near future..."

Drakha slowly turns his head towards the elf at her outburst and just -looks- at her for a few moments, then shakes his head without saying anything, then turns his attention back towards the guildmaster to listen to what he is saying. The no looting part annoys him somewhat, but he at least assumes they will be compensated in some other way as hey, they are mercenaries, they don't do things just for their sheer goodness, but because there is something in it for them.

"Somethin' wrong?" Garth whispers to Wilma, noting how the dwarven woman seems to be trying to disappear in her chair. He's following along with the tales, sure, and grinning at the prospect of adventure, but that's more or less it from him. He's not likely to be going down there for the cultural wonders of dwarvenkind - just in case something horrible made a nest and needs a sword put through it.

"The Earth Mother does not just reveal such mysteries without some mechanism behind it." Eira remarks as she continues to take notes. The sorceress is more then willing to share her concerns about the discovery, "There should be a measured approach to taking upon exploring the citidel."

The guildmaster looks over a few papers and shuffles through a few. He squints and sighs, taking out a pair of spectacles that he perches prevariously low on his nose. "Alright. I'm going to read out a few pertinent terms of the contract. You might not like some of them...hell, I don't like some of them, but you're all grown men, women...and golems, you can handle it. Alright...:

---

1) Each delving expedition must consist of no fewer than two guild members, with a maximum of 8. Non-guild members, save for guild-approved hirelings and Engineering Enclave personnel, are not permitted inside the site. Upon request of the Delegate Council and Oversmith Hadkor, guild members of goblinoid or orcish heritage are not allowed within the site without special permission from either the Council or the Oversmith.

2) The Delegate Council have first choice to purchase any item, artifact, or relic recovered from the site, at a half price as valued by third party appraisers. Objects of a religious signifigance to the faith of Reos, or of importance to a particular clan or familial bloodline that can be geneaologically traced to existing dwarvenkind are to be automatically given to the Oversmith Hadkor or the Council with no recompense or monetary gain, save whatever their own gratitude might allow.

3) Distribution of monies and valueables between members of each expedition are by their own arrangements. However, a flat 10% of the gross value of treasure recovered from the site will taxed to pay for various purposes. In exchange for this payment of contract dues, the guild will offer a number of benefits, including airship passage to and from the site, appraisal of goods and materials recovered from the site, room and board in the guild camp, a delver's toolkit for each expedition into the site, and non magical medical care, free of charge. Additionally, the guild has contacted several temples and made arrangements with Oversmith Hadkor, and all clerical healing will be provided at half price plus any material costs, or for material costs alone for life threatening injuries or resurrections.

4) To provide opportunity for all guild members to profit from this endeavor, each expedition is allowed to only bring what they can carry with them back as treasure in a single trip. No beasts of burden or mechanical devices such as carts, wheelbarrows, rickshaws, or sleds will be allowed to be taken into the site.

---

The guildmaster takes another sip of water, then sighs, awaiting a barrage of angry adventurer's demanding why the hell they're taking 10% off the top and how gobs and orcs are being discriminated against. "Alright. Questions from our illustrious guild members?"

"Because I don't think it's any mistake on the Dwarves' part that they're not keeping this discovery to themselves." Colrick comments quietly to Karl. He frowns a bit more darkly as he observes the dignitaries at the front. "Lack of manpower? I am doubtful of that reason, if this was so important."

the list of terms spoken out, the first part doesn't really bother him at all, the second part, especially the last sentence of it, he does not like Maybe the golem's disappointed, maybe not. "And works of craftsdwarfship not related to any particular religion or familial line?" the golem asks, having obtained something of an interest in Dwarven craftsmanship.

"Shrewd but not unexpected... really they would not be concerned with making our pockets over-heavy." Arissa comments mostly to herself, apparently not too disturbed by the terms that were just announced. Then to Colrick and Karl, "It may be a matter of a lack of expendible manpower. Why risk one's own life when you can make contract for others to bring the materials to you and clear the way? A loss of some money and material may be worth keeping one's life safe, to them."

Drakha blinks slowly a few times while he listens to that much, as such definition is highly subjective. The last two parts again he is fairly neutral about. He has his own theory of why the dwarves are delegating the 'exploration' of said ruins to a third party, and lack of manpower has nothing to do with it.

"Tell me about it," Karl mutters quietly to Colrick, then raises one hand, clearing his throat. "Ah... sir? Exactly /how/ filled with deathtraps and monsters is this Citadel that you're allowing bands of adventurers to poke around inside it rather than archaeological expedition teams?"

"... what could possibly be wrong?" Wilma mutters, as she sinks as much as a full-grown stormdwarf in normal armor can. "An' it has nothin' to be doin' with clans either. Thankfully, it's a decent sized clan. There's hope he won't recognize her - and at this distance, she wouldn't recognize her own mother. Hopefully.

Garth glances at his mug of ale. Some of it's already gone, but most of it is still there. He offers it to Wilma, figuring she needs it more than he does right now. The warrior makes a bit of a face at the terms, especially the ones barring the hobgoblin members of the Guild from taking part in this. He doesn't comment, though, keeping any volatile opinions to himself.

Horus addresses Craft first, "The Oversmith and the Delegate council has first right to purchase anything recovered, provided it is of no specific familial or religious signifigance, but beyond that, you are free to keep it or sell it as you see fit."

Fivrel holds a hand up to Karl, "I'll field this one if you don't mind, Guildmaster." The mountain dwarf calls out in a rich bass full of timbre. "We cannot attest to any creatures or living threats within the Citadel. We have only inspected the first chamber and catalogued the frescos and bas reliefs, which only confirm our theory of what we have found. The doors leading out of this chamber are not trapped, but as per the terms of the contract, we have no explored further. I have no doubt there will be traps that are a credit to our race and possible creatures from the depths that have made the ruins their home. And there will be archeological teams examining everything that comes out of our ancestral city, as well as going inside to study the areas cleared by you guilders."

"And these artifacts that are given back to the dwarves, would they be willing to make it open to the examination of it's retrievers, providing no damage is done to the object itself?" Craft asks, his interest in the expedition becoming apparent rather quickly.

Wilma takes the offered ale - but only takes one hearty drink of it, before handing it back. So keeping quiet and letting everyone else question the delegates. Yes.

Big eyes. That's the besy way to describe Garrin right now. Big. Eyes. He's definitely interested. "This.. could very well be the best news I've heard all year. I can't wait." It's more muttered to himself than anything else, but..

Oversmith Hadkor takes this question, "I have qualms with the inspection, under proper supervision of one of my acolytes. I am sure the rest of the delegates will have no objections, either." The priest replies, leaning forward to look at the other three dwarves. Some shrug, there's a nod, and the general consensus seems to be agreeement.

Horus looks the crowd over, steepling his fingers, "Any other questions? Otherwise, I'll wrap this meeting up."

Eira quiets a little as others voice concerns and asks questions. Writing down a note here and there while sharing the bottle of wine with Karelin.

Drakha focuses his attention towards the guildmaster again at that last question, and speaks for the first time during the meeting, a simple enough question. "When do we start?"

Arissa stays quiet; nothing that has come up strikes her as particularly odd or worth openly balking over, so she begins to shift away from the wall slightly as mentions of ending the meeting come up.

"The first expedition is going to start two days from now. We've secured passage with the trade airship The AirMule that runs the route between Vilas Solmnus, Alexandria, and Rosalia one per week. They stop in Ridgerest...Which is...Tim, put up the map." Horus makes a go-ahead gesutre to the mousey looking scrivener-mage, and he conjures up a Silent Image spell, projecting a large floating map of Alexandros behind the table.

The guildmaster points out Ridgerest, which is 50 miles from the borders of Sendor and Bludgun. "Right here. The ship takes on coal and water, and we'll have you lowered and raised by the baskets. Then it's just a wagon ride over to Mr. Mellish' home. We've a tent city set up and you are welcome to stay indefinitely between expeditions. And finally, the actual contract, tome that it is, will be at the guildhouse. If you are interested in this contract, you can make your way over and sign it or make your mark and get it notorized. And that is that. If you have any further questions, you can see me in my office at the guildhouse. Meeting adjourned."