"Well," said the barkeep, "whatever keeps you in coin then. Head towards the Tower o'Broken Moons in the city square, then left and keep going 'till you get to Golden Green. It's a big brown mound; don't ask. Anyway right from there, head to the end of the street, take the lane that curves back 'round the other way and look for the big pointy place with the hammers. Can't miss it."
The group stared, dumbly.
"Look, I'll draw you a map."
****
The heat out in the street was excruciating and the roads swirled with dust, trampled by a thousand traders and sailors and gadabouts seeking a good story for their next soiree. Yet despite the bustling crowds the party had little difficulty making their way through the rabble: people seemed to slip silently out of their way as soon as they saw a seven-foot gnoll in their midst. The queasy, inexplicable sensation they got from looking at Wednesday probably didn't hurt either. Despite the barkeep's instructions they soon found themselves directly in front of the building he described; a vast temple wrought in granite and gold.
Kalem grinned. "Unless it's Beard-And-Helmet week at Drunken Midget University, I think this might be it." Dwarves scrambled over the complex in their hundreds: beating carpets, scrubbing steps, hauling barrels and unloading carts full of candles and crockery. Shielding his eyes against the morning sun, Jelani could even make out two dwarves clambering over the giant sculpted hammer that housed the central belltower. Even Phillip had to admit; dwarven efficiency was truly a sight to behold.
Suddenly the party noticed someone stomping down the steps towards them: a red-faced, flustered-looking dwarf with dirty blonde hair in a tight ponytail. He carried a clipboard in one hand and a pencil-stub in the other, and he did not look pleased.
"Moradin's shithouse, where have you people been?" he began. His voice was shrill, but the words had a sort of melody to them as if he'd been practising this outburst for some time. "We're seating a hundred Goodshields, a hundred-and-fifty Hammershards and you boys just waltz on up an hour before as if-"
He stopped and his eyes widened. "Wait. Tell me there's more coming. Please don't tell me my security team is four frigging mercenaries and a trained gnoll."
He looked at Domonic, his eyes pleading.
