A Sore Thumb

Beautiful people! All kinds of beautiful lovelies no matter what their race was. RhyDin was full of them.

Krolt scowled as he watched another perfect immortal woman pass him by on the street. She was headed off in some tight outfit that left nothing to the imagination.

"Gods could let it rain." Then whatever she was wearing would have to get well, then dry out, and he could hope for a leather tie or whatever to give way. Off the garment would fall and the image would be complete. He wasn't even thinking lustful thoughts. Instead, he was utterly annoyed. Most of those that had ever wandered into the realm were like that: perfect, ageless, and probably knew magic, could read minds, or both.

The pick axe was hoisted up and switched from one shoulder to the other. He was moving away from the north and headed through the city streets in a southeasterly direction. "Look for what?s beneath. Betcha it's not so great. Rotting cesspool of stuff screaming to ooz out!" That thought made him chuckle. He shook his head and his wiry red beard moved about. An empty hand pushed it back down like an unruly child.

He'd been there for years, more years than he could really remember to think of at first. But he'd wager he would be able to tick them off accurately if put to the task. Some simply had to be in a group or to be accepted. Krolt did not. He was never good at having friends or wanting to keep them about. "Trouble and hassle, if ye ask me." Muttered thickly as he plodded along.

The coins in the leather purse at his side jingled. He'd been paid for the month of work in the mines and was off to spend some of it on ale. Some more on ale. And maybe a little on something to beat some of the dirt from his clothes.

Glaring at a few citizens and travellers, Krolt headed for the markets.

Ale Good Things"

The Dwarf was in a good mood. Well, as good as one of his lot could ever be " to his liking and his insistence. Ale, donuts, and land buying on his mind he scratched at an itching chin somewhere beneath all that beard of it. He pushed down the wiry, reddish beard and eyed the sign that stood outside of the very meticulous looking place of business.

He hustled up the steps of it that creaked a little under his stout, short stature and pushed the door open. To his annoyance a very light and beautiful music from some chimes hung above that door gave away his entrance. Krolt wasn't usually a quiet sort to begin with, but still he hadn't expected the "alarm' and glared up at it as the door closed.

"Greetings, friend."

Krolt hadn't even turned around to look at the one that had greeted him, but the airy, softness of the male's voice made him grind his teeth: an Elf. He trundled about in the same spot that he had stood in to eye the door chime and eyed the Elf instead.

Before Krolt stood a very elegant representation of his race. Fine, tapering ears, long shiny hair and a lithe form most Humans envied and wished they had for the Dwarf guessed that this Elf could outpace the fasted of them. Krolt sniffed the air, then he harrumphed a lungful it right back out.

"Don't start with that business, Elf. I haven't got all day to meet and greet and talk of wind and song."

"A short visit then." He seemed to need from his visitor some clarification on this.

Krolt eyed the dark haired male. "Yes."

"I do not know how I can help you without " " The Elf eyed the Dwarf with an expression Krolt could not define down to one inkling or emotion. "it taking most of the day, but I will make an effort. How can I be of assistance to you, Dwarf?"

"You can start by calling me by my name." He puffed up his barrel shaped chest proudly and continued. "I am Krolt Hammerlore and I've come to see about a property." A single, minor blink on the Elf's part. Or at least he thought he saw it.

"Very well, Krolt Hammerlore. What property do you want to see me about?"

"One that doesn't have a home on it yet. One that's outside of the city proper. And one that's got plenty of tree and earth. Not too far from the quarries either." The last bit was said very firmly.

"Not far from the quarries. I see. Rock" Salt' Did you have any quarry in particular in mind?" There was much made in the Elf's show of patience with his new client.

Krolt unholstered his pick axe and set the butt of it against the floor. Short, thick and callused hands rested on top of the pick head and used the tool to lean on. "Rock, you thin-handed dolt! Salt." He snorted and continued on as if he has said nothing more than mentioning that "the sun would melt the rest of the snow outside". "There's a piece of land to the south a"here and I want to buy it."

The Elf grew quiet with contemplation.

"Well?" Krolt didn't allow for the male to think too long. "Is it for sale or isn't it?"

"Yes. But let us sit and talk for a while."

Krolt eyed the Elf suspiciously.

"I must have time to draw up the papers and certainly you will want to know every detail, yes?"

"Well"yes. But don't take half the day in doing so. I have the mines to get to. Work to do, you know."

"Of course.?

About the room he looked again before he trundled after the Elvish chap, tapping the butt of his pick against the floor along the way.