Soon enough, Rhian made his choice.
The dwarf grinned ear to ear, his short, thick arms folding with smug satisfaction. "Heh. Knew you had some brain left under those scales." He turned to the taller man and jabbed a finger toward his chest. "Suck on that, pretty-boy. Maybe next time try selling blades, not bedtime stories."
The taller man scoffed but didn't argue. He gave Rhian a polite shrug and muttered, "Good luck with the troll," before turning and walking off.
"Run along, you chinless fop!" the dwarf bellowed, waving him off like shooing a stray dog. "Come on," he grunted to Rhian and Nia, already turning and stomping toward his forge. "Let's make a real weapon. Not some overpriced wall decoration."
Rhian followed, Nia walking beside him, smirking.
"You sure about this?" she asked under her breath.
Rhian nodded. "He might be a bit much, but I trust someone that mad to make something great."
Nia snorted. "Yeah, or blow us all up."
"Can't wait," Rhian replied.
