Prince Tasster smiles sardonically at Carmand’s response and chuckles.

“Well, ‘hat’s enthusiasm if I ever heard it. I’ll be ‘round this area with me boys when yer ready to leave. Lemme know and maybe I’ll come. Better part of a week here, be nice to breathe some new air and not be ‘round these high holies all the time. Patience is nay one o’my virtues. That’s me brother’s role. A nice Argalary is more my taste and ‘m running outta minotaurs to spar with and things to drink ‘round here. Whole place is just so… weird.”
Tasster looks around.
“This place, big bloody crystal. That isn’t right. That isn’t natural” Tasster mutters. “So aye, come find me when yer ready to leave.”

Turning, the dwarf walks off from the sparring area to a barracks. On the way, he withdraws a barracks and takes a long pull from it and weaves a bit as he goes.

“Could’ve been a bit more… interested eh Carmard, ye stiff backed old dwarf. We could use the help.” Gulvar grumbles loudly enough for everyone to hear…