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Irritation weighed upon the dwarf’s fiery brow as he turned to the interrupter and his companion. Smirking disdainfully at the giant and similarly to the disguised dracon for associating with the former, the Zerdargian engineer sighed and waved away his fellow builders with a burly hand. “Yea, I’m in charge.” he emphatically said, thrusting a dirty thumb into his own chest.
Stepping away from the table and hiking up his trousers as they were being weighed down by a utility belt, the dwarf crossed his muscular arms across his broad chest. “Never heard of ya.” He said, and he turned partially as if to return to the others. The Zerdargians were keeping a busy schedule, working daily around the clock and oftentimes into the wee hours of the morning. Ever since the Imperial Government had allotted a considerable portion of their handsome coffers into Paxia’s reconstruction, there was not a spot in the entire city that was untouched by some worker or another.
At the mentioning of the Feeble Pox, though, the dwarven builder turned back to Adrian, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in evident alarm. “Well why didn’ ya just say so, mate!” the dwarf grumbled, obviously lost to the reality that the dracon had, in fact, explained himself quite lucidly. Glancing to the newly laid foundation that had become the base of Paxia’s former Academy of Magic, the dwarf chewed on one of his dirty fingernails in a pensive manner.
“Can’t say there’s a basement any longer.” He admitted, wincing slightly as a small explosion erupted from a plot of land nearby. The dwarf smirked, “But if ya head south you’ll find a big guy, Gorgon’s his name. Ya can’t miss the brute…” At this the dwarf winced again, glancing up to Mug as if expecting the massive humanoid to retaliate for the quasi-derogatory term. The dwarf shrugged. “He’s in charge a’ cleanup and stuff. He’d probably know more about what yer lookin’ for.”
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