Paksworld

Setting: inn just outside Fin Panir’s walls.   A dwarf and a kteknik gnome have been discussing (and mildly quarreling) about the object in question.  They are speaking in their own language (which the rockfolk share)  and do not worry about being overheard because they see no other rockfolk and the locals have already not reacted to test statements, either of warning or insulting.   They have ignored the movement of humans in the room, as none menace them.

…………………………………………….

“You are greedy,” the gnome said.

“I am not,” the dwarf said. “But if gold falls into my hand, I will not let it slide through my fingers.”

“If it is not your gold–“

“All the better.” The dwarf grinned. “Is it not obvious that the Girdish do not need that [object]? It came to them by thievery, after all–(an editorial snip here).”

“We cannot keep it!” the gnome said. “It is not ours; we neither made it nor bought it!”

“Excuse me.” A human hand intruded between them, flat on the table, and as they looked up they saw a tall clean-shaven man all in black. They realized he was speaking in their language only as he introduced himself. “Arvid Semminson, of Tsaia. It would be impolite to conceal from rockbrethren my fluent command of their speech, and perhaps by so doing discover that of their plans they would prefer not to have revealed.” He smiled, showing very human teeth; they noted also the sword and dagger he carried, and smelled the metal of hidden blades he wore here and there about him. Good steel. Excellent steel.

“You are that thief,” the gnome said, recovering first.

“I am no thief,” Arvid said, without heat. “It is true I am in the Thieves’ Guild, but she of whom you speak would agree I am not a thief.”

………………………………………….

Conversation and some time passes.   In the next snippet, the setting is in the guest quarters of the Girdish headquarters, and the participants are Arvid and a Marshal of Gird who is his escort.

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The Marshal turned sharply. “You seriously think the [object] is in danger–you do not trust that we have secure locks?

“I trust that in a center of Girdish learning, surrounded by those who follow the Code of Gird, you have little experience with really skilled thieves, or–since you forbid magery–with the way enchanted objects can sway minds. I know that two determined rockfolk–and rockfolk will know things about this place you do not–expect to make away with it.”

The Marshal shook his head. “Impossible. The buildings here are on bedrock–“

“Rockfolk,” Arvid murmured.

Silence. Then, “Oh,” said the Marshal. “You mean they could–“

“Tunnel through it? Certainly.”

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I’m not sure why I was unable to undo some of the formatting but not all of it.   (Edit:  because Word annoyingly included the formatting details blind–I couldn’t see them being added until I published it.  Grump.  And now I’ve fixed it and will try to divvy it up so it has a “read more” section.  Let’s see if that works….)   But you get the idea.  Some of you will have leaps of genius and guess what [object] is.  But for the sake of not spoilering it for others, please let’s not be any more specific for the moment.  This is what the better parts of first draft look like, by the way.  Sometimes.  When the story’s flowing.