The Gray Dwarf Official followed behind Roy, looking somewhat awkward. He even wanted to give the Gray Dwarf aunties a few hints, but for the moment, he did not know how to express himself. He could only nervously clasp his hands before his chest.
Those Gray Dwarf aunties could not understand the Elven Language Roy spoke. They stared blankly at the Gray Dwarf Official, who translated Roy's question for them.
He spoke at least five sentences. Once the Gray Dwarf aunties understood Roy's question, they began chattering away in Dwarvish.
"We'll wait until the last batch of wheat on the mountain is harvested, then leave with the wagons hauling beams."
That was how the Gray Dwarf Official translated it for Roy.
Clearly, the Gray Dwarf aunties had said far more than that. The Gray Dwarf Official had automatically filtered out plenty of it.
The streets of the Underground City were broad, far more orderly than those aboveground. Roy wandered around and indeed saw Gray Dwarves who had packed their belongings, lining up in organized queues to leave Presites.
Their luggage was simple. A rolled blanket was tied atop each backpack, while canteens, axes, picks, and daggers hung from their waists. They wore long boots of animal hide, making them look like travelers preparing for a long journey.
Roy knew Presites was currently short on wagons. All the Gray Dwarves leaving Presit City had to rely on their own legs.
Boles City was nearly three hundred kilometers away. It would probably take the Gray Dwarves five days to walk there...
Roy noticed that the Gray Dwarf warriors in the city were low in morale. Perhaps they had all received notice to prepare to withdraw from Presites, or perhaps seeing so many residents leave had made guarding this city seem meaningless...
Recently,