No one spoke. Three pairs of eyes stared at him.
Balin curled his lip and muttered:
"What are you looking at me for? That's it. There's nothing else."
"Quit keeping us in suspense, short stuff," Tristana said bluntly. "What's the reason?"
Once the Duergar had withdrawn, the female Drow had evidently cast aside the "humility" she had learned in New Rolling Stone City and reclaimed her old arrogance.
Perhaps Lolth's oracle had given her confidence, making her feel she had regained her goddess's favor.
As for the so-called "guidance" the Priestess had mentioned, Renato thought it sounded more like working for a god. By comparison, he suddenly felt that Dakoul, who never demanded anything of him, was actually a pretty decent deity.
The two traded insults for a while, in the Dwarf language and Elvish respectively. Balin picked up his waterskin, took a sip, and grumbled:
"What's there to tell? Besides, it's got nothing to do with you, long-ears..."
The old Dwarf glanced at Renato, who was cooking. The human said nothing, but could not hide the curiosity in his eyes.
"Oh, fine." Balin sighed. "It all happened over a hundred years ago. If you're that set on hearing it, I'll tell you a little."
Renato stopped stirring the soup and gave him his full attention.
"I was young back then," Balin began slowly, his gaze growing distant as though he were looking back into his memories. "Hadn't even grown a proper beard, but I was already stubborn and foul-tempered. Couldn't stand those old bastards who threw their weight around in the Tribe."
"My father was just a miner, and I was the fourth child. There was no money to send me off as an apprentice, so naturally no master was willing to teach me a trade."
"Most people my