Short man Eron shook his head and grunted as he pushed his cart through the main hall. His clothes were pressed tight against his body with sweat. He stopped to wipe the sweat from his eyes with trembling hands, his face riddled with frustration. "Stupid! Stupid! Why did they have to go into that ruin? Now they're all dead, and I'm hungry."
The work of smuggling Starsalt had paused with the Nyxori going in for their operation. Many workers who didn't follow but had been waiting for their return were left disappointed and hungry. There was no Starsalt to sell for food or potions.
"Even the mines don't know what to do with the unprocessed Starsalt. What a joke. It's already been a month! I'm sure they're in some monster's belly. I'm glad I didn't go," he sneered. "They think they can clear what the Flagbearers themselves couldn't? Fools!"
"What are you harping about so early in the morning, old man?" a deep female voice asked from behind.
