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The dwarf with blade and burnished shield shouldered his way through the busy market goers. On his armor, he wore his worship: a golden crest made clear his piety. He set his sights on the battered wagon arriving.
"Any word from Nakuthdeler?"
The trader's eyes flashed with opportunity, looking the holy warrior up and down. "And what does the church want with that information?"
"Not the church, merchant. One of the settlers is kin."
The trader quickly looked back to his yak, gruffly adjusting the animal's reins.
"Dead. All dead."
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The dwarvish knight took knee before the bishop.
"Our church's resources are limited, Mistem -- dwarves the likes as you've requested are in a particularly short supply. What do you hope to gain by leading such a squadron into those grim wilds?" As he spoke, the bishop received a proffered chalice of dwarven wine from a servant and dismissed him.
"As has been discussed, there are great riches there in the name of Ardem. My brother knew what those hills would offer, and he left in the name of the church and of Ardem."
"Your brother was a mad man," spoke the bishop. The knight grimaced.
The bishop set aside his wine and stood, deliberating his words.
"What you seek in Nakuthdeler is vindication for your kindred's death, knight," the bishop pontificated. "You may not hold evil in contempt and expect to quench your vengeance. There are riches indeed, but one may find there far greater evils than any treasure. Your insolent brother has made this much clear."
The knight knelt quietly, yet within emotions boiled.
"Still, to reclaim that land in the name of Arden promises great prestige to our chapter, and you happen to be a proven leader in the face of scarcity."
Mistem found himself thanking Ardem for the greed and ambition of such dwarves as the bishop.
The dignitary roused and turned. His well-groomed beard dragged behind him as he did so.
"I will arrange a strike force, then. Depart on the first of the month. You'll arrive when Spring begins if you do not tarry."
"Thank you, your holiness," Mistem loudly chirped.
"Until that time, keep busy with arrangements for supplies."
"Indeed! I'll have Asmel begin arrangements immediately as well."
"Very good."
"Excellent then, your holiness! I am indebted to you. I shall begin immediately."
The knight leapt spryly to his feet to depart.
"Mistem," the bishop called sternly. The knight halted and turned.
"Should you live, I expect your gratitude to this church to be made plain, both here and in Nakuthdeler."
Mistem's bearded chin bowed.
"You are dismissed."
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So the whole settlement was wiped out by an infernal dust cloud. Reclaiming now with some poorly armored dwarves.