Wierd was both pleased, and worried at the same time. (A curious blending of emotional states that leaves one feeling cheated at the lack of proper enjoyment, and distress over a tenuously deteriorating situation.)
Reminding fearless leader of the fine print of his own town charter had apparently driven him to act like wierd had put a cocklebur down his shorts. It wasn't at all hard to see how Koreg was not even the least bit pleased by this, and his body language bespoke plots of subtle retribution-- wierd had seen this kind of petty "I AM the law!" type behavior in politicians before, and it bothered him deeply that such a rotten cancer was festering away in the city mayor. Was it really so wrong to insist that foundational policy be upheld? Apparently so, when it interferes with fearless leader's plans of grandure.
That sour bit of local politics aside, the recent test scores for his renter had made him quite pleased. Unlike Koreg, who was only interested in abusing the patronage legislation to buy up half of the dutchy for his own dreams of avarice, he himself was more excited about the prospects of using the alloted land parcels for furthering the quality of life for nevertaxed. Having plain white clothes was better than being naked, but everyone looked like they were part of some cult or something. There was very little "color" to nevertaxed, unless you counted the dirty politics. Getting the milling industry running would open the doors to a dying industry, and then quality, well colored cloth would flow through the clothier industry, and every dwarf large or small could have his or her choice in brightly colored attire. The milling industry would improve the quality of meals served at the plum as well. All things that contribute to the happiness and healthiness of nevertaxed. Living in a noisy industrial cottage was well worth it, seeing downtrodden dwarves live better lives than those in the mountain homes.
But Koreg's abuse of the system, going through all the motions, but without the spirit behind it, sickened him in ways he could not put in words. Ensuring that Fearless Leader at least follow the letter of his own laws was, as far as he was concerned, the very LEAST that should be done.
Perhaps he could speak with EvictedSaint, concerning the trustworthiness of an economic parrtner that cannot even be trusted to follow his own rules, in light of the export contracts he had with her. Perhaps he could convince her that Koreg was repeatedly demonstrating how unprincipled and untrustworthy he is. The thought was just as disgusting as the very heinous actions of Koreg himself; manouvering through twisted, double dealings and actions taken without conscience or integrity. For now, he kept these thoughts to himself.
At least Beneviento had the integrity to uphold his rental contract, in full legal and moral standing-- The cancerous behavior of the first citizen, mayor koreg, had not spread its virulence through the lay common people as yet. That was grounds for a quiet moment of inner happiness. When enough additional property had been awarded, he would see about sponsoring more than one renter at a time, to increase the rate that nevertaxed could crawl itself up from the filth, and shine like the jewel of free enterprise it was promised to be. When, and only when, the city was fully self-sufficient as a legendary maker of crafts of all kinds, with no want for any product great or small, would he finally settle down and enjoy the benefits of his founder status.
Unlike that Koreg, who just wanted an ever bigger mansion, and greater seperation from the people supporting his socioeconomic hedonism.
Give a worm like him even the slightest oportunity, and they will compromise everything they come in contact with; making holes in the foundations of society for thier own gain, and everyone else's loss.
Hammering a bung into an especialy nice barrel of authentic dwarven wine, produced from the small stock of authentic dwarven food staples he cultivated in his basement, he made a silent toast to beneviento, and did his best to will away to stench that Koreg made of everything.
Gods, he wanted his old table back.