hallway on the night when Torgar Hammerstriker was dragged back to Mirabar," Shoudra remarked.
"Djaffar? Loud? Well, he usually is, I suppose," Nanfoodle bluffed, thinking himself quite clever. "In any hallway, I would guess, though I've not seen nor heard him in any hallway that I can recall."
"Truly?" Shoudra said, a wry grin widening on her beautiful face. "And yet you were not surprised to hear that Torgar Hammerstriker was dragged back to Mirabar? How, then, is this not news to you?"
"Well,!... well..."
The little gnome threw up his hands in defeat.
"You heard him, that night, outside my door."
"I did."
"And you told Agrathan."
Nanfoodle gave a great sigh and said, "Should he not know? Should the dwarves be oblivious to the actions of their marchion?"
"And it is your place to tell them?"
"Well..." Nanfoodle gave a snort, and another, and stamped his foot. "I do not know!"
He gnashed his teeth for a few moments, then looked up at Shoudra, and was surprised to sec an expression on her face that was quite sympathetic.
"You feel as betrayed as T," he remarked.
"The marchion owes me, and you, nothing," the woman was quick to respond. "Not even an explanation."
"Yet you seem to think that we owe him something in return."
Shoudra's eyes widened and she seemed to grow very tall and terrible before the little gnome.
"You owe to him because he is Mirabar!" she scolded. "It is the position, not the man, deserving and demanding of your respect, Nanfoodle the Foolish."
"I am not of Mirabar!" the gnome shot back, with unexpected fury. "I was brought in for my expertise, and T am paid well because I am the greatest in my field."
"Your field? You are a master of illusion and a master of the obvious all at once," Shoudra countered. "You are a carnival barker, a trickster and a - "
"How dare you?" Nanfoodle yelled back. "Alchemy is the greatest of the Arts, the one whose truths we have not yet uncovered. The one that holds the promise of power for all, and not just a select few, like those powers of Shoudra and her ilk, who guard mighty secrets for personal gain."
"Alchemy is a means to make a few potions of minor magic, and a bit of powder that blows up more often on its creator than on its intended target. Beyond that, it is a sham, a lie perpetrated by the cunning on the greedy. You can no more strengthen the metal of Mirabar's mines than transmute lead into gold."
"Why, from the solid earth I can create hungry mud at your feet to swallow you up!" Nanfoodle roared.
"With water?" Shoudra calmly asked, the simple reply taking most of the bluster from the excited gnome, visibly shrinking him back to size.
He started to reply, stammering indecipherably, and just gave a snort, and remarked, "Not all agree with your estimation of the value of alchemy."
"Indeed, and some pay well for the unfounded promises it otters."
Nanfoodle snorted again. "The point remains that I owe nothing to your marchion beyond my position to him as my employer," he reasoned, "and only as my current employer, as I am a freelance alchemist who has served many well-paying folks throughout the wide lands of the North. I could walk into Waterdeep tomorrow and find employ at near equal pay."
"True enough," Shoudra replied, "but I have not asked you for any loyalty to Elastul, only to Mirabar, this city that you have come to name as your home. I have been watching you closely, Nanfoodle, ever since Councilor Agrathan came to me with his knowledge of the imprisonment of Torgar. I have replayed many times my encounter with Djaffar, and I know whose door it is that abuts my own. You are out this day, walking nervously, meandering your course, which is obviously to the mines and the dwarves. I share your frustration and understand well that which gnaws at your heart, and so, since Councilor Agrathan has taken little action, you have decided to tell others. Friends of Torgar, likely, in an effort to start some petition against the marchion's actions and gel Torgar freed from his cell, wherever that may be."
"I have decided to tell the friends of Torgar only so that they might know the truth," Nanfoodle admitted, and corrected. "What actions they might take are their own to decide."
"How democratic," came the sarcastic reply.
"You just said you share my frustrations," Nanfoodle retorted.
"But not your foolishness, it would seem," Shoudra was quick to respond. "Do you truly understand the implications?