to move the conversation in another, less excitable direction.
"And they're soon to be running away!" Bruenor shot back at him, and the cheering grew even louder.
There was no way to go against it, Regis recognized. The emotions were too high, the anger bubbling over into the ecstasy of revenge.
"We should take no chances," Regis said, but no one was listening. "We should move with care," he said, but no one was listening. "We have them held now," he tried to explain. "How long will their forces hold together out there in the cold and snow when they know that there is nowhere left for them to march? Without the hunger of conquest, the orc momentum will stall, and so will their hearts for battle."
Nanfoodle's hand on his arm broke the halfling's gaining momentum, for it made Regis understand that Nanfoodle was the only one who even realized he was talking, that the dwarves, cheering wildly and leaping about, couldn't even hear his whispered words.
"We'll get out fast," the gnome assured him. "These engineers are magnificent. They will make wide tunnels, do not fear. The Battlehammer dwarves will come against the orcs before the orcs know they are being attacked."
Regis nodded, not doubting any of those specifics, but still very uneasy about the whole plan.
A clap on his other shoulder turned him around, to see Wulfgar crouching beside him.
"It is time to turn the orcs back to the north," the big man said. "It is time to put the vermin back in their mountain holes, or in the cold ground."
"I just.. ." Regis started.
"It is the loss of Dagna," said Wulfgar.
Regis glanced up at him.
"You struck out forcefully and the cost was heavy," the barbarian explained. "Is it so surprising that you would be less eager to strike out again?"
"You think it was my fault?"
"I think you did the right thing, and everyone here agreed and agrees still," Wulfgar answered with a reassuring smile. "If Dagna could reach out from the Halls of Moradin, he would pick you up by the collar and send you running to lead the charge out the eastern doors." Wulfgar put his hand on the halfling's shoulder - and from shoulder to neck, Regis disappeared under that gigantic paw.
The halfling tuned back in to the wider conversation then, in time to hear Bruenor shouting orders to send signalers up the chimneys to the mountain-top, to tell the Felbarr boys across the river that it was time to send Obould running.
The cheering drowned out everything, and even Regis and Nanfoodle were swept up in it.
It was time to send Obould running!
* * * * *
"Before winter!" came the shout, and the roar that was heard in the common room of the human refugees was as loud as that of the dwarves above vowing vengeance on King Obould. Word had filtered down the corridors of Mithral Hall that Citadel Felbarr had come, and that King Bruenor and his dwarves were preparing to burst out of their imprisonment.
The River Surbrin would be secured - that much seemed certain - and the dwarves had promised to set up passage over the river to the lands still tamed. They would cross the Surbrin before winter.
"Never again will I be crawling into any tunnels!" one man shouted.
"But huzzah to King Bruenor and his clan for their hospitality!" shouted another and a great cheer went up.
"Silverymoon before the snow!" one shouted.
"Everlund!" argued another.
"There's word that Nesme's looking for hearty souls," added another, "to rebuild what the trolls tore down."
Each city mentioned drew a louder cheer.
Each one stung Delly as acutely as the bite of a wasp. She moved through the crowd nodding, smiling, and trying to be happy for them. They had been through so much turmoil, had seen loved ones die and houses burned to the ground. They had trekked across miles of rocky ground, had suffered the elements and the fear of orcs nipping at their heels all the way to Mithral Hall.
Delly wanted to be happy for them, for they deserved a good turn of fortune. But when the news had come down that the dwarves were preparing the breakout in earnest, and that they expected to open the way for the refugees to leave, all Delly could think about was that soon she would again be alone.
She had Colson of course, and Wulfgar when he was not up fighting - which was rarely of late. She had the dwarves, and she cared for them greatly.