"Rats," the dwarf spat with a grimace.  "Miles underland, miles overland, goblins, and we've been set to roust out a passel of rats?"<br/><br/>He grumbles for a moment, glancing at the others at the table.  He looks at the Royal Seal on the amulet of the commission, and a slow smile crosses his face.<br/><br/>"Aye.  Rats.  We've not likely to start against giants nor dragons straight off, eh?  Must have a start, why not slaughterin' the wee beasties?"<br/><br/>Meredith nods as well.<br/><br/>"I agree.  Zemoc, I shall accompany you as well to the mill."<br/><br/>"That be three," Tormbor announces, glancing at Olga and Glenda.  "What say you?"