As Pyrridin entered the forge the noise of hammer and tongs abruptly stopped.
Shortly after came a grunt from far below Pyrridin. "Oh, it's you."
The speaker –not visible until you turned the corner and they were no longer bent over their work– was a black dwarf, whose face had a more than usual surliness to it.
"It's as if they think I've nothing better to do than melt pewter for cups and keep their horses shod." he grumbled. He looked towards Pyrridin. "I suppose you've got a nail loose or somat? Or I'm to make knights out of tin for the little prince who's yet to be. May he choke on them."
It had, apparently, been a long day.
Pyrridin continued gazing at him for a long moment. "I need nothing from you, Gimruddy."
Gimruddy stared back. Though many of the smaller creatures would crowd into the forge when the dwarfs allowed, the centaurs were not in the habit of coming just to sit next to the fire. They were too big to fit comfortably, for one. For another, they got on Gimruddy's nerves, and many of the other dwarfs felt the same. Good creatures to have behind you in a fight though.
Gimruddy raised his eyebrows. "Just here for my delightful company then, are you?"
"I thought to speak with you before I leave on the morrow." Pyrridin replied.
Gimruddy's eyebrows went up still further, and they were sufficiently luxuriant that they did actually begin to touch his hairline. "Oh?"
It seemed to Gimruddy that if Pyrridin had been a dwarf he'd have sighed then, but all he said was: "It is difficult to speak with dwarves. You are such reasonable creatures."
Gimruddy gave a grim smile. "My apologies."
Pyrridin went on then, almost as if Gimruddy had not spoken: "I will say only this much then. The stars say what will be. But what evil they foretell need not come from us, and the good they promise may come through another if we fail."
"Hmph. Clear as mud, as always, Pyrridin. If you've nothing more to say, I've got to finish these horseshoes."
"I do have one more thing to say." the centaur said, in the implacable, sarcasm-proof way of his kind. "Remember, the Lord of the Forges looks down on you. You are a crafty smith and know that to mold quicksilver is a fool's errand; I would have you remember that a thief does not simply stop being a thief, and he dares greater and greater thefts as his boldness grows."
Gimruddy made no response but to stare steadily over at Pyrridin (while impatiently shifting his hammer and tongs.)
Pyrridin gave him one more long, searching look, then turned, and unceremoniously trotted out of the forge.
