Meanwhile, in an undisclosed location, a group of dwarves met in a dark, candlelit underground bunker. The five men sat around a large rectangular table, made of prime oak wood with dwarven runes inscribed along the edges.
"Gentlemen, this cannot stand!"
A sallow-cheeked dwarf with a thick, grey beard grumbled in a low tone. He wore an elegant black tunic with a bronze dragon brooch. Although his thinning hair and pale face appeared weathered, the man himself held a noble demeanour.
"Ivar, the head has yet to speak!" Another dwarf, with faded ginger hair and a curled beard, he wore the same bronze brooch, with a pair of leather gloves on his hands, who lifted his gold-rimmed monocle to examine the documents on the oak table. He then turned to the mature dwarf with deep orange hair and sharp blue eyes.
"What's the matter, Modus?" The dwarf sitting at the head asked.
"M-Master, I was just curious about today's information regarding Miss Lun and the Patriarch."
