The three of them were still seated, mugs of ale in hand. Balthor looked as if he was still wrestling with himself over whether he should appear and take on the role of Tharvaldur's new king.
"Hey, drunk dwarf," Noel said, leaning back in his chair. "You've been running a business like yours for fifty years. After everything you've been through, don't you think managing a place with just a few thousand people would be easier too?"
Balthor and Noriel both looked at him like he was making fun of them.
"You know holding the lives of thousands in your hands isn't the same as looking after three or four, right?" Noriel said.
"No idea," Noel replied with a shrug. "I'm just a guy who's never had that responsibility, and I hope I never will. But with help, I'm sure you could pull it off. King Alveron IV will be coming, Balthor… and your brother Torwan will likely fall. What they do to him after that won't be pretty. They'll want answers."
