The filthy old dwarf suddenly appeared in the corner of a thatched hut. He had salt-and-pepper hair, and his short robe was so dirty that its color was indiscernible. It also emitted a strange smell, not the kind from lack of bathing, but something more bizarre and pungent.
"Materials, materials... one can never have too many materials..."
He deftly flipped the pile of dry straw he was sitting on, revealing a large collection of bottles and jars as dirty as himself, flashed a grin, quickly counted the items, grabbed a few bottles, stuffed them into his bag, and then covered the spot back up with straw before sneaking out the door.
Indeed, one can never have too many materials, and he was now off to find some. Although it might not be the best time, it would become even harder to find people after midnight, especially during these days following the disappearance of the last two test subjects when those foolish incompetents had become more vigilant.
