Artaith grunts acknowledgement of the young guard's sort-of-apology. She jumps a bit when the bolt goes flying, with a short bark of surprise and concern. Stepping forward, she places a broad hand on the bottom of the portcullis, as if to hold it up in the event of further misfortune. Fortunately, the need doesn't come. Wide-eyed and cautious, she watches warily as Philemon lines him out.

The Dwarf woman's eyes widen at the shopkeeper's obvious boast. A quick glance around reinforces Philemon's polite objection, and somewhat masks her incredulous snickering. "Oy, that temple's seen better days," she grunts. After a moment, following the local towards the inn, she mutters, "Whole place looks like it can't possibly have seen any worse ones...."