"Still," you considered, "Elves aren't a regular sight in Wallowdale. This might be my only chance to ever get near them."
Rising from your perch in the windowsill, you begin making your way over to the corner booth, doing your best to stay hidden in the shadows until you are hovering above the trio. Attempting to keep the fluttering of your wings as silent as possible, you gently lower yourself down onto the small ledge created where the booth meets the wall. With the male elf's head now looming above you but still seemingly unaware, you begin to eavesdrop:
"Honestly how do they live this way," you heard the male elf spit with palpable disgust. "This... Inn... makes me long for a tent. At least there it is clean... and quiet."
You hear the elder female elf chuckle softly. "I understand, Thamior, but what do you expect? We have culture, the arts, other races have... this. You can sit and be sour but if you only lived for 80 years perhaps you would be a bit more reckless too."
"Yes, I agree with Meriele!" You hear the youngest chime in. "Plus, consider the anthropological knowledge we could gain from just one evening here! In fact, perhaps I should talk with some of the locals, it could be invaluable for-"
"That will not be necessary, Ayla." replied the male elf sharply. "I do not believe anyone in an establishment such as this would have anything of value to teach us and I would like to keep our presence here as discreet as possible. As it is, I fear we may have curious ears listening already."
"Curious ears?" You wonder. "Does he-?"
Before you can finish your own thought, the gigantic head of the male elf whips around. Having been focused on the conversation, you notice too late Thamior had subtly dispensed a paralysis powder into his hand. Holding up his open palm, he blows a cloud of the powder at you! Within seconds, you feel everything below your neck begin to seize up! Grabbing you with two fingers around your waist, Thamior sets you in the middle of the table as Meriele and Ayla look down on with interest.
Trying to contain his anger, Thamior speaks first. "Did you think I would not hear the telltale flutter of your wings, young fairy? Eavesdropping on a group of elves is liable to get one killed. I may have to dispose of you for your inquisitiveness."
"Oh come now, Thamior," spoke the older female elf, seemingly less concerned by your presence. Snatching you off the table, her soft fingers begin examining your tiny body as her massive face looks down on you with bemusement. "Really, what are the odds this fairy heard anything of any interest? Besides, this could be a great research opportunity."
Gently pulling you from Meriele's probing fingers, Ayla gazes down on you with a barely contained smile, her large blue eyes wide with excitement. "I could take care of the fairy, sir," she says, her focus still fixed on you. "After all, an elf of your stature has bigger things to concern himself with then this small spy."
"Silence, all," Thamior commanded, ending the conversation. "I have decided..."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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