Pandemonium Elf Ears Aren't Long Enough

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Deep in the Falwoods…

The company of soldiers trudged along the worn trails between the oaks and pines with forlorn weariness, their chests heaving slow, steady breaths. Those on foot were particularly worn, as one could tell by their slouching appearances and low cast gazes. Their chain mail armor bore heavy burdens on their bodies which only furthered the weakness felt in their calves. One such body, a banner bearer who was leaning on the flag pole like a walking stick, slowly tottered towards the front of the ranks as the group stopped and awaited orders from the head, coming forward to try and listen in on that which was going on between the family.

“Dorinthellar, honestly, to be mucking about chasing wisp’o’willows! What’d your father say were he here now?!”

“Saavallah, he isn’t here now, and the very reason he isn’t here now is the reason why we’re out here in the first place, or did you forget?” he said sternly.

The flag bearer watched as the two at the head of the battalion bickered between each other before a brother in arms clasped him on the shoulder.

“Best not pry on the affairs of your betters, young one. Stick to your post… We’ll be moving shortly,” said an obviously older elf, the flag bearer nodding and trudging back to his position.

The group of three hundred or so stood amidst the forest, regrouping after fanning out shoulder to shoulder to search for signs of what they were looking for, without any luck. Dorinthellar, his proud gaze fanning the view between the towering trees, frowned as no word of any signs were passed. Fruitless, again. It was the third week they’ve been out here. Saavallah, the woman perched atop the white steed next to his own, shook her head as her jet black hair curtained her face a moment, to hide her annoyance. ‘It is not my place,’ she thought to herself, yet she wanted to scream at her Elder for the waste of resources. Dorinthellar did not fancy foolishness, yet here they were, searching for tendrils of smoke beneath the clouds. Dorinthellar could feel her thoughts pulsating through the strands, and gave her a soft smile.

“My Saavallah, I shouldn’t have brought this upon the rest of the family… I sometimes forget about how I bare the chains of the past in fervent passion…” He looked about the company to see the fruitlessness blossoming in their minds, many a elf stricken with exhaustion. Saavallah raised her head, her chiseled features following her leader’s, before the man drove his horse towards those at the front of the procession.

“Listen here, all of you!” He bellowed to the soldiers, heads perking up with interest. “I am forever thankful of the help you’ve given me in such a task as this… I know it seems folly, and few truly understand why I search for a hermit’s hut! I have asked all of you to help in this search for I felt too daunted to go of it alone, but now I see whether alone or with a thousand brave souls my outcome will be the same! I call off this search, for the lot of you, and bid you farewell in departure of Fal’Addas! Your deeds will not be forgotten, brethren, May the Sun Shine Through the Trees and Light Your Path!”

“And of you, good sir, what will the tale be of you, when we return without our Lord?” piped up an older elf, near the front of the procession. Dorinthellar waved a hand as if batting away a fly.

“The Council understands my predicament better than the common folk would like to, believe me! They will know it is of no ill will of which I do not return. I will follow your trail through the wild after I find my elusive prey, rest assured. You all have done more than enough, and I only wish that the branch of our journey bore fruit so we may all share in the feelings of a job well done! Alas, tis not the case, however to know my spirit is regarded enough for those of you to continue on for me without complaint,” Dorinthellar curtsied from atop his horse, “I am most thankful. Saavallah, lead our people home,” said Dorinthellar, before turning away. The black haired elf tried to grip onto her Elder’s shoulder, yet not well enough as he spurred his horse into gallop, disappearing from view…

… Dorinthellar rode for two days, his mind haunted by visions of the past as he contemplated from atop the horse’s back. When he stopped for the night he lit no fire, and did not sleep, his mind bent on the images which floated through memory. His long blond hair, tied in a knot at the top when in company of nobility, flowed freely as he wandered through the deep wilds of his ancestral home. Wrinkles were wrought where thought had subdued them into his skin’s memory, Head of the House Anda’Fallar being a harrowing task not for the feint of heart. At least, not for those who couldn’t stomach the processions of elven court.

The middle-aged elf rode for another day until, by chance, he happened upon a lone building of kinder structure, an inn built in the side of a rolling hill which boasted its presence by the large red circular door which screamed of its existence, as well as a few porthole windows here and there. Dorinthellar knew well of the kinder kind, those little halflings trading often with his people, a light-hearted, kind bunch whose presence the Lord thoroughly enjoyed. Therefore, he decided to stop here, and rest for a bit. He unpacked the saddlebags from his steed and set them at the doorway as the handle was turned, and the cheeky face of a plump little woman popped into view.

“G’day m’lord! Fancy seein’ an elf here! Not that many don’t find our doorstep, mind you, just been fewer as of late, to which I’d no idea why! Always love the company of elves I do, less stinky than the humans and orcs who stomp about, I think!” the blushing face said in a high pitched tone.

“Well I am an elf, yes, but you may find I might do a bit of stomping myself, little master!” he responded lightheartedly, to which she laughed.

“Aye, at least your humor’s good! Are you lookin’ for a room tonight, perchance?” she asked.

“Yes, little master, that would be most hospitable of you,” said Dorinthellar, already warming to her cheery nature. His green eyes smiled with his lips, and she returned the gesture with her own.

“We’ve got just the room ready and waiting, I’ll have my boys move your bags for you sirs, no trouble at all!” she snapped her fingers and two smaller (if that were possible) hobbits of less than a foot and a half tall began to drag the saddle bags up the steps, in obvious struggle. Dorinthellar couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, mirth flowing from his lips which warmed the innkeeper like the hearth of her fire. “I must apologize for the lack of troughs and rest area for your horse, m’lord, most adventurers tend to travel on foot and my husband and I’ve no love for not resting our feet on the earth, so we never got around to building one up, to be honest with ya,” she said, her voice trailing off as if it were of grave mistake, yet Dorinthellar just waved the notion away.

“No no, little master, my horse knows its way to me, as its necessary. I normally let her roam free if I’m not in present need of her assistance.” As he said this, unstrapping the saddle, the beast cantered off into the distance, at which the innkeeper asked,

“And you’re not afraid she’d be eaten, m’lord?” Dorinthellar shrugged his shoulders.

“Such is the way of life, if it were to happen then it would have been for the ways of the world. As of yet, she has not, and I will boast she is faster than most beasts who walk the earth.” The innkeeper nodded as if she believed him, even though she’d thought otherwise. Elves tended to boast, she thought, yet this one kept it simple, at least. She beckoned for him to follow her inside just as the last of the saddlebags disappeared from the doorstep, Dorinthellar having to stoop to follow her through. Once inside, shutting the door behind him, he found that he could stand normally once in the halls of the inn, his head just inches from the ceiling, however. He wouldn’t be jumping, so this didn’t seem a concern.

“Please, please, sit and relax, make yourself comfortable! We have many a beverages to choose from behind the bar, and dinner’s to be served in an hour and half past, you eat meat, yes m’lord? I’ve found some elves tend not to,” said the kinder woman as he looked upon a bar area, the average looks of a tavern. Tables and chairs littered about the room in front of him, a bar with many assortments of taps and glass bottles of vintage wines behind it to the left, at the end of the hall behind all the chairs a hearth with a cackling fire, hanging above a large cauldron, bubbling stew boiling in its chamber.

“Yes little master, I eat meat, and I can smell the delectable aroma from here. You’re quite the cook, I am looking forward to our meal,” Dorinthellar said as he peered about for the doorway to the rooms. One was next to the bar, yet he assumed that to be the kitchen. “Where is that I may rest my head this evening?” he asked inquisitively, the little innkeeper moving towards the fire and knocking on a door next to it.

“Down the stairs, m’lord! I know some elves don’t like to be underground, but we make do with what we got around here, and the earth’s a plenty! There's a small attic room but it's not as spacious as the ones below, I think you'd find those underneath more to your liking,” she said, as if it were not to his taking, however Dorinthellar merely gave her an eyebrow waggle.

“I am a guest in your home, little master, and I thank you for your generousness. Whatever you may spare is enough for me,” he said to her, before the two little hobbits came out the door and squeaked,

“Bags are in the room mum! Now can we go out and play before it gets dark?” The woman nodded towards them and they squealed, running back outside, yelling and frolicking. Dorinthellar asked the woman for some of the wine they held and sat down in one of the old, oaken chairs, kicking his dusty boots off and resting his feet in another chair next to him. She came back and set a rather shiny goblet in front of him filled almost to the brim, which he sipped on slowly, before thanking her once more. Dorinthellar leaned back on the two hind legs of the chair and crossed his hands behind his head, elbows poking out, waiting for dinner to be served. He closed his eyes, content and relaxed.
 
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The young elf had been traveling for several weeks on her own at this time. She did not exactly have a destination, just let the road take her where it willed. Before she had left home he had a rather....heated....discussion with her elder brother.

Aegisess never did approve of her practicing with the bow, or the fact that she often traveled on her own. She had enjoyed her time at home and with her brother, but things turned sour when she announced she was going to go traveling again. They argued for several hours before he ordered that she be guarded in her room. This went about as well as expected, as she slipped out of her window in the dead of night and disappeared. She of course left a polite letter for her brother so that he would not panic...too much. Besides this was not the first and most certainly would not be the last time she would pull of this stunt.

Now she was just traveling from village to village, wherever she felt like going. It was not glamorous, but it was her choice. Most nights she rested under the stars eating her meals from anything she had managed to hunt that day. Other nights, she would rest at an inn or tavern she came across in her travels or between find mercenary work. Tonight seemed like it would be on of the nights as she spotted a sign for a small inn.

With night quickly approaching she decided to enter in. As she neared she nearly got run over by some halfling children as they dashed outside to play. She merely shook her head with a smile as the young ones didn't even seem to notice her as they went about their very important business of frolicking.
As soon as she went inside she was greeted cheerily by whom she could only assume was their mother. "G'day m'lady! My this is a rare treat! Seems like today is a popular day for elves! What can I do for ya m'lady?"

Mistalee gave the woman a warm smile. "A room for the evening if you have any avaible. Also a plate of whatever wonderful smelling food you have cooking!" she replied.

"Make yourself at home dearie! I will have something for ya to put some meat on those thin bones of yours!" she said before disapearing into the kitchen.

Emerald eyes scanned the room and she noticed the other guest. She gave him a polite smile and nod before finding herself a seat. Though she could not shake the feeling that she recognized the man...
 
Dorinthellar raised a brow at the elven woman who entered the scene, his own green eyes watching her curiously as she sat near him. The young woman... Her face... Dorinthellar struggled to grasp her origins at the moment, yet he knew her. He sipped from his goblet filled with wine as the leaned back elf day dreamed in ease, allowing himself slowness in thought given the current mood. The little hobbit woman bustled about as she made final preparations for dinner, refilling his goblet several times between passing, the sun now dipping below the horizon. The little hostess soon had a bowl in front of the both of them, Dorinthellar taking his feet off the chair opposite to him as silverware was brought out shortly after, and he looked into the bowl to find a creamy broth of white, as if milk itself, light colored beans, some greenery to spruce the scheme, and bits of chicken floating about. When he took a sip of the broth, he exclaimed,

"Aaaaaah, this is... This is unlike anything I've ever tasted before! What is the name of this dish, little master?" he asked, as the children ran in through the door, sweaty and mucky, yelling

"WHITE CHICKEN CHILI!!!" as they were followed by a stout, heavy set, middle aged hobbit, one who had been out hunting by the looks of it as he had a deer slung across his back. Dorinthellar was surprised to see a halfling carrying a deer by himself, until he realized another younger, slightly scrawnier hobbit carried the backside. The one at the head turned towards the kitchen and when his wife appeared, gave her a kiss on the cheek, muttering apologies to the guests as they hurriedly headed towards the recesses of the cooking area. After a moment, some grunts and bickering, the two hobbit-men came out to join the rest of the scene. By now the children were both sitting at the bar, told to do so by their mother, as she wanted to make sure none of the guests were bothered, hushed whispers about it able to be heard. She had a third out next to the younger boys, obviously for the older one who came in behind who was to be their father, sitting down excitedly as the younglings were already half way through their first bowls. The older hobbit then approached the two guests who sat at the main dining area, wife at his side, an arm wrapped around each other's waists.

"Welcome, strangers! M'names Gaffer, hope m'wife been treatin' ya well! I usually run things round here but when the food needs cookin' you'll ask fer her, fer sure!" He gave a boisterous laugh, his voice surprisingly low for one of his stature.

"Low to the ground, low made the sound," Dorinthellar muttered drunkenly under his breath, the wine obviously affecting him a bit, as he meant to keep that in his thoughts. Gaffer gave him a queer look, one that said danger was afoot as he stepped forward slowly, a menacing glare holding fire in the depths of his irises.

"Did you... Just insult me... Over a bowl... OF MY WIFE'S CHILI?!?!" the heavy set halfling roared as he let go of his wife, who was shaking her head as if to calm him down. The hobbit grabbed Dorinthellar by the collar of his green tunic which was just above a shirt of chain-mail, the clinking barely heard as his ears turned down in sign of meekness.

"N-n-no little-"

"LITTLE?!? I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW I'M TALLER THAN ALL IN THE OAK VALLEY SHIRE!"

"Yes, o-of course, I just meant-"

"YOU JUST MEANT TO OFFEND ME, IN MY OWN HOME, UNDER MY ROOF?!? YOU MAY HAVE TO STOOP BENEATH IT, WHATEVER YOUR NAME IS-"

"Dorinthellar, sir, House Anda'Fa-"

"HOUSE ANDA-FUCK IF I CARE, WITH THE WAY YOU SPEAK TO ME-"

A loud thunk was heard as Gaffer was struck atop his head by the ladle which was in the cauldron.

"Gabriel I swear! You do this the minute someone talks about your height, as if you haven't heard it all your life! Yer a kinder for Gaia's sake, grow a pair between yer legs since the damn stems won't grow anymore!" yelled the wife in her cheeky tone, a dualistic harmony to her husband's bassy shouts.

"Momma, whats that about growin' a pair?" asked one of the young children.

"Is that the-" the older brother of the two stole the second questioner's bowl, which made him stop mid-sentence in protest.

"Not until yer older kids!" the wife piped back. "Now, my apologies for the lack of courtesy you two! And my apologies for not introducin' myself either! I'm Brana, this is my husband Gabriel, the Gaffer he calls himself to strangers, likes to appear madder than he is! Rest assured, the hot blood doesn't run quite as hot as he'd like to make you believe!" She held the back of Gaffer's collar as they stood in front of the fire, his eyes returning to normal as he calmed down. Dorinthellar looked between the two with eyes of surprise, unsure of what to do.

"I'm... Dorinthellar, Lord of House Anda'Fallar, and I sincerely apologize for my rude behavior."

"Oh that's quite alri-"

"BWUAHAHAHAHA! BRANA, YOU SEE THE LOOK ON HIS FACE?! POOR ELF BEEN SCARED OUT OF HIS BOOTS! LOOK! THEY AIN'T EVEN ON HIS FEET! BWUAHAHA!" The fat halfling wiped a tear from his eye. "Worry not lad! I'd just mess with you fer a minute, my wife and I normally play this kind of game on strangers! Just seein' yer reaction, a priceless one it is!" He then looked over at the other elf who'd been occupying the room behind the Gaffer's victim. "Oi, lass! You gonna speak up er did the cat catch your tongue too?! BWUAHAHAHA!"

Mistalee
 
Ah'Har and Cla'Tria could spend no more than a few days in Elbion with the abundance of restrictions and checks on daily life there, but it was enough to see how different Liadain could be from Cerak. While the elf had some experience in the past with the city under dark of night before, he and his adopted little sister could share in experiencing the day-lit port city for the first time. The paved streets bustling with people who rarely kept watch for their safety, the buildings constructed with intent and made to stand the tests of time, diligent merchants who watched carefully for thieves while beaming honest smiles at potential customers. Compared to this place, Cerak really did seem like a wretched hive of scum and villainy.

Of course, even a diligent merchant would have trouble with experienced thieves. The elf could blend in easily with the crowds despite his hide and armor equipment, never stopping long enough to draw attention, and never sprinting off with guilty abandon. With his hood, save for his angular features he could pass for a tall human if anybody asked what he looked like. Some food from a stall here, a bit of coin from an unsuspecting customer there, he was careful to not get greedy, and even after a stop by an alchemist's shop for some medicine he was almost a gold richer for his troubles. It may not have been much, but without the necessary contacts to arrange for an escort from the trade city, it was more than enough to find the mismatched siblings a place on a wagon heading out, leaving them with enough coin for supplies and a few nights wherever they could find.

Cla'Tria would have liked to stay a little longer, but she knew that she would see the city again in the future and resigned herself to the thrill of adventure! Even if that adventure was little more than watching the world go by from the safety of a guarded wagon. Any time she felt properly satiated with the scenery, she could just play card games with Ah'Har, honing her skills and her poker face, though she had a long way to go in both.

Ah'Har mostly just rested in a paper-thin sleep, always sleeping to cover his heart with a hand lolling near his primary weapon. The sound of the wagon's wheels and the conversations Cla'Tria held with the traders who owned it tended to fade into an almost white noise, nothing of too much importance being discussed other than homelands and local trivia. When awake and with nothing better, the elf decided to draw a hand and see if there was anything worth note by fate's decree.

Five cards. Ace of Coins, Ace of Hearts, Four of Keys, Captain of Hearts, Admiral of Locks. Hardly a strong hand in a game, with plenty of potential, and a note of curiosity for the hand's dealer.

"Pardon me, is there someplace to stay nearby?" Ah'Har asked, breaking what had been a tendency of silence on his part.

"An hour ride past the next fork in the side of a hill, but it's going the opposite path from us and is a bit short. Hobbits, you know?" The driver said, seeming to peer towards the horizon in front of them as if trying to make sure it would be up ahead.

"So near dark by foot? That's fine." The elf confirmed without concern for a small price to follow Fate's guiding hand towards opportunity.

The reptilian child looked to the elf with a moment of curiosity, then beaming realization as she saw through the stony facade upon her brother's face to the true twinkle of contentment in the subtle way he packed a hand of cards back into their deck box.

"Is it something good?" She asked with hope glowing in her voice.

"We'll see." Came the short reply from her guardian. They would just need to wait a little longer before continuing their journey on-foot, and hopefully the elf's faith would not be misplaced.

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After a fond farewell to the friendly merchant and a bit of a walk, Cla'Tria humming just about the whole way down a dirt road, the pair eventually managed to happen across a structure jutting from a hill. As promised, the building looked a bit short when compared to the full-sized structures of Elbion, reminding the two of ramshackle places made by the shorter peoples of Cerak, who cared little for the comfort of taller people in their design.

Cla'Tria excitedly ran ahead, no trouble seeming to be afoot outside of the building, but she stopped short of the door at the muffled sounds of shouting and arguing coming from within. She might have been more than happy to see the inside of the inn they had been guided to, but when voices got that loud it tended to be a better idea to hole up somewhere else. She looked over to her approaching brother, whose left

The inside was barely tall enough for your average human, and Ah'Har was taller by a bit than that and had to lower his head and crouch slightly lest his hood be taken off by the relatively low ceiling. He approached the open area cautiously scanning for anything amiss, but hardly lowered his guard even as he came to understand the situation. The lizard-like girl staying behind him by a safe distance, occasionally glancing behind them to make sure there were no ambushes, but curiosity enticed her to keep looking past the hide-covered form of her brother for any glimpses at what was going on ahead.

The situation definitely seemed far calmer than they had heard outside. With a voice of concern, Ah'Har asked when it seemed safe, "Hello? My sister and I were looking for a place to stay for the night but we heard shouting."

He took the moment to scan the faces of those present. Halflings. a full family of them it seemed, and a couple of elves. The female elf seemed almost a standard fare of elven beauty that was popular in Cerak, the male however was one of the few elves that Ah'Har had seen with wrinkles in his face, most seeming to just keep a youthful appearance until somebody killed them, from his experience.

All-in-all, however, the situation seemed comparatively calm, but despite that Ah'Har could not help but seem tense with the low ceiling forcing his posture into a semi-crouch and his hand resting near the handle of his weapon in expectation of trouble.
 
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She had just begun to enjoy the white chicken chili when the yelling started. With a raised brow she watched the exchanged between Dorinthellar and the halfling man. As the older elf just seemed to dig himself into a deep and deep hole she just shook her head in amusement. This was precisely why she never drank more than a glass or two of alcohol. She also knew better than to use the word 'little' with any of the....'little folk' as many of them did not take kindly to something that could be an insult to their stature.

When Dorinthellar gave his full name, her face went from amused to as neutral she she could keep it. That is why she recognized him....House Anda'Fallar. She had come into contact with the house a few times, but had never engaged much with them. It was highly likely her brother knew them better than her, she tried to stay away from the politics and machinations.

She gave the Gaffer a warm smile. "I am Mistalee," she introduced herself. "And your lovely wife has been the very definition of welcoming and hospitable, sharing the best chili I have had. Thank you for opening your doors to us."

With that another elf walked into the establishment. This really did seem to be the night for the elven folk to be gathering here tonight. Though there was something different about him from most elves she had met, she could already tell that. No to mention the sister that followed him in. A young lizard looking girl that should only describe as cute.
 
"Mama, mama, what's that?!" One of the children from the bar yelled as he pointed at the tiny lizard girl. The other two also seemed rather confused, but the elder brother of the two quickly lowered their voices with a hissing "Ssssshhhhh!" followed by the index finger covering his lips. The two innkeepers beckoned them in as the woman, Brana, welcomed Mistalee and thanked her for staying the night with them. Gabriel, or the Gaffer, walked towards the two who had just walked in and his hands were held in front of him, motioning downwards as if to get the larger of the newcomers to take his hand away from his blade, before dropping to his knee in front of the tiny being.

"Why hullo there miss! What's your name?" he asked gently as if she were frightened. "Are the two of ya hungry? Got a nice pot of white chicken chili hangin' upon the hearth, take a seat and my wife'll serve you some." His boisterous bass-filled tone suddenly changed to that of a calm, tranquil strand of wind, brushing the face of the lizard girl gently. "I'll be honest, I don't think I've the honor of meeting one of your kind before." Barna, the wife, set two bowls filled to the brim with her deliciousness, and two wooden spoons on a table near Mistalee, facing the other two elves.

"My, my, what an unusual night I must say! Hasn't been this busy since... Well since the orcs and elves fought long ago, if I'd be honest with ya!" Brana the innkeeper's wife exclaimed. "What brings the two of ya's to our doorstep this evening? Arrived here late, the sun already down, how far'd you been walking out there in the dark lad?" she asked the older elf who walked in.

Dorinthellar suddenly recognized Mistalee yet said nothing after feigning himself to foolishness. The girl, she was daughter of the late Head of House Tu'rin, a story about a group of mages they'd come across killing the father for reasons unknown permeating the elven courts like the stench of a trash bin does the air around it, for a week it was the only topic talked about. Some said he entered in a dark pact of black magick and suddenly withdrew, to their dismay, others saying he had a secret treasure they'd been trying to keep secret, which the mages wanted some of. Nothing was known for certain, houses taking care of their issues within house, only involving others if the situation proved dire for all in close relations. Dorinthellar tapped his chin in thought as he contemplated the girl's and the newcomer's presences, blatantly staring between the three figures who weren't of kinder kind. It wasn't filled with malice, it was more so curiosity, the top lids of his eyes drooping a bit with the fourth cup of wine and long day of travel. When Brana passed by again to grab her husband's and herself's bowls, Dorinthellar asked if he may serve himself. She nodded warmly and went back to join the two newcomers at their table, their worn appearances (especially the girl's) kicking in her motherly instincts.

"A strange creature to follow an elf," Dorinthellar said as he got up to scoop more chili into his bowl, in the direction of Ah'Har, "What lands do you hail from, brethren? I've not seen your face before," his body casting shadows in the room as the hearth was the only source of light, darkness flooding the area where the hosts and travelers sat.
 
Ah'Har's eyes fell neutrally on the children who wondered aloud to the mother at what his little sister was. Outgoing children always wondered their thoughts aloud tactlessly, an enviable innocence that he could not fault them for having. However, to the father kneeling closer, he let his eyes narrow at the little man. Adults taking interest in Cla'Tria back in Cerak usually spelled trouble of some kind or another, and the elf's body tensed beneath his hide and iron armor while he watched what might happen.

"I'm Cla'Tria, and I've never met another like me, either!" The little lizard girl beamed as she poked her head out further from behind the safety of the tall elf, any trouble of the situation being gone, though she had this distinct impression that the short man before her was simply a boisterous sort given the laughter they heard after the shouting. While her own fear could be gone in an instant, she understood that many could feel enraptured and reeling by any con's performance, but all she found now was hospitality and the smell of some probably delicious food, "Food would be great, I'm starving!"

Cla'Tria's ease into the situation eased Ah'Har's nerves to match. She was clever when it came to people, probably honed from trying to read whatever he would not tell her over the years. He finally moved his hand away from his blade-carrying side and softened the expression on his face to one of ease with the current situation while the wife addressed him.

"We've walked about a couple of hours, I'd guess. We parted ways at the fork down the road with a merchant who suggested this place." The tall elf explained to the halfling wife, perhaps muddying specific details just a little bit. It was only with the little woman's wonderment that he considered the locals in these friendlier lands might be a bit more worried of the dangers in the dark. Back home, figures scuttling in the cover of shadows were little different at night than in the day, something to be watched cautiously, but nothing new, "We hadn't quite expected the sun to leave us so quickly, but we're fortunate you weren't too far."

With his short explanation, the elven brother joined his reptilian sister at a table, the pleasure of sitting down, albeit in a somewhat short chair, definitely relaxing his posture as he no longer needed to duck to avoid banging his head on the ceiling. Cla'Tria, however, fit the chair rather well with her small frame, her shortness being readily apparent with average-sized furniture.

While the female elf might have watched things simply going by, from the older elf Ah'Har could practically feel the probing gaze upon him, shifting to Cla'Tria, and even considering the elven woman. In turn, it made Ah'Har reconsider the situation and the players present. There was little to gain from the woman, plenty to gauge from the small folk, but then from the older man he recognized a familiar air from a past aboard ships that went in to port back at Elbion. Such a realization only brought more questions silently to light, especially as the man cast a shadow on the scene while questioning Ah'Har and Cla'Tria's unusual natures.

Cla'Tria looked not at the drunken man whose curiosity came perhaps as blunt, but to her older brother, knowing how tense he would get given the comment and question.

Ah'Har considered little of his sister's gaze in the moment, a bit of muscle memory gripping the spoon for the chili loosely as if it were a weapon, eyes gazing upwards towards the source of the shadow with a sharp gaze. He found no comfort in curt questioning.

"Stranger things yet in the Black Bay, m'lord." Ah'Har said, his tone balanced, "We've come to these lands for some normalcy."
 
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She was silent grateful that, for now, at least Dorinthellar did not address her choice to not give her last name. It was highly unlikely that at this point he had not figured out who she really was. After all, if she recognized him she was certain the older elf had also recognized her and remembered her family's history. It was not exactly a secret. Though that is exactly why she spent so much time away from the homeland, to be unknown.

As she took another bit of her meal she watched the unusual brother and sister with gentle eyes. "Cla'Tria? Is is a pleasure to meet and young lady such as yourself," she said with a smile. "Though your dashing brother has yet to share his name. What should we call you?"

Even though the strange elf had seemed to ease a bit, there was still some tension in the air. It was a common thing when strangers met. And a strange lot they were indeed. A noble proudly announcing hit title, one who wished that information remain unknown, a cheerful lizard girl, and a quiet stern elf. Three of them might share elven blood, but that would likely prove to unite them very little.

"I do hope that you are able to find your normalcy here in these lands. Though I would imagine it might be easier if folk would not deem a pair like yourselves so strange," she said this last bit with giving the elf elf a sidelong look.

Shaking her head she was not yet sure what to make of him. True she knew his family name and some of the common knowledge that all the houses knew, but nothing personal about the man. For some reason it annoyed her that he claimed to not know Ah'har's face and thus seemed to conclude he was for a different land. Did he assume he knew every elf that lived in Fal'Addas? Many elves made their homes outside of the elven capital after all.
 
"I'll be expecting you'll want a room then? Lucky too, last for the night, up in the attic! We normally allow people to camp outside the door after dark but travelers have been few until tonight! Quite the surprise to be honest with ya, whats a pair of yer type walking the roads this late at night for?" asked Brana in Ah'Har's direction as she moved to fix her and her husband bowls, before drawing a chair and sitting at a table near the wall, between Mistalee and Dorinthellar.

Dorinthellar frowned at the mention at the Black Bay, concerned gaze never leaving the odd pair as he sat back down.

"I assume the Black Bay is where the little one came from," giving her a soft wave before taking in a spoonful of the chili, chewing and swallowing before saying, "I assume quite the dangers have experienced? Are you escaped slaves, perhaps?" His brow had been arched the whole time before finally looking to the girl. "And you, escaped an elder's grasp for the stroll? Don't worry about my tongue, I am merely asking for conversation." He scooped in another mouthful.

The Gaffer moved to refill Dorinthellar's wine, and when he hit the half way mark Dorinthellar grabbed the glass and pulled it out of the way of the stream, a bit of wine spilling onto the table. He looked up into the reddening face and his green eyes softened, smiling sheepishly. Moving back to the bar, he grabbed a a rag and threw it at the elf.

"Apologies sir, I should've asked for water." The Gaffer shrugged. As he did so, his wife Brana gave Dorinthellar a queer look as she ate her food. After time passed and her husband sat back down the kinder slowed her eating before saying,

"You're the boy who came here with your family, you had another, who was injured, and that bear pelt!"

Dorinthellar frowned suddenly as he had forgotten this extraneous detail himself.

"... Yes... I forgot that we stopped here."

Brana stood up and pushed the back of her chair into the wall itself, almost pushing the table forward a bit with her thick stature.

"My father still ran the place at the time, what was your sister's name again? I couldn't remember that face, such a pretty girl, and kind too, helped that poor elf you found! Oh I hope she's doing well, a fine lord she's found to marry I assume?"

Dorinthellar's frowned deepened as he stared down into his soup, shaking his head.

"She's gone, I'm afraid,and my father, and the man who we helped as well."

The two kinder looked down into their soups before Brana looked back up.

"I'm sorry lad."

Dorinthellar shrugged his shoulders, before looking up again with a cheery smile on his face.

"It's quite the synchronicity actually, I've come back to these lands for these reminiscences, quite the synchronicity indeed!"

"Well the funny thing is, you did this same exact thing when we served you and your father, you've grown into the man's image well lad! I can't believe its been so long, time really has a way of passing by before your eyes..."

"That it does, little master, that it does."
 
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The words and the tone that this elder took put him on-guard and kept him from eating, even if the man was a few drinks in. Nobility, from what Ah'Har had seen from such buyers, had a way of simply expecting things with absolutism, and the older they got the more naturalized to that they seemed to be. Elves were no exception, they simply had more time to get comfortable.

"Our freedom. Is bought. And paid for." Ah'Har said slowly and methodically, making sure that not only were his words very clear, but as was their true meaning. By all matters of Cerak he was free and Cla'Tria was as free as any cared to question him, but far more than that the dark-skinned elf had more than paid in plenty of other ways. If he needed to make another payment to ensure their freedom from somebody who thought they might curry favor or discount from the appropriate parties, he was always ready.

The only thing that stopped him from making anything more clear was the memory of the hand he dealt earlier in the wagon. Admiral of Locks, indeed.

Cla'Tria turned her attention from her brother to the woman who seemed far more at ease, but then again her older brother was usually touchy when it came to people saying careless things. Drunkards were sometimes the worst offenders, but the little lizard girl suspected there was no threat of slave hunting here. Better to be distracted by something pleasant, and if she could get Ah'Har distracted as well, then all the better!

It was clear that her older brother was focused on the older elf, probably just vaguely aware of the presence of the woman. Cla'Tria reached across the table and tapped her spoon on the side of his bowl a few time to get his attention. Ah'Har's sharpened gaze shot down at the spoon, then to the girl wielding it, then followed the suggestion of her gaze to the female elf.

Yes, the situation had grown tense. He was uncomfortable with traveling so far inland, especially when one of the first things he could come across was an old elven lord who was well onto his way to blacking out. Now, what was it that this woman had said? Something about his name, a compliment and some kinder words? He took a deep breath and searched a short bit for what she said, softening his expression and readjusting himself in his seat and the spoon in his grip to being that of an actual eating utensil.

The Captain of Cups, perhaps? She definitely seemed like she might match, whereas the halfling mother might be more in-line with the Coin, of course to her benefit. This definitely seemed the right place, the cards unfolding, and perhaps the remaining two to present themselves in short order.

"My name is Ah'Har." He said with a calmer tone, turning to properly face the elven woman "Strangeness might simply be our lot in life unless we hear of others like us, and perhaps while I adjust to life away from Cerak. It's good to see Cla'Tria taking it in stride, though."

Ah'Har glanced back at his little lizard sister who had resumed happily eating her chili, a bright smile on her reptilian face while she looked between people, turning to listen to what she could. It seemed that the halflings were conversing with the older elf. Seemed people had gone missing in his life, but assuming any work from overhearing such a thing might be grasping a bit at meaning in playing cards.

Ah'Har shrugged away from the conversation he was not a part of and back to the woman was definitely more pleasing to the eyes and calming to the nerves, "I do not believe I had the pleasure of catching your name. Nor the. . . honor of the lord's over there."
 
In her opinion it seemed like Dorinthellar was far too focused on Ah'har and Cla'tria and the 'oddness' about them. To her it did not matter where they were from or the fact that they were two completely different races. What mattered what that they clearly viewed each other as brother and sister. Made her think of her own brother a little bit.

When the Gaffer said something about asking for water, she had to bite her tongue. She had more than a small passing issue against drink to drunkenness. Excessive alcohol consumption did nothing but bring out the worst in people and cloud judgement. To her it was clear the Dorinthellar should have relegated himself to water several goblets ago. Perhaps had he done that he still could have kept a bit more of her respect, which was waning more and more as the night went on.

Now he seemed to be focused on a discussion with the halfings and how he had once visited this same place at a younger age. She hoped that they would keep it attention and that she could actually enjoy a conversation with the wandering siblings who seemed to be far pleasant company.

"I am sorry," she apologized when he asked her name. "I thought you were here when I shared my name earlier. I am Mistalee, I will let our honorable lord there speak his name if he so wishes."

Emerald eyes rested comfortably on Cla'tria "She seems like the sort of child that could take most things in stride. I am sure much of that is because she has someone like you to be her guardian and brother. I know it might not seem like much to you, but speaking as a younger sister, having a protective older brother means the world to us. If it were not for my brother, I am not sure how I would have gotten through certain situations."
 
Dorinthellar smirked at the elven girl who seemed as if she were ignoring him, giving no answer to his question earlier, yet spoke of him as if he were not behind her. Shrugging his shoulders as she mentioned his unwillingness to give a name, he looked down at the cup in his hand and made short, curt noises of 'tsk tsk tsk' as he figured the company found him to be the odd one out. Raising his head towards Ah'Har, he said

"I am Dorinthellar, Head of House Anda'Fallar. I'm not asking these questions to try and sell you back into the Black Bay's economy, it is my duty as a protector of this realm that I assess any and all who stride into the Falwoods... Many a dangers... *Hiccup* Lurk in the shadows around these parts..." He stood about to go for a third bowl when his legs told him otherwise, and he sat back down in a haphazard fashion. The little hobbit children now finished with their meal were ushered by their older brother downstairs, filtering through the room past all the guests, to the door behind Dorinthellar which led below. The old elf watched them a moment before his eyes flicked back towards Ah'Har. "What kind of creature is your sibling, I wonder? Never have I seen a kind as hers before, at least not so young. Is she Naga? Far cuter in youth, I'll say." He looked about the room as the children left, seemingly quieter, curt, tense. The two innkeepers were now scurrying about picking things up, bringing the cauldron of stew from the hearth into the kitchen, asking if anyone else wanted more before it was packed away. Dorinthellar shrugged off the offer, looking about the room as he entered the two more youthful elf's conversation in full.
 
Cla'Tria, in many ways even beyond her first home among scum and villainy, was far more mature and optimistic than the dark-skinned elf had ever known. He was grateful for whatever mercies led to her being such an understanding and calm child, happy to hum a tune, quick to point out silver linings, and patient with most things.

"I thought Naga didn't have legs, though?" The little lizard girl questioned softly, kicking her legs at the air a little beneath the table, examining them through the cloth of her clothing. Of many things she could be, she was almost certain that she was not a warrior snake-person.

Perhaps Cla'Tria could take things in stride because Ah'Har could not.

"In Cerak, words are often more dangerous than honed blades. The wrong thing said to or around the wrong person at the wrong time leads to pain and suffering." Ah'Har spoke clearly before turning to face the elder elf, no humor to be found on his face, just a cold demeanor that matched words smooth as ice. Drunkards were without self-control, they spoke their minds and acted on impulses and emotions, hardly the sort who could be considered rational. Yet still their behavior could take their tolls on others, especially those of perhaps more naturally sour dispositions, "Lord Dorinthellar, Head of House Anda'Fallar, even though I can tell you may be troubled, I have to ask: Do you enjoy pain and suffering?"

Cla'Tria lifted her head when she heard her brother begin speaking with that tone, that haunting calm that she could be thankful might never be directed towards her, but all the same spelled a trouble that she could not quell nor distract from. Wisely she scooted away from him in her chair, putting down the spoon in the chili as she watched with a dreaded anticipation, "Oh no."

Ah'Har stood from the table to as full of his height as the low ceiling of the halflings would allow him before hunching like a predatory beast, his green and gold gaze piercing towards a man any bit of logic would tell him to abate himself for, but there was only so much questioning of Cla'Tria's existence that he could stand, "To get so readily drunk, to say such careless things, to be alone without any supporters. I've seen such behavior before, in those who look for pain and suffering, and they found it. So tell me, please, m'lord: Do you also for pain and suffering?"
 
Her patience was coming to the end of it's rope. The 'honorable' lord was doing nothing but making even more of a fool of himself and was quickly loosing any semblance of respect she might hold for him. On top of all that, it was obvious that Ah'Har was done with his foolishness to the point that threats were starting to be made. Not wanting a fight to break out between the two men she stood and place herself in front of Ah'Har.

"Let us not upset our good hosts with a fight," she said in a calm and collected voice. "It is a hopeless quest to try and teach a drunkard a lesson."

She then turned to look at her elder, with her annoyance clear on her fair face. "And if that question you asked earlier was addressed to me, I did not 'escape an elder's grasp' as you say. I am a woman grown and I do not need permission to take a 'stroll.' On top of that if you are asking these questions to make conversation, you are doing a poor job at it. Perhaps you should sober up before you fling more insults and make an even bigger fool of yourself."

The situation was far from diffused, but she hoped that a fight at least could be prevented. Their hosts had been good to them so far, and she would hate to insult them be fighting here like it was a seedy tavern in the slums. She just hoped that Ah'har would let go of some of his anger and back down, allowing them to try and enjoy the rest of the evening. Though the enjoyment of said evening would also depend on their drunken 'friend' here.
 
At the little lizard girl's retorted question, Dorinthellar nodded in agreement.

"Right you are, little one! Smart too, my what a curious creature..."

Dorinthellar looked between the two elves with a queer expression, his focus resting upon Ah'Har.

"Yes, but we aren't in Cerak, are we? We are in the Falwoods, I say a few hundred leagues away from your place where 'words are often more dangerous than honed blades.' If you can't take the questions I give you in certain... Stride, *hiccup* then I daresay Cerak may not have been as toughening as you make it out to be." He stood himself, although a little staggeringly, the glare in his eyes immediately opened that he might not have been as drunk as he seemingly made it appear. Heeding the words of the woman he then made gestures towards her. "Ah'ha! This one makes sense, a sense born of someone bred in these parts, something I can tell you were most definitely not." He pointed towards the door behind Ah'Har, also crouching a bit beneath the ceiling. "If you would like conflict, let us not stain the home of our benefactors with blood," shrugging as he looked around at the rest of the scene, the two hobbits now near the doorway leading below, clutching at each other in horror, "but I'm the fool! No no, words may only be interpreted, therefore I daresay I did not mean any insult towards anyone, you merely took the syllables as such..." He then flitted around Ah'Har towards the door leading outside as he sang the words, 'Pain and suffering, oh my!'
 
Ah'Har began to draw the blood-red blade from its scabbard, a blade that always seemed coated with fresh blood given its sheen, and one that had been the educational tool to many a strong-headed buyer before. Why did nobles always feel so entitled when they often sullied their hands without a second thought? Did they believe their gloves would keep them clean?

Play with fire, get burned, then burn down your home. So many noble-children fell into that same mistake, especially with their parents' servants handing the world to them on a jewel-encrusted golden platter. Oh, how harsh reality was away from their safe little bubble.

"No, because in Cerak we learned respect, and all you've clearly learned is an inflated ego." The tallest of the present elves clarified. He could not help but wonder how somebody so clearly old and with so many wrinkles could still act like a bratty child who had never received a proper punishment. Nobles really must have been a different breed.

In Cerak, threats were empty and tested, absolutely pointless, and even drunkards would often be felled by their own inebriated stupidity.

Yet it was nothing that Ah'Har had not heard before from plenty a noble just like this one, those who bought their slaves from Cerak so they could feel superior without ever having to earn trust or respect, loyalty to them was nothing that coin could not solve. At the docks he had no hesitation to kill their guards to make a point, or to scar their faces with reminder, and in the cases of elves like these even cut their ears short so that they would not forget their own mistakes. The seedy underbelly of the world was fraught with fatal dangers.

Yet, far more important that the complications of trying or succeeding to kill a lord for his bad behavior barely a week into these new lands, what Ah'Har felt any sympathy for was far more the hosts and their place. Perhaps back in that dark homeland the floors were often stained orange with blood, but here there were truly happy folks who actually worked to earn a living and keep their homes clean of such things. Perhaps here, Cla'Tria could have a proper childhood, what little of it might remain, but just as easily as they left Cerak, so too could that chance be lost if he treated the fools of these lands like he was still home.

At least, with witnesses.

The red-blade slid back quietly into its scabbard before it could be drawn. The dark-skinned elf took a moment to breath deep before he did something he would make Cla'Tria regret.

"By the standards of Cerak, my patience is long, but it's still too short to suffer the sour words of drunken fools peacefully." Ah'Har said with a slight sneer before calming his expression and turning to the halflings who had to suffer the presence of dangerous tall ones, "I've the coin to pay for a room for the night, and if you don't mind, I'd prefer we take our food there? Cla'Tria and I can be gone by sunrise."
 
Dorinthellar stopped at the door.

"Inflated ego?!" Dorinthellar laughed at the notion. "I agree maybe the courts have dulled my sensibilities towards the common folk, yes, but to call an ego inflated over curiosity is... " Dorinthellar began to speak sarcastically, "Wise, but there is more to you than meets the eye, I would like to believe." He turned and leaned against the oaken circle so as to stoop beneath the ceiling. "Really friend, there was no harm to my words besides what you placed upon them, if an apology for offenses is what is needed, I'll give them. I have an inquisitive mind especially to one of our own who protects the life of a... Well I honestly can't say I've met one of your friend's breed before..."

The two halflings nodded to the larger elf who spoke, and when he talked of coin, Dorinthellar said

"All rooms will be paid for by myself, such a rude introduction I've created that I feel it only necessary." The Gaffer shrugged his shoulders.

"As long as I get my coin, and no noise is made to wake my children, all will be well. All will be well, right?"

"Dorinthellar pursed his lips.

"I wouldn't mind a challenger still, although this is my youthful freedom speaking, as I've not been out of the company of guardsmen in quite some time! I always welcome one who challenges mettle." He beckoned towards the door, as if to taunt the larger elf now. "I simply asked questions, dark one, but I guess we all see things through our own looking glasses. If you want a good fight, I'll promise to leave my sword at the door, we'll keep it friendly! I like to see what young blood have to offer, always an interesting occasion to bet upon." He looked at the woman who sat near the lizard girl. "And you could be the referee, although I might argue then that the odds are stacked in our friend Ah'har's favor here!" He hiccuped again, as if to draw forth any suspicions of drunkenness to the forefront. "If I'm intruding too much, then please, go about your business. The offer on your rooms isn't for debate, however!" With that he turned the knob and stepped outside into the cool, brisk nighttime air.

Brana wrung her hands as she gritted her teeth, the Gaffer peering between them.

"Maybe we should've served the Lord our bottom shelf brew," said the stout halfling.
 
Every time Dorinthellar refereed to the young lizard girl as 'creature' or some such term she could just feel her blood pressure rising. She could only imagine how Ah'har felt about this man's insults. Though what really annoyed her was when he seemed to suggest that she had more sense than the elven traveler due to her being born in this region, and that he was unused to dealing with the 'common folk.'

"If you were not meaning to insult anyone, you are doing a rather poor job at it," she said in a low voice, yet still managing to to keep it calm and collected. "You keep referring to our young lass here as 'creature' and 'breed.' What does it matter what her race might be? What matters is her character. Then you insinuate that just because this man if from a nation not your own that he lacks sense. It is you who have lost your senses with your drink."

Her eyes met his, anger clear in her deep green eyes even if her voice did not reflect it. "Yes you do have an inflated ego my, good lord" she said sarcastically with a wry smile. "You have been nothing but insulting and a nuisance this entire evening. What makes you think you are the one to judge all who enter Falwood? This is an inn, where travelers come to rest their heads for an evening or two. Heaven forbid you actually meet...." gasps dramatically "A traveler here! Might I remind you that you are as much a guest in this establishment as the rest of us here, perhaps you should act like it instead of trying to act like you are better than everyone around you."

Golden locks fluttered around her face and shoulders as she shook her head at his offer to pay for her room. "I refuse to accept your oh so generous offer to help sooth your ego. I can pay for my own way and I don't need or want your aid. You can go outside to clear your head, but I will not follow nor will I be apart of any so called duel you desire."

As he walked out the door she merely shook her head. Looking to the halfing couple she bowed her head. "I am sorry that we have disturbed your peace so much. I promise that I will be gone in the morning. I hope that we have not been too much trouble."

At least Ah'har seemed to have the good sense to refuse to accept the drunk lord's challenge. Now if only the other man could share in that sense. Hopefully that would be the case after the cool night air helped sober him up. With a sigh she sat back down and rested her head in the palm of her hand. "And here I thought that that the 'wisdom' of our elders was supposed to be something to be heeded. I see no wisdom for this one so deep in his tankard."
 
Cla'Tria gave her big brother a somewhat uneasy but also relieved smile when he turned away from he older elf, complete with two thumbs up for him not giving in to offense or challenge but instead choosing to keep what peace remained in the establishment. She heard what the old elf said, she understood the callous and continued disregard from the drunk about her nature, but it meant little to her coming from a man with no aggressive intent nor any permanence in her life. She also understood that Ah'Har had spent many more years in Cerak than she had and without any sort of protector, any offense could be final or long-lasting if not nipped in the bud, but here on the mainland things could be different.

Ah'Har waved dismissively at the lord, still frustrated with the inebriated blue blood but currently neither ready to argue the offer from one so wealthy nor change his attitude to shameless thanks. The tall elf had already made his choice to drop his facade, so collecting the shattered remains of that would be pointless and absolutely unbelievable to perhaps even the most gullible of fools.

One thing that definitely struck Ah'Har as quite interesting was the treatment of the lord from a more localized elf, who had no problem voicing her problems with the drunken lord. Given how many behaved, he would have assumed that lordship actually came with some subtly fearful respect from the common folk. Some low-born criminal from Cerak might be excused the bad behavior due to far muddier upbringings, but this woman found nothing but equal footing with the man beneath the low ceiling of the halfling establishment.

She, far more prideful, rejected Dorinthellar's offer of paid boarding. Neither of the elves accepted the offer, perhaps for completely different reasons, but all the same it was not a game they would enter tonight.

"Alcohol buries wisdom alive until sobriety digs it back up, and a stubborn fool grows ever moreso when drunk." Ah'Har sighed, echoing words from somebody older and more experienced than himself, "Perhaps his attitude will improve with a hangover, but right now he's little more than a drunkard with money and power. Honestly, I'm a little surprised he hasn't threatened by his title or resources despite his state."

Sometimes it did not even take a drink for a noble to be so reckless and deluded, but perhaps such threats had less to do with comfort or threat and more with the individual's personality. While a person's inhibitions and filters might be destroyed by the drink, Ah'Har could only lie to say this meeting with a proper lord in his own lands went well, and the night would not be over until the man was unconscious.

"Cla'Tria, go with the nice people to our room. I want to make sure nothing more happens tonight." The elf said softly to his little sister.

The little lizard girl did not argue or question, but merely nodded before taking her bowl and doing as told. She hoped that nothing bad would happen, nor that anything particularly good would happen without her, but she held hope that the worst part of the night might be over.
 
Dorinthellar stepped out into the night time as stars blanketed the sky, dotting the black with twinkles of light which permeated across the view. He gazed up at the smaller of the two moons, rustic red, whose name he forgot beneath the encumbrance of wine. He smirked to himself as he thought on the elven woman's words to him, which aroused in his old bones a vibrating chuckle which emanated throughout his body, his whitening blond hair falling to his back as he looked up into the void of space.

'No respect for the elders these days, the young bloods have none. If she'd seen the amount of lives lost in our time... Well, that isn't to say she's completely bloodless.' He thought to himself as the intoxicated elf stepped forward into the night time air. He stumbled a bit, continuing forward, and as his dizzied eyes were locked up above he kept no attention towards the surface below his feet, and when the roots of an old oaken tree placed themselves in his path he tripped forward into the dirt, rolling over onto his back as he stared up into the open air, heart torn as his eyes searched the astral realm for signs of his kin watching him from above.

"Aaaah, its been too long since I've gotten this drunk," Dorinthellar said aloud, dragging himself to the base of that which he tripped upon. His eyes still cast towards the stars, he began to hum a soft tune he'd not heard in a long time, his heartbeat reverberating in his chest now as he thought of his past in drunken recollection. Self pity and sorrow became the tune he'd been humming, his pent up emotions let free in sight of nothing but the whispers of the wind, which played softly throughout the background. He leaned his head on the base of the oaken tree which sat on the opposite side of the road to the inn's door, humming the tune of reminiscence.
 
The red mist began to roll in as he hummed to himself, Dorinthellar at first taking no notice of toxic fumes which began to permeate across the land about him, yet when he felt the grass beneath him shriveling he opened his eyes to find that many of the flora about the inn began to whither and decay in rapid fashion, his green eyes glancing about for the cause of such doings with no account as to what was happening. Confusion began to wrack his brain, he heard the neighing of his pure white steed as it ran towards him from further down the road, huffing and snorting in malcontent at the turn of events. He peered through the darkness as the crimson tide thickened, sobering up in quick fashion as he contemplated what was happening.
 
She was grateful when Dorinthellar left the building. Perhaps with a bit of time the drink would leave his system and his sense would return. Though even if he did apologize for her drunken behavior later, this poor first impression would always be engraved into their minds.

"Have a good night Cla'Tria," she bid the young girl as she scampered off to her room.

While a part of her wished to retire herself, she did not want to leave Ah'Har here alone. She did not believe that their drunken 'friend' would cause anymore trouble tonight, but she just wanted to wait a bit longer to make sure no more drama occurred. Should the elder elf return still looking for a fight she would do what she could to avoid bloodshed in the halfling's warm and welcoming establishment.

She nodded to Ah'Har. "In my experience excessive drink does nothing but addle the mind and dull the senses," she replied. "I learned a long while ago that drink brings far more trouble than it is worth. Besides I like to keep my senses sharp so I can be ready for anything. Would you want a drunk archer behind you in battle?"

A soft laugh left her lips with her last comment, before she smile faded as she looked sad, almost ashamed. "I am sorry that the old man was not more welcoming to you and your sister to Falwood. I promise most of the local elves here are not like him. He let his pride and drink could judgement. I hope that you find the rest of your journey far more pleasant. Do you have any plans on where you are going to go to next?"
 
The night seemed to wind down to a somewhat peaceful conclusion. Lord Dorinthellar walked out into the night air on word of challenge by himself, nobody present willing to take up the issue of a drunk, leaving only the far more sober within the building. Still, Ah'Har could feel that weight on the back of his mind warning him to be wary, to always be wary around everything, especially anything unknown. Smiles could hide daggers, after all, but considering the situation and the events he certainly hoped that was not the case tonight.

"I've found drink can help ease the pain when it grows too much to bear, and when you've no better options, that can seem really enticing." Ah'Har spoke somber words with a neutral tone as he sat himself back down in his seat, far preferable to keeping hunched over to accommodate the small-folks structure. It was not so much that he could find blame in the elven lord for his inebriation, but rather that the tall elf had grown accustomed to nipping even drunken problems in the bud before they could bloom to cause any real harm. Perhaps here a drunkard really was a drunkard, but he could hardly drop his guard for that.

Mistalee truly was strong-willed, but kind, and somebody who definitely seemed to need no drink to speak her mind. She reminded him of some more adventurous sorts he met in port-side taverns, and as such he wondered if she had some interesting stories, but for now he was a little stressed to properly enjoy any tales.

He still had no true plan going forward, and he barely had one for getting this far. He procured his deck of his anchor-backed cards of a silvery sheen set on a black background, framed by flexible steel edges that bent just enough to allow him the comfort of shuffling the cards on his table while he considered what he might even hope to find if he drew. Unfortunately, as far as Ah'Har knew, the cards could only guide him to options and opportunities, not actual answers, though maybe there was one just at the other table?

"To be perfectly honest I've never actually made it this far inland before, and much of the world is still a mystery to me." Ah'Har admitted with a shrug as he looked to the elven woman, stopping his shuffling for just a moment as he shot a halfway hopeful smirk her way, "I don't suppose you'd like for a reasonably-priced bodyguard accompanied by his little lizard sister, would you? For those times you don't wish to use your bow?"

Cla'Tria, meanwhile, had more or less settled in upstairs, a still mostly-full bowl of chili in her hands that she refused to go to bed without finishing. After all, it was quite delicious, and though whatever Ah'Har and Mistalee might say on the floor down-below might be muffled, there was still a perfectly good window for her to gaze through while she enjoyed a delicious meal.

Outside it had definitely grown even darker past the setting of the sun, with shadows layered upon one another for silhouettes of the outside world, though the lord could just be made out from her viewing point. He seemed somewhat comfortable splayed out by the trees, which she considered to be a good thing. He seemed to her very uncomfortable in there once he started saying the wrong things around people, but out there he could relax.

While she sipped at her chili, the taste started seeming a bit off. Perhaps it was just a meal that tasted better when eaten warm, and had been given too much time to cool off from the pot given everything that happened, but far be it from her to reject food just because it did not taste as well as it once did. Then she heard the growing sound of an upset horse, a beautiful white horse that seemed unhurt yet still in a panic as it ran down the road.

A sinking feeling grew in Cla'Tria's heart, an unnerving feeling that she knew told her to hide, and hide she did behind the shutters of her window, peeking out from behind a well-obscured position as she carefully and quietly sipped at her food, wondering what might happen next. All she could figure was that it would not be good.
 
Dorinthellar was dumbstruck as the red mist rolled inwards, and the whinnying of his horse sobered himself up a bit as he bounded back towards the door of the inn buried in the hillside, fluttering past the two elves in the main room towards the door leading downstairs where his room was located, arming himself with his long sword, strapping his bow and quiver of arrows to his back, before bounding back up the stairs of the hobbit dwelling motioning for the two elves to arm themselves as well. He stooped over by the table he originally sat at, thrusting his feet into his dirty leather boots. By now the open door allowed some of the red mist to trickle into the burrow, teetering in the wind as the rusty hinges screeched in eerie fashion.

"We've a problem outside, besides my own presence earlier," he said snidely, "If the two of you could please follow me, I'd hate for our little masters to get hurt!" He made his way over to the bar and snagged himself a cup or two of water, downing the liquid in single gulps before hastily grabbing a stool and moving it towards the entrance. Looking back at the taller of two elves who at the moment was making his move on the smaller female, Dorinthellar rolled his eyes and moved back towards the entrance to the rooming area, yelling down below, "We've got unfriendly company! Gaffer! Brana! Keep the children downstairs, come up at once and bar the door on our departure!" The Gaffer began to yell about making a mess with guests when Brana silenced him quickly, the woman realizing it was not of the issues brought up earlier which Dorinthellar spoke of. The two halflings now in nightgowns came bickering up the steps, yet as the red mist reached the top of the doorway their bickering turned to panic as they witnessed this source of unknown magic. Moving towards the fire, the older elf began to stomp out the coals and embers in hopes that whatever it was outside wouldn't notice the little hillside outcrop of life, the hairs on the back of his neck raising in anticipation in what he thought was necromantic magic, only seeing whole countrysides withering mid bloom in midst of such circumstances. After enough of the flame died out, he made his way outside, sword in hand as he readied himself for attack. "Seems as if there is a challenger this night! A shame, I would've liked it to be on friendlier terms!" He yelled out at the mist, waiting for whoever, or whatever it was.
 
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Without the arguments that were happening earlier, she felt much more at ease. Though she nodded somberly when Ah'har mentioned how many drink only to ease pains. She had seen it many times before, and never once had she actually seen any good come from it.

"Drink is a poor balm for pain," she said sadly. "I can understand the enjoyment of a fine wine or ale, but moderation is always best in my opinion."

A cheerful laugh left her lips as he offered to be a body guard for her. Little did he know that she very purposefully avoided her personal body guards. She never was one who wanted to be protected just because she paid coin to a person. Though she was perfectly fine accepting coin to do such work herself.

"A tempting offer," she said with a grin. "There would be many women who would enjoy having such a hansom bodyguard such as yourself by her side. Though there is something I would prefer more. A friend. I would be more than happy to travel with you and Cla'Tria for a time, at least until you grow accustom to these lands. Besides it is always nice to have a traveling companion to make the road a bit more enjoyable."

Right as things were starting to be more pleasant....Dorinthellar came rushing back in and disappeared into the lower room, only to return with weapons in hand. Something was seriously wrong. Even in a drunken state, she did not believe he would attack them now. As the older elf issued his warning she rose and grabbed her bow and quiver and saw the red mist approaching. She notched an arrow as she moved towards the door.

"And here I thought the night was finally going to be quiet," she sighed as she joined the other elf outside. "Let see if the famed Head of House Anda'Fallar lives up to the tales I have heard."

She raised the bow that had once been her father's, blades ran along the limbs glinting in the moon light show that this single weapon served her both ranged and melee combat. The limbs of the bow creaked softly as she pulled back on the string, hand stopping next to her chin, string barely brushing against her nose, elbow in line with the arrow, and her feet planted firmly. A perfect archer's pose. The first enemy to reveal itself would find an arrow between it's eyes.
 
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