"Avariel? Aye there do be a few tha' come down 'ere now. I didn't believe me eyes when they first appeared."
Gawyn fingered the hilt of his blade impatiently whilst trying to keep his face impassive. He always forgot how much humans liked to listen to their own voices, especially when they believed they had a spectacular tale to tell someone of note. He supposed that was how he looked to them anyway with his finely cut royal blue frockcoat and white breeches tucked into expensive leather boots. The embroidery alone had had the sailor bowing far lower than was strictly necessary but a part of him enjoyed a human knowing their place. The man caught the impatient finger movement and hurried on.
"There do be some who trade now, Sir. I expect, bein' their cousins an' all, you'll be wantin' to trade with them in the Falwood?" the lilt of curiosity at the end of his sentence died at one look from the General. Falwood elves, as far as he was aware, were not overly keen on humans knowing their affairs. Something about Dreadlords or mages getting the better of them. It was a ludicrous idea. He almost went to stretch his wings and ground his teeth when he remembered where they were, safely tattooed against his skin.
"You've been most helpful," he drawled and flipped a coin in his general direction before sauntering off into the crowds.
Thyasari reopening was old news in Alliria where new things happened all the time. Even mythical creatures with wings returning to the world didn't seem to phase the metropolitan city which was a true melting pot of every culture he had ever read about. It made finding information hard and it was even harder to sift fact from fiction. Then on top of that he still didn't know what kind of information he was looking for. Something... anything to help him decide if he should let Aohdin lower their own shields and return to the world and whether they declared independence in the process.
His feet took him back towards one of the numerous warren-like squares the city seemed to be made up of. It looked to him as though it had been designed by a drunk but the Allirians seemed to get on with it. Like ants they adapted to anything. The tavern he was staying at was on the corner of this particular square though and after a useless day of hearing Avariel had been seen but had he heard about X, he was looking forward to drowning his misery in a cup of ambrosia.
At least that was one positive to Thyasari reopening.
Gawyn fingered the hilt of his blade impatiently whilst trying to keep his face impassive. He always forgot how much humans liked to listen to their own voices, especially when they believed they had a spectacular tale to tell someone of note. He supposed that was how he looked to them anyway with his finely cut royal blue frockcoat and white breeches tucked into expensive leather boots. The embroidery alone had had the sailor bowing far lower than was strictly necessary but a part of him enjoyed a human knowing their place. The man caught the impatient finger movement and hurried on.
"There do be some who trade now, Sir. I expect, bein' their cousins an' all, you'll be wantin' to trade with them in the Falwood?" the lilt of curiosity at the end of his sentence died at one look from the General. Falwood elves, as far as he was aware, were not overly keen on humans knowing their affairs. Something about Dreadlords or mages getting the better of them. It was a ludicrous idea. He almost went to stretch his wings and ground his teeth when he remembered where they were, safely tattooed against his skin.
"You've been most helpful," he drawled and flipped a coin in his general direction before sauntering off into the crowds.
Thyasari reopening was old news in Alliria where new things happened all the time. Even mythical creatures with wings returning to the world didn't seem to phase the metropolitan city which was a true melting pot of every culture he had ever read about. It made finding information hard and it was even harder to sift fact from fiction. Then on top of that he still didn't know what kind of information he was looking for. Something... anything to help him decide if he should let Aohdin lower their own shields and return to the world and whether they declared independence in the process.
His feet took him back towards one of the numerous warren-like squares the city seemed to be made up of. It looked to him as though it had been designed by a drunk but the Allirians seemed to get on with it. Like ants they adapted to anything. The tavern he was staying at was on the corner of this particular square though and after a useless day of hearing Avariel had been seen but had he heard about X, he was looking forward to drowning his misery in a cup of ambrosia.
At least that was one positive to Thyasari reopening.