â€œIâ€™m back from the Pass. Do you still have a message youâ€™d like me to deliver?â€ Llewelyn eyed the regal elf as she walked into the sitting room.
The female elf, Alyssa, turned from her reverie out the sitting room window. Through it, she could almost see another land and another time. She also caught glimpses of another personâ€¦a dark skinned young man sitting at a deskâ€¦wearing odd clothes and staring into a foreign scrying device. Alyssa was expecting Llewelyn, but the vision had caught her unawares. If the visiting elf had been looking at Alyssaâ€™s eyes at that moment, she would have seen them revert momentarily to their proper reptilian structure.
â€œI need a set of fine clothes. Is this really the best you can do?â€ The wood elf Dorian affected an air of disdain. â€œI suppose you canâ€™t expect much better in an out of the way little town like this. These will do fine, good tailor. Iâ€™ll wear them out if youâ€™d be so kind as to bundle up the rags I wore in.â€ He looked at the halfling who had followed him into the shop. â€œGarth, I think Iâ€™ll head to the seamstress next. Why donâ€™t you see about buying Horse #2 from the town while Iâ€™m engaged in that trifling matter?â€
Dorian looked back at the tailor to see if he had offended the man. The elven soldier was trying to walk a fine line between arrogant and acceptable.
Garth Goldentongue was glad to finally split up with Dorian. Now Garth might see to his own business instead of playing underling to the elf. Humans didnâ€™t normally take halflings seriously anyway, and pandering to Dorian only set him lower in the humansâ€™ sights. For a couple hours, at least, he was free to ply his normal trade: Garth Goldentongue, halfling peddler. There was money to be made in the town of Hobbly; he knew there was.
Now, what were the odds he could convince the townsfolk to accept only one of his gems in trade for #2 so he could pocket the rest for profit?