“My kin say I walk like a moose of the wood.”
Von’nes had stepped out of the stinking tavern, leaving the red-haired human to her conversation. Beleg and Fabian waited outside.
“Your… friend… is engaged with a garrulous halfling.” Dry. Fabian smiled, though whether at Beleg’s latest piece of self-deprecation or Von’s finessing was not clear — or particularly important. As she raised her black and silver helm, the moon elf’s eyes scanned the sparsely occupied street, darting from shadow-bound doorway to doorway. Her vision picked out a peculiar scene.
“It might just be dawn by the time she is done chatting then. I have not met a single silent hin yet.”
Von motioned to the two bodies on the road, one prone, one, smaller, halfling, kneeling, and whispered:
“That halfling seems to have talked its victim into a coma… or we are witnessing the world’s slowest mugging.”
Beleg grinned.
“North on foot?” but by now, Von’nes’ attention was fully focussed on the scene before her. A guard, paying no attention, walked past the recumbent pair. Von’nes exhaled through her nose, heavily, and stepped forwards. Still no sign of life… though there were no signs of blood. The human did appear to have been dragged a short distance from a small pool of vomit. Humans! Drunk. Insensitive. Neither moved. Two drunks. And one of them a freak. She took in the hin’s purple hair and over-sized pack. Or a circus performer. No response from this one either… Von’nes slowly raised her foot. Just as she was about to swing it down, the halfling sighed. Von paused, poised on one leg.
“Me is drunkard old hag watch.”
What? Von’nes regained her balance as the halfling sighed and stared at the passed-out woman before her.
“I had thought there were… two… such,” spoken precisely. Another guard walked past, oblivious to the tableaux. The purple-haired watcher glared at her.
“Me think that rude thought!”
Von’nes shrugged, eloquently. Circus performer. Or escaped lunatic. Pesters people. Follows them around. Her gaze shifted as a gentle snore came from the ludicrously over-sized pack the hin had strapped to her back.
“What’s going on here, citizens?” Distracted by the moving pack, Von’nes had not noticed the approach of the guard. She looked back at its carrier.
“It appears you have been relieved, halfling.” The hin looked up and sighed with relief.
“You bring wooskow, guard sir? Me is drunkard watch…”
The guard’s patience seemed already stretched.
“Who is this?” Curt. Glancing over the group, the three others having walked up behind Von. The moon elf’s attention remained locked on the halfling, intrigued as to how she would explain herself.
“Me no knows… me discovers… and me kepts watchs…”
The guard was suitably impressed.
“Very well then. I’ll take it from here,” sarcastic, “Good work.” The hin piped up again. Von’nes struggled to contain her amusement.
“Me asks you takes her to tank, for safeties,” peering at the badge on the guard’s uniform, “Patrolman…?” The guard sighed and, reaching down, grabbed the woman by the collar. The halfling bit her lip as she watched her precious drunkard being dragged off, down the street. Glancing over her shoulder, Von muttered a few words in Elvish to Beleg.
“One drunk or two?” The halfling’s bag lurched and the hin staggered as she tried to stay on her feet.
“Or even three?” Von’nes attention locked back onto the bag. That pack has a halfling attached. Steadier on her feet, the hin glowered up from underneath her purpled locks.
“Will your passenger approve of the delay?”
The hin growled. Von’nes nearly burst out laughing.
“Fey of the moon, your lip…” purple tresses were rearranged, irritably.
That was too much. The sound of elven laughter rang out into the cold night air.
“This one could follow you, Beleg. As you… knock-out… your assailants, she could stand watch over them.” The hin turned away slightly, struggling to keep her balance as her pack shifted.
“Until a guard arrived to claim them. You could split your… reward.” Behind her, Ravin grinned. The halfling’s jaw dropped.
“Perhaps not. She does not seem… aware enough… to be relied on.” Uncomprehending, blinking eyes peered up at her.
“You… you is just thugs!” the halfling exclaimed. Von’nes laughed. Point proven.
“I think not.” Fabian had removed his helm and stepped forwards into the moonlight. “Calling a man of the cloth a thug is quite the insult.” The hin gasped, eyes wide with recognition. Such incomprehension. Almost impressive.
“You! You hangs out with… jerk lady? Me no gobbies and orc with more tack!” Hands placed on hips, “Why she make order anyway?” More hair rearranging.
“The lady is a… skilled… warrior, and one of the fair-folk, and although her attitude shows disdain, I am sure she means no harm.” Fabian whispered something else. Beleg muttered. The hin snorted.
“Not enough violence, Beleg?”
“Too much, mayhap.”
Ravin closed her eyes and sighed.
“And here I thought we were just going to see about that caravan.”
Von’nes looked up at the sky and shrugged as the halfling muttered something unintelligible.
“Not dawn yet.”