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[Dwarmin]

Nárira smirked smugly as the Foxwoman followed her orders. That's how things should always be, she thought.

Why, exactly did she think so?

The answer was complicated. Nárira was not, in and of herself, a particularly bad person. She had merely spent her entire life among her own people-an extremely secluded sect, even more so than usual. Most of her knowledge of other peoples came from books and teachers, information which she had devoured readily. There was no malice in her thoughts-she honestly thought Elves were suited to the best of everything, that the world owed them more-and by extension, her. Nárira had not often faced open criticism. She didn't know to think any other way.

In truth, Nárira was also quite afraid. The one who had sent her to this place had done so out of grief and anger-but he had not perhaps intended to send her so very far...

The Human building loomed grotesquely around her with their rough and ugly walls, so compared to the natural, lithe beauty of the forest. The smell of death and terror was something she was not used to, not at all. The cobblestones hurt her soft feet with their ugly edges. She didn't know how to get Home-where Home even was. Her mind was recalling everything she had learned...and it was not enough. The real world was quickly showed how poorly she was prepared for it. Nárira also tried not to look at the bodies, since she had never faced such violent death-been shielded from it, in fact...but, more than anything, she felt alone. Who among these strange people could she trust? No one...

No one?

[Tiruin]

"Excuse me, ma'am." Sairi said onto Nárira, "I guess I'm following under your banner for now. I'm Sairi Reiko, err...a traveler of my people. If there is anything you'd need, then I'm here to aid."

Her dream was pretty unnerving, to say the least. It came not from Inari - the God of her kin and clan, but from another source entirely. While it seemed like a distant prospect, she hoped these people would listen later on, after they got acquainted with each other.

[IronyOwl]

"North sounds appropriate, but I believe the large ones are preoccupied with the small ones," Aristarsta intoned, watching the Wargal and Troll's antics with curiosity.

Wait for the interrogation to fail finish.

[Dwarmin]

"That's good to hear." she said distractedly.

Nárira considered the strange Foxbeing. She had read about them, of course-magical miscegenation was not an uncommon thing. Mad Wizards and all...Elves were actually responsible for many animal peoples, but Kitsune were not among them...maybe she would 'enlighten' the woman to that story later.

"...well met, Kitsune Sairi Reiko. Uh...may your tail grow long and beautiful, and you remain lithe and free, dancing under the twin green eyes of Mother Moon." Nárira said-quoting what was to Sairi, likely an old, somewhat outdated saying. And more suited from a male to female, almost old fashioned romantic.

Nárira did not intend for it to come out that way, at all.

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Feh. Elves. I knew the bleedin' lot of 'em were flighty benders, but does anyone ever listen?" Talon muttered to himself, overhearing Nari and Sairi's conversation. "Doesn't even know her for five minutes and already trying to get into her furry smalls. Women. Elves. Feh to th' lot o' ye. Gimme a beer and a pile o' gold any day." He ran his thumb over his chin as he considered the collapsed shop. "Aye then. If we're all introducin' ourselves, m'name is Talon of the Ironspear clan," he said, a bit louder so the others could hear him.

(Just joking about Rae again, Dwar. >.>)

[Dwarmin]

"Ayethe. Oft we'rall intergoducinur selfs, m'naye Talonoff Ironserg Pearsclams," he said, a bit louder so the others could hear him.

Nárira tried to make sense of the Dwarves oddly rumbling, slurring words. Something about pears and clams?

She resorted to speaking slowly and loudly, since the books said Dwarves were hard of hearing from living so long underground.

"...I don't know what pears and clams have to do with anything, but my name is Nárira Tanendonel, and I'm not supposed to be here. Do you understand my words, little round Dwarf man?"

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Pears and clams? What're ye on about, elven wench?" Talon shook his head, then spoke slowly for her benefit. He'd heard it said that the elves had pointy ears to warn the other races they couldn't hear very well, and apparently it was true. As he spoke, he pointed a finger at himself to further help translate. "Mah. Name. Is. Talon. Ironspear. Dwarven hero, lass, sole survivor of th' tantrum spiral of Roughcrags in '84. Caused by a loyalty cascade, tha' was, when some stupid idjit accidentally drank another stupid idjit's pint." He shook his head.

"So if ye aren't s'pposed ta be here, then where are ye s'pposed ta be?" he asked, reasonably enough he felt.

[Dwarmin]

Nárira got most of that. She would have to be careful not to excite his stuntoglobin levels.

"I'm supposed to be at home, studying the habits of Mottled Purple Dragons, in fact. There's a test this Crescentmoon. Part 12 of the Dragons Around the World course. Of 33 parts.

But, uh funny story! I've this friend...whom I was enjoying a supremely sensual relationship with...but we weren't really going anywhere...and he cheated first, so it's not like what I did was wrong...but I felt a little bit guilty, at least.

Anyway, he took it all wrong. And he's something of a prodigy Disjunctionist-you know, a Teleport Mage? I believe he made me...go away, with magic. To wherever this is. Though I doubt he intended to send me so far. I'll have my Mother turn him into a Songbird when I get back, put him in a little cage, maybe...my Mothers a noble you know-very rich and powerful. She can turn people into birds. It's her only claim to fame, literally. Sad that she never spread out her talents. But if you need someone turned into a bird...I guess there's no one better. Than my Mother, I mean.

Ahem, but-in any case I'm sort of lost! I've never actually been outside my beautiful, safe forest-where is this city anyway? Heh heh heh..." She finished, laughing nervously and looking around.

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Feck if I know, lass. I was less sober than Urist's mule when I wandered here," Talon said, looking around for some sort of 'welcome to X' sign or perhaps one of those handy idiots that stood near such signs and told you were you were like they didn't have anything else to do all day. None were to be seen; likely the humans had torn down the sign and chased away the village idiot. "I don't s'ppose it's too much ta ask if yer mother ever tried turning people to gold then?" he asked, not getting his hopes up. That would be a useful spell, even if he couldn't cast it himself. Goblin corpses would be worth a damn sight more if they were made out of solid gold.

"So anyway, what ye're saying is that yer mother might have, say, a reward for getting you home?" Talon added. A promise of gold, now, that was worth escorting an elf wherever for a short period of time. He could probably get her home easily enough, grab the gold, get some good equipment, and save the world like that unicorn wanted. Then he'd have a lot more gold and fine dwarven wenches to spend it on.

[Dwarmin]

Nárira scoffed.

"Flesh to Gold? That's Magically impossible-you can't change any one universal material into a another material of a  higher value, as set by the extraplanar mandates on the preservation of wealth and rarity. Everyone knows that. Since most Humanoid flesh is in low demand as a consumer good (thankfully), the best you could do is turn someone into tin, maybe. Animal transformation skirts the rules since the price of pets varies from dimensional region to dimensional region, no definite price is set. It's all very complicated, over your Dwarven head. Literally, as well as hypothetically. You are very short.

...And even then, the transformation reverts after a period of time unless constantly regenerated. Would you want all your coins to turn into bloody people pieces in your pockets? Perish the thought!

Also, Reward? Don't you mean Ransom? Surely, you mean to kidnap me and take me home-like, right now. Dwarves don't do anything nice for free. So I guess I am your prisoner. I surrender.

And on that account, my Mother is quite rich and I am an only child. You'd get a nice ransom from me, assuming I am returned more or less intact in mind and body, Mr. Ironspear."

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Ransom? Aye, likely ye've not heard of th' Ironspear clan, ye seem a sheltered lass. Ironspear clan don't do ransom. It's much more profitable ta just rush th' bugger's home, steal everything not nailed down, and away with it before they can do anything about it." Talon grinned. "Of course, it's not like an elf would have much worth takin'. Anyway, about th' gold turning back ta flesh: if I already paid some poor idjit th' gold, then when it does turn back it's not my problem anymore, is it?" Feh, no reason to pursue that line of dialogue. It was impossible anyway.

"And mind yer tongue, lass. A lot o' dwarves don't appreciate th' short comments. Probably because a lot o' dwarves are drunk off their arse half th' time and take offense ta anything. So, where's yer home at? Seems as good a destination as any, not much point in sticking around this half-destroyed village. Not even anythin' good ta loot, the penniless bastards."

[Dwarmin]

Dwarves were so crass!

"Well, I live in the Great Weathering Woods, most likely generally North of here. Judging by the position of the Sun, If we walk far enough North we should find it-it might even be the goal we're supposed to be looking for, though I would question fate sending me away from the thing I was supposed to find.

It's a very large place, with lots of wild magic-wise living trees, happy talking animals, rapidly shifting seasons in some parts, eternal seasons in others and well, special people like me-I'm a Winter Elf, courtesy of the forest. Very rare. I'm sure you would love it, Dwarf-there's nary a single well traveled road without a pretty garden, a magical gazebo, or a fine fireside Inn for singing, dancing and playing our lutes. We drink at home.

And the best part, is no ugly mines dotting the landscape-we use our Geomancers to ask Mother Soil and Father Stone to give up their valuables. Very ecologically sound.

Which is all the more reason for me to go home. I'll get sick if I spend too long outside the borders of our forest."

So they told her to keep her from wandering away, anyway.

((@Serc: Did my best to describe Dwarven Hell She may be stretching it a bit ))

[Tiruin]

((I love you all. ))

Sairi just stood by along with the tall Magic User. She liked how the conversation was drawing out - it seemed like even these people were lost and had no idea where they were other than a 'generic' human town. Intriguing prospect of seeing this motley bunch together for...undefined reasons.

She decided to keep silent and not intrude on their talk, but it was nice to learn more about her potential allies; she, herself, didn't know where or how she got here anyhow.

[Parsely]

Ganhus ponders within himself as he listens to his companions(?) banter. One day Ganhus will return to his people and show them that the clever ways of tiny people can be worthwhile. They never believe him when he tells them stories of the flying ships he saw, they only laugh and bash his skull when they learn he can speak Humie. Well he'll show them. He will come bearing a great many gifts, and so many smashers that the war-chief will bow his head to me in penitence. One day soon….

[mentallama]

((I love you all. ))

((As do I  you delve into your races history and you come up with amazing ideas I never would have thought of.))