1. Laurence
"People are too trusting with where they tell their secrets Cora," Laurence stated, as he leaned against the scarred wooden walls of their dark side of the tavern, his hands occupied with his ale. The air was thick with the murmurs of shady characters, their identities obscured by shadows and secrets.
Across the room, perched at a table, sat a motley crew of individuals that would make anyone not used to the type that frequented the bar uneasy. Two dark elves were unmistakably marked with the intricate patterns of the Rajani Alliance with tattoos on their arms. A grizzled Dwarf from the Kinley shire, barely reaching the height of a child, sat on a log to match the elves' eye level. His weathered face bore the marks of time and toil, with a thick, bushy beard cascading down his chest, unlike Laurence's own, adding to his imposing presence.
But what drew Laurence's attention most was the peculiar addition to their group. A small, crimson creature with bat-like wings, resembling more of a demonic entity they any known creature in Alanthorp. Its fur was deep red, its claws sharp, and its eyes glowed with an unsettling yellow hue. Despite its menacing appearance, it seemed oddly out of place, serving as either a companion or a silent threat.
Cora raised an eyebrow at Laurence and picked food from his beard. The flickering candlelight illuminated her elven features as she swatted away the strands of black hair and bread from dinner. With a sly smirk she acknowledged his knack for noticing the subtle nuances of the bar. "You always pick up on these things, don't you? So what is it this time?"
"Well, I'm trying to work out what the flying thing is, but the Dark elves' are muttering something about a book." He listened in on the older of the two dark elves, the one with dark blue skin and battle scars across his face and arms.
"It's a nimbat. A female at that."
"That thing is female?" Laurence picked up his ale continuing to listen in on the conversation, although his eyes followed the nimbat, a creature notorious for its incessant buzzing presence during conversations. His gaze travelled back to Cora.
"It's the forbidden book, those ordered destroyed by the gods millennia ago and the duchess of the Rajani Alliance wants the copy," the elf said to the dwarf.
Laurence looked back at Cora and smiled. "I don't know if it's the ale talking, but you're much prettier than that other elf. I've always had a thing for girls who have a touch of yellow." He reached out and took hold of Cora's hand, kissing the cool bright-yellow-tinted skin. "For someone who is seventy years old, you don't look a day over twenty."
She raised an eyebrow. "Really? I recall you saying you were into fauns. Now, quit fooling around! We don't have time for you to be goofing off like this. What are they talking about?" Cora pulled her hand away, attempting to hide the obvious blush on her face.
"Something about a forbidden book, the dark elves are wanting to contract the dwarves, and nimbats into getting it for them." The idea sounded easy: break into wherever it was the book was being held and take it for themselves. If Laurence knew the Rajani Alliance, they would pay a high price for an artifact of the gods. But if they would, so would others.
"What are you thinking?" asked Cora, as she played with the ale that had spilt down the side of her mug.
"I'm thinking we take the book and sell it to the dark elves, or the highest bidder. If they want it, then someone else must want it also." Laurence leaned back in his chair and listened in to the conversation once more.
Amidst the murmurs of patrons and the clinking of glasses, an unexpected voice shattered the ambiance. It was the nimbat who broke the silence, her words hanging heavy in the air like a sudden gust of wind. Her voice, deep and resonant, cut through the noise, demanding attention. "We'll entertain your proposal," she rumbled, her tone carrying the weight of authority, "but not without a gesture of commitment upfront."
Laurence's disbelief morphed into a physical reaction; his jaw crashed onto the table. The words that had just reached his ears triggered a whirlwind of thoughts, nearly betraying their covert presence as he instinctively swivelled to locate the source of the unexpected voice. His eyes fell upon the nimbat.
As he observed the scene unfolding before him, Laurence couldn't help but recall what he had heard of nimbats. Despite their irritating habits, they held within themselves the secrets to the land of Nelanthorse that humans, elves, and dwarves didn't. Yet in a twist of irony, Laurence couldn't shake the thought that a nimbat, when caught unaware in its natural habitat, made a delectable meal -- a titbit of information gleaned from his extensive readings.
Cora leaned forward. "And you believe that book is valuable because?"
Laurence leaned in close too, his voice barely a whisper amongst the volume of the crowded tavern. "When was the last time you saw a dark elf engaged in conversation with a nimbat and a dwarf, Cora? And listen to what the little critter is saying. She has quite the mouth on her." Cora's eyes flicked upward, her curiosity piqued by Laurence's observation. But before she could respond, a heavy thud rent the air as something large and metallic landed on the table.
"Shit, Laurence," Cora muttered under her breath, her tone laced with a mixture of surprise and nervousness.
"So, when do ye need it?" the dwarf inquired, his tone betraying a hint of urgency. The dark elves' conspicuous display of wealth seemed to defy the very essence of subtlety, drawing unwanted attention to their clandestine dealings.
With a casual air, the dark elves rose from their seats, signalling the end of the meeting. The female elf turned to the dwarf, her words dripping with veiled threats. "I believe a week is a fair deadline," she stated coolly. "If not, I know of a plant that will eagerly consume your essence."
Her gaze then shifted to the nimbat, her warning directed at the diminutive creature. "And as for you, my flying friend," she continued, her tone tinged with malice, "you'll likely last mere hours before your essence is consumed, leaving you naught but a shadow of your former self."
With that ominous declaration, the dark elves departed, leaving the dwarf and the nimbat to grapple with the weight of their words. The patrons of the tavern remained seated, their faces awash with a mixture of curiosity and unease, stirred by the unsettling exchange they had just witnessed.
"Want to jump in on this one?" Cora asked.
Cora's question hung in the air like a challenge, her gaze lingering on Laurence expectantly.
