“No, sir.” #111

“Then I think it wise for humans to mind their own business and leave us to our own.” Deron’s tone is polite, but sharp.
The conversation is over.
You leave the camp with both Dorbane and a somber Dagan.
“He means well,” says the young Kutollum, “the men respect my father greatly.”
“Don’t apologize for our ways,” corrects Dorbane sharply.
“No,” responds Dagan, his head lowering, “No, sir.”
“Well, I for one, am not allowing this to simply blow over!”
You slump against a blacksmiths wall, the echo of metal against metal, pounding out thoughts in your mind.
“It’s a simple plan, you bag of dinkey dung!” growls a voice behind the wall, “We wait for Captain Deron in the alley tonight and we can frame that Kutollum bastard and get them to start a war with the Evolu!”
“Deron is a fool, but Raywhen isn’t.”
“Never mind you that—just do your duty and snatch that elf brat when the drugs take effect. I’ll do the rest.”
“Alright. Alright. We better get moving.”
You grab your friends and bolt before the voices emerge from the blacksmith’s shop. Dashing back to The Three Swords, you grab Valda and decide to drop in on the elf camp!

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