From outside 'The Crossed Arrow Inn' looks both pleasant and well maintained. With stacked logs and marble stone detailing making up the majority of the outer architecture.

Like many of the other structures we have passed during our cart ride, and subsequent short walk, I do notice signs that magitech is utilized in this building too. An overly complex looking techo-steam styled generator sits tucked around the back of the Inn; slowly moving pistons and turning gears visible from our vantage point on the, relatively cleared of leaves, street.

The three of us head inside, passing under a sign that has been fashioned from painted metal; illuminated by a handful of flickering lightbulb-like orbs, two large arrows have been bolted on top of each other in the shape of an X to symbolize the taverns name.

As we enter, the bartender, a thin human with a close trimmed, salt and pepper beard and matching hair, smiles at us and, although preoccupied with a few customers at the counter in front of him, still manages give a friendly wave before he points us toward a empty table near one of the windows.

Picking our way through the busy inn we drop our bags on the floor and tuck them under the indicated table. Several thick carved wooden beams support an upper floor and the glowing orbs that hang from them, and at strategically placed points on the walls, cast the room in a soft yellow light that reminds me of a family friendly restaurant.

I pull out Cinnamons chair which garners a coo of thanks from her but a roll of the eyes and a teeth sucking tisk from Kryst.

Charm vs Cinnamon Butter: Success!

A quick inspection of the time stained tabletop confirms the lack of any sort of size appropriate seating for my second diminutive companion. However, a idea pops into my head.

Before I take my own seat I search about in my pocket and pull out the collection of smooth round rocks I had pocketed yesterday from the bottom of the pool in which had birthed me into this world.

Inventor: Success!

Sorting through I find a couple with a usable shape and, after a quick dip into my tinkering kit for a couple of washer like metal rings and place them on top of each other to form a miniature stone table. I pull one of the empty shotgun sized shell casings from my belt and set it at the edge of the table then indicate toward the makeshift, fairy sized furniture.

Charm vs Kryst Thunderfist: Success!

Kryst gives a snort but I catch the tiny smirk on her lips as she hops down from my shoulder and takes the offered seat leaning an elbow onto her own private table.

Finally, I plop down into my own chair and take the time to look the tavern over. Though packed to near capacity the dining hall has a welcome, homely feel and my spirits soar. More than anything this was what I was looking forward to. Sitting down in a fantasy tavern with my, though it might be a bit premature to call them such, adventuring group for the first time.

The primary clientele looking to be passing merchants or traders. Most sit clustered around the several long tables in the centre of the large room, while smaller more intimate tables like ours, seem to be reserved for couples and handful sized groups of friends; with lone travelers taking up the bulk of the stools at the bar.

Humans look to make up the majority of the patrons, though I spot what is undoubtedly a dwarf, judging by the bushy rust-orange beard and burly stature, puffing away on a pipe at the far corner of the bar. A strange group of humanoids, who have a similar look to Cinnamon, save that they possess cat-like features instead of rabbit, crowd in a semi-private booth; clearly midway through their meal, while a few milky skinned elves pour over papers and sip away at glasses of dark wine at another table.

As I scan the crowd I spot something that makes my blood boil. At a table near the elves there sits a girl in her late teens reading a book as she picks at a bowl of fruit. Attached to her wrist via a glittering silver chain is a collared fairy.

"What's tickling your tailhole, Too Tall?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

I regard Kryst with a glare and realize my distain toward the slaver must be clearly written on my face.

"That." I say with a snort of irritation toward the girl casually flipping through the pages of her novel. Kryst gives the pair an apathetic look and with a small shake of her head braces her elbows on the edge of her tiny table.

"You really haven't had much experience with fairys have you?" Kryst asks.

"What does that--" She cuts me off with a wave of a couple of fingers.

"Go on. Take a good look." Kryst motions toward the girl and her 'pet' with a nonchalant head bob.

I follow Krysts instructions and study the pair. Now upon closer observation of this new fairy I could see the dissimilarity between her and my companion immediately. Though just as shapely and strikingly attractive as the Kung-Fu fighting Kryst who was about the height of a foot tall Barbie doll, this other one topped out at the height of a six inch Gi-Joe action figure.

She even moved differently. Darting along the table in quick erratic movements it scuttled up the woman's arm to perch on her shoulder, its head darting left and right not unlike a squirrel or chipmunk. Gingerly it reached over and batted at the young woman earlobe.

She flinched and gave a smile like one would when tickled. Pausing in her book she reached to her plate, plucked a cherry and offered it to the fairy.

The little creature snatched it greedily and began to chomp away, juice dribbling on its chin. The woman smiled and stroked the side of the fairys tiny face with a finger then returned her attention to her book.

"She's happy." Kryst gave a derisive scoff, "Content in the blissful ignorance of her base, simple-minded cognizance."

The tiny fairy did indeed look cheerful. Every so often it would glance over toward us, particuarily at Kryst, even while continuing to chomp away at her huge fruity meal, stretching her neck out to receive the scritches of her 'owner'. Still I wasn't one hundred percent convinced. "How can you tell?" Are you communicating with her somehow? Telepathically?"

"Of a sorts. They don't have the capacity for speech, and the link that fairys and gleams share," Kryst bobbled her head from side to side, "Well, it's more empathic than telepathic."

"Either way I still don’t see how that makes it alright for a person to keep another as a slave." I question.

"Would it be alright for a farmer Minotaur to own a couple of cows? How about Cinnamon , could she have a pet rabbit? Maybe those Catagat over there." Kryst points to the felonoid 'Thundercats' in their booth. "Would you mind if they had some kitty cats?"

"That's... different." I shake my head. I mean it was different wasn't it?

"It's not slavery and a fairy isn't a person. It's more like animal husbandry or beekeeping." Kryst says, and with a grit of her teeth adds, "In a way that Troll brute was right."

She immediately holds up her hands toward me in an effort to defend herself from what was obviously a painful thing to concede, "Believe me. I'm not completely condoning the practice. Just like I don't condone locking up fish in little glass bowls, or clearing miles of forest for lumber. But a non-gleam fairy isn't like us." She makes a motion to herself and then the rest of the clientele of the tavern. "They may look like a little person to you, but..." Kryst rubs the back of her head and exhales a long breath. "That fairys conform to the common aesthetic of the majority of the civilized cultures is no mere coincidence."

"In a way our appearance is a sort of defense mechanism, conferred by the will of the FaeWylde. Like how the young of pretty much of any species look so cute. You know? How these helpless little defenseless things sort of stay that way until they can take care of themselves. Well, it triggers some sort of primal protective drive from most thinking, feeling, beings."

There is an objection on the tip of my tongue and I'm about to open my mouth as I recall the horrors of my world, but, I refrain from saying anything. On a whole she was right. It was far more likely you would find a person who was appalled at abuse that you would someone who would act upon or condone such behavior.

"And fairys can't be bred like most creatures can. We are birthed in nature and that makes them even more valuable. So it makes little sense to mistreat or harm them. In fact, a happy fairy is a healthy fairy. Many mages and other mana manipulators keep them around to help restore their depleted mana more quickly. So in that way they are usually treated far better than they would be fending for themselves in the wilderness."

AirshipTech: Success!

I get a glimpse in my mind's eye of a habitat like room, filled with bright colorful flowering potted plants and walls covered in writhing ivy. Glowing shards of crystal placed in holders around the room, shimmering sigils etched in wood, metal plates and cables that feed power throughout the Airship. Delivering mana to the spells and magi-tech used to empower the vessel to defy gravity and sail through the air. And there, darting amongst the leaves were tiny fairys. Chasing each other playfully and nibbling on plump, ripe hanging fruits and from birdfeeder like contraptions.

"Huh." I rock back a little and try take in the sudden rush of visual enlightenment and verbal explanation from Kryst.

Cinnamon is strangely quiet throughout the conversation and I'm about to ask her to weigh in, to see if she has any other thoughts or views she can share to expand upon my growing comprehension when a shapely serving girl wanders over with a pleasant smile and a bowl of salted nuts that she places onto the table.

"Evening. Welcome to the Crossed Arrows." She says in a practiced delivery. "Will you be looking for a meal or just drinks tonight?" She pauses for a moment when she spots Kryst at her own miniature table and I can tell she is stifling a chuckle at the sight.

"Meals. And I think we will be needing a room as well." I reply with a smile. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"It's Nicola." She replies, her smile growing a bit wider as she regards me, "Now, you will have to see Mr. Roth about rooms. I think we are pretty full at the moment, but I can certainly help with dinner."