Two days have passed since the encounter with Rughorn. Stacy, using a generous application of elbows and shouting, managed to bully herself into Tiny's head. Darius, not wanting to leave his new daughter and the idea of curiosity itself unobserved, joined them.

"I," Thunk. "AM," Thunk. "SO. BORED!" Curiosity was smashing his head against one of the monitors.

Even with a head shaped indentation, the scenery did not change. Grass, thin and sparse, with the occasional rock formation jutting out. The only exciting thing they saw was a tree. Emphasis on was, Tiny kicked it away in boredom.

"Oh, shut up!" Stacy said, lounging uselessly on a sofa. "Hey, Darius?"

"Yes?" The professor was situated at the terminal, all three arms busy typing.

"Where can I get more cigarettes?"

Darius looked up and gave the blonde an intense look. "They are not healthy for you."

"I did not ask you for life advice, didn't I? I asked for a fucking cigarette."

"Alina," Darius said. "We can probably find some in Alina."

"Alina?" Curiosity perked up. "What's that?"

"It's the nearest city," the professor said.

"Where are we exactly?" Stacy asked.

"We are in the old kingdom of Randaros."

"Sooooo…" Curiosity tried to take back the conversation. "How far away is Alina? What kind of city is it? Who lives there? Are there things to see?"

"Let me refocus the monitors to Tiny's front, and you will see."

"What?" Curiosity snapped. "This is not the front?"

"Human boredom is fascinating." Tiny's fridge body turned on from the corner where it was restocking on water. "You actually managed to put a dent in the glass with your head that can withstand artillery weapons. What else can humans do when bored?

"Really?" Cherry said, crawling from under a sofa. "Can I try?" She began fishing in her skirts.

"No," Darius snapped. "Focus! You are meeting dignitaries in a second." He glanced towards Stacy. "Good luck."

All eyes turned towards the screens.

Alina was originally a city populated exclusively by elves, which lived in giant trees, with the middle one as big as Tiny. Till they meet capitalism, discovered advertising, chain stores, public service, and most importantly, plumbing.

Now, the trees were mostly a shell, hollow inside. Thin pieces of fabric hung from the branches, displaying a wide range of advertisements, usually of bright-eyed white-haired female elves in skimpy clothes holding a cleaning products or food.

Bridges made of sturdy material, which looked like wood connected the trees. Initially, it was actual wood, but the health and safety council committee was not happy with the number of elves falling in their death because they tried to walk on a thin piece of wood, with no railing and grips. The elven council drew the line at the asphalt, however. They are more than happy with dirt roads thank you very much. It's a tradition.

A few of the more open-minded elven wizards discovered that if you animated a tree with enough branches, hollowed it out, and gave it enough individual awareness to move about, they made excellent transportation at a cost of course.

Hundreds upon hundreds of these tree mobiles could be seen moving about, some of the more advanced models were swinging from branch to branch, using their extendable vines as grappling hooks.

Nobody even flinched when the massive form of Tiny loomed over the city. They were used to him. There was also a patch reserved exclusively where the giant robot could sit down and rest. Most civilisations had these. The ones that did not usually did not last for long

With a few more steps, Tiny was there, unslinging his backpack. With a massive displacement of air, he put down the building into a well-indented spot. Then the giant sat down, leaned back against the pack, and put his hands down, palms up.

The side of the backpack opened, and buildings exited, clanking their way his shoulder, his arms, torso and legs. Circular disks flew out, carrying people, resources, and tents.

The citizens wasted no time setting up shops and stalls, preparing for trade. There was already a gaggle of beautiful elves surrounding them, eager to trade with Tiny's wondrous and usually illegal wares. The only thing keeping them from swarming in were the few elves in what looked like airy police uniforms were setting up a perimeter.

"What do you mean good luck?" Stacy said.

"Go find someone to get rid of Curiosity," Coincidence muttered under his breath. "Kill your only brother in this whole multiverse, it's not a big deal, it's just fratricide."

Reality's assistant trudged down a well-worn dirt path. Dressed in his work overalls and a useless cap. However, Reality insisted he should take it as a disguise as if anyone would recognise him, and arrived in front of a treehouse.

Not one of those houses you built with your cousin that had two planks and a piece of cloth as a door, but a massive tree, hollowed out from the inside, that elves traditionally used as lodging. Most of the houses along the dirt path had their doors high in the branches, seeing as most elves travelled between those, and a five-meter jump was nothing for the fairy folk.

This particular house, however, was quite different. For one, it had multiple doors. Not like a door on every level, or two next to each other, but two dozen doors scattered randomly all over the place, some upside down, some diagonal, and if Coincidence's eyes were not falling him, one that was sawn down in the middle, with the saw still in it.

Knocking on one of the doors closest to the ground, he waited. A short time later, a latch, next to the door opened, and a nose peered out. And it was one hell of a nose, at least 2 feet in length, thin, and with a red ball stuck on the top.

"Yes?" the nose said, in the exact voice, someone with a nose so big would have. "What do you want?"

"This is the order of Chaos yes?" Coincidence said. "I would like your organisation to get rid of someone."

"Order what now? Who's asking?"

"Look there is a giant banner hanging from your building that says: Order of Chaos, headquarters."

"Good point," The long nose was quiet for a few seconds. "You sure you want us to get rid of someone?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you don't want the Order of Assassins? Their headquarters are a few branches away, and if you say Rudolph sent you, they are gonna give you a discount, two killings for the price of one! How does that sound?"

"No, I want your order to do it."

The nose, now identified as Rudolph, fell silent for a few more seconds, red ball twitching up and down.

"Look," Rudolph began. "I'm only saying this because you seem like a nice chap and you took the trouble to visit us. Nobody visited us for an assassination in at least 60 years. And you know why? The last person who requested an assassination from us was quite surprised when instead of killing the target, we spent two weeks chasing him around the city, naked and ended up building him a palace. Made of shit and leaves."

Coincidence lifted an eyebrow.

"We are the order of chaos," Rudolph answered the unasked question. "What do you expect? Now run along to the assassins order and give Morty my regards."

"Nah." Coincidence smiled widely. "I want you guys to do it."

"Really? After hearing all that?"

"Yes."

"Wow." Rudolph fell silent for a third time. "This guy must have royally pissed of someone if they specifically requested our services."

"Actually," Coincidence said, his grin almost splitting his face in two, "it was my idea."

High councillor Alina, named proudly after the elven city was not having a great day. An influx of chaos worshipers threatened the stability of the town, the dignitaries and companies were pushing more, and more of their policies on her beloved people, even managing to install those awful advertisement strips, and day by day, her culture, her people are being tainted by that awful, awful money. Back in her days, two centuries ago, there was no need for such barbarities as money.

Now, the lumbering giant has shown up, unannounced, with his people. If she ever meets the famed scientist Darius, she will strangle him. It was bad enough when the giant came a few thousand years ago, sat down next to them, staring, creeping the hell out of respectable citizens. Now he became a wandering city, with people of all races and genders, even some elves choosing to live on him. Preposterous!

She was a high elf, one of the few remaining pure elves in this city. Long and lithe features, the classic pointy ears, the only real difference between her and other elves was the gold and blue dress denoting her a member of the ruling class.

Arriving at the foot of the giant robot, the diplomatic party, consisting of her and a bored-looking elf in a suit, damn those budget cuts, started in quiet fascination at the pace in which the market was being built. Alina never saw such speed. Barely five minutes had passed, and the smell of cooking and fresh bread filled the air.

Attention distracted, the counsellor focused on the metal disk flying in her direction. Three people, a tall bald man, with scars all over his face, a blonde woman smoking a stick, and a human grinning ear to ear with a doll on his head.

"Greetings," Zed said, stepping forward. "My name is Zed Nez, representative and diplomat of the citizens of Tiny." Putting a fist to his chest, he bowed deeply.

"Welcome to our city," Alina bowed in return. "My name is Alina, diplomatic councillor of our pound civilisation. I didn't know Tiny acquired a civilization, but that's not surprising considering the giant's proclivity to sit down and watch civilisations. What's more surprising is that Zed the slave, the butcher of millions, is its diplomat, and one versed properly as well! This day is full of surprises."

"Hey!" Stacy said. "You picking a fight lady?"

"Excuse me?"

Without looking, Zed lashed out with a foot and slammed Stacy in the ribs, making her double over and wheeze in pain.

"Excuse my pupil," The professor said smoothly. "I'm showing her how we diplomats do things around here in hopes of some tact may stick to her."

"We?" Alina raised an eyebrow.

"Fuck you," Stacy wheezed. "I never agreed to this."

"She's still rough around the edges." Zed smiled apologetically.

"Very rough along the edges," Alina said. "Are you sure she is the right candidate to train as a diplomat?"

"No," Zed sighed, suddenly looking much older. "No, but you gotta start somewhere, right?"

"Are there no better candidates?"

"Hey!" Stacy protested. "I can be a diplomat too!" She slowly clambered to her feet. "And how come I'm still alive? I'm pretty sure that kick dislodged something in my brain. Don't you think Darius will be pissed that you are damaging his daughter's body?"

"This was his idea!" Zed snapped. "And if I wanted to damage you, trust me, you would know! Now shut up and listen, maybe some diplomacy may stick in that brain of yours!" Turning back towards the councillor, Zed sighed. "Apologies for that, and to answer your previous question, not really, we don't really have anybody with diplomatic affinity, and our student count is less than a hundred pupils, so our options are quite slim."

"I see," Alina said simply, putting away the information that Darius Doves has a daughter now. "What about the young human behind you? He was paying attention attentively to the conversation."

As if by magic, Curiosity disappeared and appeared in front of Alina, hands clasped firmly, but gently around the elf’s dainty hands. The councillor could not even jump back in surprise, it was like she was rooted to the spot.

"Hi, I'm the incarnation of the idea of Curiosity itself," Curiosity beamed. "And the hungover person in my hair is Cherry. Say hi, Cherry!"

The doll, which turned out not to be a doll, looked more ashen in the face than before and was clutching the bag close to her chest.

"Amm," The councillor was not sure what to say. "Your pixie looks sick."

As if declared by fate, Cherry looked the councillor straight in the eye, pulled the bag to her lips, and barfed, with the sound of a sick hamster.

"I'm not a pixie," Cherry said a few seconds later.

With that, she chucked the container to the side. It hit the ground next to the councillor with a wet splat.

Silence.

"Right," Stacy said, grabbing Curiosity by the arm. "I may have the diplomatic subtlety of a rock, but even I know when it's time to leave."

Councillor Alina and Zed watched them leave, the first speechless, and the former horrified and proud at the same time. Stacy may have potential, after all.

Pulling Curiosity away was easy, Stacy thought, but keeping him in once place… Impossible.

"Mate!" The bastard was walking fast. Where does all the energy come from? Her original body was never that fast. "Where are you going?"

"On an adventure!" Curiosity replied.

"Alright, but where?"

"Somewhere more interesting." Curiosity beamed. "Isn't it exciting Cherry, our first adventure!"

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Sure is boss," Cherry said, looking a bit better. "The perfect time for a nap."

Saying that the pint-sized bodyguard stretched on Curiosity's head, a sofa made out of soft brown hair rising automatically under her.

"What?" Curiosity cried out. "How can you say that! There is so much to see!"

"Look, boss." Cherry pulled out two earplugs from one of her pockets. "I spent the last two days being submerged in liquor." She put them in her ear with a loud plop. "Don't worry, I will wake up if you are in real danger, now good night."

With that, she closed her eyes and fell silent.

"Damn," Stacy said. "Wish I could fall asleep like that."

"Shame." Curiosity's spirit was the same. "Still. Adventure beckons. Onwards Stacy!"

Stacy saw that there was no convincing him. Should she follow? She does not want to get left behind again; he was the only anchor to her sanity, her old body. Then again, she felt safe near Darius. Probably instincts of when this body belonged to his daughter. On the other hand, she was in a city of fucking elves. But it was not quite how she imagined it.

The streets of Alina were packed, busy elves, some in long flowing dresses, some in overall were hurrying to their respective jobs. An occasional pixie or two zipped past, carrying mail or other relevant documents that needed to be delivered fast.

Curiosity and Stacy flattened themselves next to a wall when a particularly cumbersome tree-car trundled past, flailing branches hitting a few pedestrians in the face, gathering an ever-increased amount of glares.

"Let's go there." Curiosity pointed towards the trunk of a tree on the other side of the road, decorated with small flowers and colourful neon signs, declaring it the Tranquillity.

What looked like something out of a horror movie stood in front of the building. It was massive, at least seven feet tall; green, with bark-like growths on its arms and legs. From its head tick, long branches sprouted, covering its face and neck. 2 glowing red orbs gave any indication that it had eyes at all.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Stacy said. "We don't even know what's that, why it is there, what we are doing, and how to approach it."

Silence.

"Curiosity?"

He was already in front of the monster.

"Hi," he said, extending a hand, "I'm Curiosity. You?"

The monster turned its moss-covered head downward, dislodging a few pieces of leaves in the process. Slowly, almost like it did not believe what it was doing, lifted a mossy hand.

"I'm Rod." Its voice was deep and disbelieving like he did not believe what was happening right now. "Pleasure."

"Excuse me," Stacy said, keeping a respectable distance. "What exactly are you?"

"A bouncer to this club."

"Right, oh sorry." Stacy's face reddened a bit. "Sorry about the weird question, both of us technically started existing a week ago, we are still puzzling things out."

"Oh?" Rod's eyes lit up. "Are you a summoned servant too?"

"No." Stacy's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean servant? Is someone controlling you?""

"It's not bad; a master is a nice person, always encourages me to talk with people and have extra-personal relationships."

Aha, Stacy thought, a victim of Stockholm syndrome, bound to his summoner, with no free will, only sprouting this kind of stuff to keep his sanity intact. Maybe that's why she is in this body, helping abolish this awful practice and incite a revolution. Finally, something a hero summoned to another word can do. She ignored the voice whispering in her head that said you are no hero, just a perplexed woman. First, she needs to do something.

"Curiosity?" Stacy said, folding her arms.

"Yes?"

"Let go of the bouncer's hands."

"Okay."

"It's fine," Rod said. "More than fine actually. He's the first person to touch me without intention to main in a long while."

"Why?" Stacy said. "Are you forced to fight in a gladiator arena or something?"

"No, no, just look at me." Rod lifted his arms. A green and slightly putrid vine fell out from his biceps. "You are probably the first people in two decades who stopped to speak with me. With my race inability to sleep, I was just standing here, guarding this club all day."

"Don't you have a house?"

"Not really, I don't need to eat, sleep, or go to the toilet. There is a shower and a small break room in the back if I ever want to clean myself or sit."

"How long have you been working here?" Stacy was starting to get angry. What kind of life is this? Her suspicions were starting to get true.

"Three hundred years?" Rod had a faraway look in his eyes. "I'm not sure."

"What?! Why?"

"I was created for this specific purpose to guard this club."

Curiosity, who was silent till now, leaned forward and patted Rod on a moss-covered knee.

"Come with us," he said, looking Rod in the eyes. "I know you are curious about the world. You always wanted to see what's living like; we can show you that."

Before Rod could answer, a group of elves, two women and three men came out from the club, so drunk that their ears were pointing in a different direction.

The tallest one, dressed in a sleeveless shirt and jeans looked with curiosity upon the conversing trio. He blinked, lurched forward, and said, "Rod?" His musical voice held a tone of disbelief. "What are you doing?"

"Master!" Rod said. "Good to see you."

"Master?" Stacy was starting to wind up. This guy who created this poor creature. It was time for retribution.

"What are you doing?" the elf repeated, blinking the dizziness away. "Who are these people?"

"We are his friends." Stacy’s prepared a laser in the face. "Is that a problem?"

"Oh." The elf blinked and blinked again. A wide smile blossomed on his face. "Why didn't you say so?" He clapped Rod on the shoulder and then turned around to his entourage. They were staring at the proceedings in the way only extremely drunk people can.

"Hey, guys," the blonde elf said. "Rod made friends."

"Ohhh."

"Nice."

"Awesome."

And comments of that nature came from the drunken peanut gallery.

"Come." He turned around towards the bewildered Stacy and Curiosity. "My name is Ralesh. Let's have a drink in celebration of Rod finally making friends."

He turned around so fast; he almost fell on his face.

"DRINK ON THE HOUSE TODAY, ROD MADE SOME FRIENDS," Ralesh shouted, walking back into the club, his entourage cheering and clambering after him.

Stacy looked at the Rod, who looked just as confused as she felt, then at Curiosity, who just shrugged, withdrew his hand, stood up, and smiled warmly.

"Come on, live a little." He gestured towards the door.

The club they entered was circular, with a small wooden podium at the far end. A beautiful elf played what looked like an electric violin, which produced a pleasant, high-intensity melody. Small tables, made of wood were scattered in an orderly fashion, with small bean bags arranged around them, with plenty of space to move. Waiters and Waitresses, elves, with the odd fairy mixed in, dressed in sharp tuxedos were walking around with trays placing drinks and taking orders.

A bar was on the side, with an octopus person making drinks with high efficiency. The walls were decorated in soft greens and brows, with paintings of nature placed strategically to create a pleasant atmosphere. Potted plants, well cared for, were scattered in the corners.

"Damn," Stacy whistled. Wow, she could never whistle in her old body. "This place looks cool."

"This club is the master’s pride and joy," Rod declared proudly.

"Over here," came the voice in question, from the front, near the podium.

The trio made their way forward, people automatically moving out of the way from the imposing monster. Some patrons, however, the regulars, were calling out his name and toasting in his honour.

Ralesh was located near the side of the podium, with a bigger table and actual chairs. When he saw that there was no more space at his table, he snapped at his entourage.

"Go. I need the space," He shooed.

"But."

"Now!"

"We could..."

"Did I stutter?" Ralesh's gaze darkened.

They quickly scuttled away. Ralesh sat down with a pleased expression on his face, gesturing for the trio to sit down.

When the two travellers and the bouncer were situated on the plush chairs, a waiter appeared from nowhere, with a full tray. Four mugs made of wood, with intricate carving on their side, one made of metal, a bowl of small green leaves, and an elegant box, holding five sulphur sticks.

"Try it." Ralesh picked up a cup. "It's the best elfish wine in the land," He took a sip, letting out a satisfied smile. "My best batch made it myself."

"This," Ralesh continued, plucking a leaf from the bowl. "It's fresh mint, cultivated fresh in the back garden," He popped one into his mouth. "Try it."

"Fuck this!" Stacy had enough. "What the fuck is happening, Rod?" Her eyes turned so cold even the monster flinched. "Your master is the one keeping you from living life, right? AND YOU!" She turned towards Ralesh. "You are the one keeping him from living his life, right? Then why are you so nice and happy for him?" As quickly as it came, the anger was gone. "What is happening? I don't get any of this."

Rod shot Curiosity a pleading and worried glance, but the young man just lifted his arms in what can you do with the gesture.

Ralesh folded his arms, leaned back, and looked Stacy right in the eyes.

"I confess," he said. "I may have created Rod for the sole purpose of protecting this club. But it's been three hundred years. By the gods, I tried to make him socialise and help him make friends. Blind dates, support groups, bribing, heck I also gave him a month vacation per year, but he never takes it."

"I don't know where to go," Rod admitted, staring at his hands. "Everyone is afraid of me."

"You are the first people in a hundred years," Ralesh said. "Who talked with him for more than five minutes."

"Surely there were other people," Stacy said in horror. "What about all the patrons who cheered and toasted in his name."

"Respect and fear sure, but actual friends? I think I will just show you."

Ralesh lifted his hand, and the same waiter as before materialised out of nowhere.

"Look Rod in the eye," the elf ordered.

The waiter froze.

"Now!"

Slowly, like it was painful to do so, he did. His jaw started to twitch.

"Now touch him."

"Sir." The waiter did not move.

"Did I stutter?"

"No, sir." The waiter looked to the floor.

"See." Ralesh looked at Stacy in disappointment and resignation on his face. "I tried everything, as well." The tension left the elf like someone punched him in the gut. "Even this. Look." He turned towards the waiter. "Eshcanor! Touch him, or you are fired!"

"Sir," the waiter said, still not moving.

"Oh just fuck off," Stacy said, grabbing a drink with her claw and throwing it in the waiter's chest. The elf was lucky that the blonde already drank all of its contents.

"Go away," Ralesh said promptly.

The waiter bowed, picked up the cup from the floor and disappeared.

"See," the elf continued. "I created him too well," He took a swing from his cup. "I was young and stupid, wanted to create the scariest and terrifying monster. I was not thinking about the future, or about Rod, I was thinking about the prestige a creature like him would bring me," He looked down at his drink. "I was foolish."

"Master," Rod said. "Can I go with them?"

Ralesh did not seem surprised, looking wistful. Stacy nodded vigorously; Curiosity just smiled.

"One of you needs to become his new master," the elf said.

"What?" The blonde was outraged.

"I'm a magical construct," Rod began. "I need a master to leech power from otherwise I die."

"I don't have any magic," Curiosity piped in helpfully. "At least not what you guys consider magic. And my body comes from a place where magic does not exist."

Ralesh just now realised that he had no idea who these people were and how they managed to befriend his monster. Maybe, just maybe, he should not let himself get carried away and give up Rod so easily.

"I will then," Stacy said, eyes blazing. "What do I do?"

"Before we continue," Ralesh said, turning towards his creation. "Rod, is this what you really want? You just meet these people, and you have not even told me their names yet," he picked up a leaf. "We don't know much about you two. Things are happening a bit too fast, don't you think?"

Rod looked down at his moss-covered hands, the spell of having people to talk to finally broken. What was he doing?

Stacy's eyes returned to normal. What they were doing. They got caught up in the moment and her own prejudice. Who was this Rod really? What business does she have to just bind a person to her, just like that? She leaned back, lighting a cigarette.

"You are right," she said. "We are too hasty. No offence, Rod."

"None taken."

"I'm Stacy." She shook hands with Ralesh. "I'm sorry for my outburst, I have not been the most stable of persons in the past couple of days."

"No worries." The elf waved the concerns off. "You don't seem to be from around here, I can tell. And you?" He turned towards the other human. "I have not heard you talk much."

"I'm the idea of curiosity itself," he beamed. "Nice to meet you."

They shook hands.

"He is not pulling your leg," Stacy said. "Anything that's even remotely connected with curiosity he knows."

"Really?" Ralesh leaned forward in interest. "Tell me what I am curious about?"

"You wanna know if Stacy's third hand would make things more interesting in bed."

Stacy's face caught fire.

"Her," Curiosity continued, pointing towards Stacy. "Is curious about how it would feel if she slept with you, and would that makes her gay or straight."

"What's gay and straight?" Ralesh lifted an eyebrow.

"Sleeping with the same sex or not."

Ralesh turned towards Stacy, a genuinely puzzled expression on his face. "Why is that important? Sex is sex, right? As long as both parties want it, does it matter who you do it?"

"I have a man's memories!" Stacy blurted out, trying to hide her face in Rod's side.

"So? The question is, do you want to have sex with me or not, not what kind of memories you have."

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Sure," Ralesh grinned. "What about the three giggling women over there."

"The woman with the hat and white hair," Curiosity said. "Is curious if her family would approve if she ran off with an orc. The black-haired one is curious how would it feel to be pinned down and ravaged by Rod."

The elf in question heard them and promptly choked on her drink. Ralesh burst out laughing.

"See my friend," the elf said, patting Rod on the back. "There may be someone for you after all."

"Oh, no no," Curiosity said. "She would not sleep with him even if the alternative was death, she's just curious about how it would feel."

"Ah." Ralesh let his hands drop. "Figures."

"What about the one with the ponytail," Stacy said before an uncomfortable silence could creep in. "What is she thinking?"

"Not thinking," Curiosity said. "What is she curious about, I can't read minds, only curious thoughts."

"Get on with it!"

"She's curious why I have a pixie sleeping in my hair."

"That is a good question," Ralesh piped in. "Why do you have a pixie sleeping in your hair?"

"You only ask that now?" Stacy raised an eyebrow. "Did it bother nobody? Not even the fact that his hair is a fucking sofa?"

"Hey, I don't know the customs and traditions of you humans, for all I know, pixies sleeping in your head is considered normal and not something to be commented upon."

"Point."

"I'm not a pixie," Cherry mumbled. "I'm Cherry Pop."

"It speaks!" Ralesh said.

"Cherry!" Curiosity beamed. "You awake? How was your nap?"

"Surprisingly refreshing." Cherry yawned, blinked, and looked around for a bit. "I see you got us into a bar. Perfect."

The pint stretched her arms out and clambered to her feet. Moving her neck up and down a few times, the joints letting down a squeaky sound, she jumped off the hair sofa like a springboard. Tumbling a few times in the air, she landed perfectly on her feet, arms outstretched. Ralesh and the nearby tables clapped enthusiastically.

"Thank you, thank you," Cherry bowed. "Thank you truly, now, where can I get a drink?"

"For that performance," Ralesh grinned. "On the house. Eshcanor!" The waiter materialised next to the table. "Ale for our little friend. The best we have!"

"You know how to get to a lady's heart," Cherry smiled. "Thank you."

Before she even finished the sentence, the bodyguard was back, with the golden liquid.

"Oh," Cherry said, taking the cup. "This is actually in my size. Colour me impressed."

"Naturally," Ralesh said. "A lot of our customers are pixies, and not any pixies, royalty too." Ralesh leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. "See there? The table with the red cloth with the dozen pixies on it? That's prince Zan Nettlewhisp and his retinue, the youngest son of the pixie queen."

"Wait for just a second," Stacy said, leaning forward and peering intently. "Are they drinking shots off each other's belly button?"

A dozen pixies, in various states of intoxication, barely dressed in short skirts and robes, wings folded, were indeed drinking shots out of each other's belly button.

The only male pixie in the group, Zan Nettlewhisp, if Stacy had to guess, was carefully pouring some kind of gelatinous green liquid into the belly button on a female pixie hovering a few feet above the table.

When an amount that Stacy was not sure if it even constituted as a raindrop, the prince dipped down and slurped up the liquid as quickly as a dehydrated pug.

"I'm not sure how to react to that," Stacy said, confused.

"It's a strange custom," Ralesh agreed. "I'm not sure where Zan learned it."

"Zan?" Stacy raised an eyebrow. "Don't you normally call the heir to the throne by their title?"

"Heir to the throne? Zan? I see you are unfamiliar with pixie culture" The elf chuckled. "There are at least 2000 pixies with the title prince, it's given to any pixie born to a wealthy family. It's more of a formality than anything."

"Oh, I'm disappointed. I thought I saw a bona fide monarch for once. Always wanted to see one of those."

"Why?" Curiosity asked.

"To break their bones and ground them to dust, of course. Never trusted monarchies, giving that much power to a bunch of inbred people is never a good idea. It gets to your head, and you start thinking that starving a nation just so you can get a pretty jewel necklace is a good idea."

"Inbred people?" A high pitched, but surprisingly cultured voice said. "I will let you know we stopped that practice hundreds of years ago."

"Ah!"

Stacy's claw automatically snapped to the side, but the figure dodged with ease.

"Whoa whoa," Zan Nettlewhisp said, hovering a few feet from the table. "You could have killed me with that. Ralesh, where did you get this one? She's a feisty one."

"This one has a name!" Stacy snapped. "It's Stacy!"

"Zan Nettlewhisp," The pixie bowed mid-air. "Merchant prince and lover extraordinaire, at your service."

"Zan," Ralesh greeted. "It's good to see you, my friend, but I didn't find her, Rod did."

"Rod?" Zan looked at the giant moss monster in disbelief. "Really? You rascal. I didn't know you had such skills, you gotta teach me."

"Right?" Ralesh smiled. "He made not one, but two friends. Zan, I would like you to meet Curiosity."

Silence.

"He's gone," Cherry said. "He's over there playing dice." She pointed with a lollipop.

True to her word, a few tables away, Curiosity was sitting with a few older looking elves with severe faces and lots and lots of earrings. In front of them were tree red cups and a bunch of dice. It looked like the game already started, with Curiosity, a pile of chips in front of him, grinning like a maniac, while the elves looked on with sour expressions.

"By Titania!" Zan Nettlewhisp exclaimed, blurring and repairing on the table in front of Cherry. "I have never seen such beauty in my one hundred years of life." He grabbed Cherry's outstretched arm, kneeled, and kissed the top of his arm. "I am not worthy of facing such beauty. How may I address such a wondrous creature?"

"A flatterer!" Cherry exclaimed with a slight blush. "I haven't been complimented this smoothly since my stay in the smurf village, that old man had some great skills. You may call me Cherry."

"Gods," Stacy said, throwing her hands in the air. "I can't deal with this, two lego figures flirting! I need a stiff drink,"

"Sure," Ralesh smiled. "The best we have."

This time he didn't even need to say anything, the waiter appeared, holding a cup of something green and steaming.

"This is an in-house speciality," The elf continued. "Sap from the elder tree, with a pinch of the secret ingredient. A cup of it can knock out a 1000-year-old elf, I recommend you drink it slowly…"

It was too late; Stacy had already drunk it all. She put down the cup with a satisfied smile.

"This is some good shit," she said.

"I was wrong," Zan Nettlewhisp said in awe. "She's a monster."

Ralesh just stared open-mouthed.

"See?" Stacy smiled. "I have high alcohol tolerance, don't you worry."

Just as she said that her face contorted into a strange grimace and her skin became so hot, it began steaming.

"Shit," Stacy hiccupped. "I was wrong."

With that, Stacy's head hit the table with a loud thud. For a few seconds, nobody said anything, just stared in silence and slight horror at the blonde. The thud was surprisingly loud. Finally, after a few minutes, Cherry broke the silence.

"Can I have what she had?"

"Monsters," the pixie prince whispered. "Monsters the both of you."