Author's Note:

This chapter has been updated as of 19/5/16. Thanks for reading!

*******************************************************************************

            Ellen finished telling the late risers where Katrina, Percival, Kegar and Lizzy had gone. With Kegar gone, Köttur had crept around the fire to curl up at Ellen's feet. The large feline liked it when she scratched his brow ridge. Kegar never bothered to scratch him.

           Largely, the group listened before setting about their morning rituals. However, not everyone was more interested in breakfast and baths. One person in particular was furious that she had not been included in the delegation.

            "I can't believe you guys are falling for that!" Faute spat, looking at the members of the group who didn't go into Capita.

            Ellen shrugged, "It's well known that the people of Capita hate the other races. They have reasons for some of it, like their animosity toward dwarves, but mostly I think they are just hateful."

            "According to Percival!" Faute stomped her delicate foot and crossed her arms. "He's probably lying!"

            Strozazand tossed a small book at Faute. She missed the catch because her nose was too high up in the air for her to see the book coming her way. It struck her chest and fell to the ground. "Remember when we told him that no one could be so stupid to just hate everyone? Then he brought this back?" The book in question detailed the horrors of non-human races - including what would happen to you if you engaged in intercourse with them. It went into extravagant detail about what kind of diseases a man could catch if he interbred and even outlined how allowing your daughter to fall into bed could result in all your crops being cursed.

            Mary picked it up from where it had fallen to the ground, "I didn't realize you had held onto this filth so long." She flipped through a few pages before coming across a particularly vivid picture. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. "By the gods!" She mouthed.

            Strozazand shrugged mumbling, "It pays to be informed." As a dargon he tried to remember everything he came across, but some things, especially propaganda like that tended to be hard for him to retain. He kept the booklet so he would remember what was in it.

            Shandra who had been ignoring the asinine conversation in favor of breakfast, which was a grain meal, although, by this time, it was mostly cooled, wandered over to look at the book over Mary's shoulder, "I remember that book. Sir Wilbur ordered them to all be burned because of how disgusting it was." She glanced at Stroz, "They had over one hundred and fifty words or phrases for elf that meant whore. I must say, I hadn't expected them to be so articulate."

            Broden was the only one among the group who had never read the book, although he had looked at the pictures. He had never bothered to learn to read and found the whole discussion to be a waste of time. I'd rather be bathing than talking to Faute about elf habits. He served another helping of the congealing meal. Good. He smiled at his delicious food, his whole face beaming at it. He was getting used to flavorful, cooked food.

            The small tips of Faute's ears turned red. "Don't you see? That was his ploy! He wants you to think of him as our emissary so he can cheat us blind!" Blank faces turned back to their breakfasts. "Fine! I'll go by myself!"

            Finos gave a gentle, respectful tug on her robe. It was clear he had been trying to get her attention for a while. "Faute, I snuck down there last night and they had some pretty graphic posters of what they wanted to do to elves. I don't think that booklet was lying. In fact, I think it may have been understated."

            Or at least, he tried to say that. But when she saw who it was, tugging on her robe, she shrieked and slapped him. "Don't touch me you filthy half man!"

            Even with her calling him a half man - anyone else would have found a knife in their ribs for that - he still tried to warn her.

            The irony of Faute's hate for Finos wasn't lost on anyone - even Broden. Faute railed against how stupid humans were for hating elves, but she was a complete bigot. More than a few of them hoped she found some elves to run off with. Chanceux was always so kind, how did she end up so cruel? Thoughts arose around the fire, things they had thought for years and years but could never say in such a small town. Why did she insist on telling us he wasn't her real father? Everyone knew he was, but he let her tell lies about him.

            She kicked at him, "Don't touch me!"

            "Come on now, he was just trying to get you to listen to him!" Ellen shook her head in disgust, "No need to get violent."

            Finos looked up at Ellen and smiled briefly in thanks.

            Faute sniffed in disdain, "Can you resist those obscene thoughts for even a moment, Finos?" Faute needed to believe that Finos was a sex crazed beast. She had decided that was his entirety years ago. Her disdain came from that assumption, an assumption that she would never revisit. If it turned out that she was wrong, that his every respectful gesture wasn't a terrible sexual plot then she was wrong for the constant abuse she hurled at him. Only someone cruel or evil would do the things she was doing... to someone innocent. But he is a beast, so I'm only treating him how he deserves.

            Faute stomped off. She made her own way to Capita. She would show them. The fools. Needless to say, Faute didn't believe Katrina's prophesy. Katrina is always manipulating people so she can be in charge! She is a cowardly bully! But I see through it, I see her for the slut she really is. Always stringing along Cole and flirting with Finos!  With those thoughts firmly embedded in her head, she reasoned that there was no reason she shouldn't go to Capita and see it's wonders. Katrina's just trying to keep something nice from me!

            Faute pushed her hair away from her ears. She was proud of her points. Her father always  told her to hide them outside Pode, but the only thing she was ashamed of was how her friends were uncultured swine. As she approached Capita, the size of the crowd was overwhelming. There were more people waiting to get into Capita then there were in all of Pode. It was staggering. But she was an elf and she wouldn't be cowed by these humans. She pushed her way forward, through the crowd using a small magic to force people in front of her out of her way. As she shoved them aside people's heads started turning, watching her.

            A threat triggered her instinctive defensive reaction, she whipped around and fired off a beam of gold and silver light. The tomato burst, some of the juices being vaporized, but a little bit splattered Faute's hair.

            She used an enchantment to make her voice boom. "How dare you worthless humans assault me? Show yourself so that I can destroy you!"

            The crowd was silent for a collective moment before a tidal wave of produce began to pelt her. She was able to destroy some of them with her defensive magic. Some of it splattered on the field of force that she had been using to push through the people, but there was so much she couldn't stop it all. She fled deeper into the city, searching for a tavern to duck into.

            She ran past graphic pictures of what should be done to the other races, but she didn't notice them. She didn't notice that the first inn she saw, The Talking Horse also had one of these posters on it. She slipped into it. It was packed. Something that would come as no surprise since the people were fleeing the outlying towns. But Faute didn't know that. She just thought Capita was always this packed. It was the first city she had ever seen. She elbowed her way to the bar. She felt filthy for having to rub against so many humans to get here.

            "How can I help you miss?" The bartender's deep voice brought her back to reality.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

            Faute sniffed, lifting her chin in distain for her surroundings, "A hot bath if you please."

            The bartender shook his head, "No can do. All my rooms are full." He paused eyeing her suspiciously, "Where are you 

from? You don't sound like you are from the inner towns."

            With one had she straightened her robe, trying to look regal, "Most recently from Pode." Always actually.

            "Pode?" he laughed, "Get out of here, I have paying customers to deal with."

            Faute was shocked, "But I have money!"

            He laughed again, heartily. This time some of the patrons joined in, "Your wooden coins aren't worth anything here."

            "Wooden?" She was stunned, "I have coppers like anyone else."

            The bartender laughed and walked away.

            Faute made her way to the fireplace. It was the only clear place in the tavern. If I can't get clean I can at least get dry. A single upholstered chair was by the fire with a rug under it. Gold threads danced across the fabric, making the chair sparkle in the flickering firelight. No one stood on the rug, also woven with gold and silver, even though the rest of the tavern was packed to the gills. An elderly man, dressed in clothes finer than any she had ever seen, sat in the chair enjoying a hearty pint of ale. The cost of his clothes could have purchased Sir Wilbur's keep multiple times.

            The knight in the chair looked up at the filthy peasant woman who had come to his fire. Normally, he wouldn't let someone set foot on his carpet, let alone someone so dirty. But he saw from where her hair was plastered to her skull that she was an elf, a very dangerous thing to be, and he was in need of something being done. Perhaps he could use her? If not, there was always time to throw her to the common folk. "Girl. You there, the filthy peasant."

            Someone shoved Faute toward him. "Yes..." How dare anyone speak to me that way! But she saw the ring on his finger marking him a knight so she didn't retaliate, "sir?"

            The knight cocked his head when she began speaking, "I recognize that accent. Tell me, do you by chance know Sir Wilbur?"

            "Yes." She nodded, "He is the lord over Pode."

            "Ah, Pode." The knight was quiet for a moment before gesturing to a stool by the fire. It hadn't been there before, but Faute wasn't observant enough to have noticed that. "I believe the king is meeting with a delegation from Pode. Even Sir Wilbur's granddaughter is part of it. Were you not important enough to be included in the delegation?"

            Faute sat on the offered stool, "Of course I am important! They sent me in to see what could be seen. Talk to the people that sort of thing. All very important." She waved her hand dismissively. Her lie struggled to sound convincing to even to her.

            The knight smiled thinly. "That was wise of them, seeing how useful and intelligent you are." He looked away for a moment, touching his ear, "My sources tell me that the king is requesting your friends kill the orc chieftain. I happen to know something he won't bother to tell your friends. Would you like to know what that information is?"

            Faute nodded slowly. I'm not certain what he would know that is useful since he couldn't see through my lie... maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought it was?

            "The orc chieftain has trolls working for him. At least two. I know this because they stole my horse, Paint." The knight's eyes narrowed, "If you are able to find and return him in good health I will reward you handsomely."

            Faute straightened her spine, "How will I know him?"

            The knight chuckled, "This inn is named for him. Believe me, if you find him. You'll know he is the one."

            I hate riddles. She considered the name of the inn for a moment, This horse Paint can't possibly talk! That's impossible. I suppose I'll have to figure it out later. "Of course."

            The knight slipped a ring off his finger. He held it up to his lips, breathing on it gently before shining it for a moment on his sleeve. It wasn't his signet ring, just a simple gold band with a green stone in it. "Please, take this ring as my thanks for looking for Paint. Even if you aren't able to find him, or save him, you may keep it. Should you run into the trolls it will help you."

            "Thank you," She accepted the ring without hesitation, she was about to slip it on her finger when a suspicious thought caught up to her "but what is it for?"

            "Three times a day it can shoot a ball of acid. I wish I had it when the trolls took Paint." He sighed, "But you need it more than I do."

            "Thank you." She said slipping the ring on her finger. Of course, he wants me to do what no one else can. It only makes sense for him to help me prepare.

            He snapped his fingers and four guards came toward them from the crowd. "Now, it appears to me, unless my eyes deceive me that you have elf ears. Something that usually only occurs when there is also elf blood."

            Faute tried to toss back her hair so she could show off her ears, but her hair was so matted she just looked more foolish. "Of course!"

            "Capita tends to frown on elf blood, really any non-human blood. As I believe you may know by now." The guards grabbed her arms and lifted her from the stool, "I'll have my guards escort you out of the city so you aren't hurt."

            "I'm not really-" But he cut her off.

            "No, my dear, I insist. I don't want you to be harmed after we made our bargain." Nor do I want your foul elf stink stinking up my air any longer. His false smile couldn't be kept up any longer. Disdain closed his face once more. As soon as she had been marched off, a guard stepped forth and threw the stool on the fire. The item could no longer be used after she had fouled it with her tainted blood.

            Not long after Faute and the guards had left, some peasant new to the area stepped on the carpet looking to warm himself by the fire. The man's bare feet were dusty from the long days on the road. His clothes little more than rags; that seemed held together by will rather than skill or strength of needle.

            Sir Reginald snapped his fingers and two guards emerged from the crowd, took the peasant outside and beat him nearly to death. Once they finished, they tossed him into the refuse pile, where, unless he was treated his wounds would become infected. His long, agonizing death would serve as a warning to the rest of the wretches. No one stepped on Sir Reginald's rug without his permission. The elf would serve her purpose and then she too would be punished for her insolence.

            He held up his mug and it was immediately refilled by a serving wench. Sir Reginald enjoyed the local ale while he was magically listening in through the trinkets he had passed out to important positions. Particularly, the insignia he had made for and gifted to the king's royal guard. A particular stroke of genius. He thought to himself.

            He knew his benefactor, he refused to think of her as his mistress, would be pleased with how things were moving forward. Oh, I am, my conniving little minion. Her presence poured into his mind like thick black smoke, sifting through his thoughts before moving on. He clutched his mug with white knuckles. It would be terrible if she knew all of his plans. She wouldn't take his treachery well.

            Of course, what he didn't realize was how much she already knew. He had forgotten that he had already proven himself to be a traitor to his king. She knew he would try to backstab her and she had taken precautions of her own.