The others quieted down a little, well, everyone but the Sprites. They couldn’t understand my words, even if Selly already knew what I was talking about, they continued to chat, the queen sometimes jibing her in our mother tongue.

Joan and Strause paid attention, focusing on me and moving to face one another in my periphery, while Anna, who had sometimes gestured, pulled her arms back towards herself to let the elf pass me something around the table.

Gunther, a strange name for a girl, so strange she might as well have used Jane Doe, reached for the bottle while focusing on me to talk.

“By the trees… So you stupid and dumb looking? Listen, girl, I’m a [Merchant]. If you think you can swindle me with words, you have another thing coming. That’s in my skill set, not yours. Whatever your skill set is… What is your skill set? And why does my skill want to sell you shovels and magical foci?” Gunther said, slightly annoyed as she passed an uncorked bottle over to me.

She had to hold it by the neck, both of our arms being on the shorter end, her from height, me from being a kobold, but it got passed over with Anna’s help, which got a “thanks,” and “you're welcome,” quickly whispered.

I spoke up after I got my hands on the bottle, piecing together what I thought I should say while my intuition flipped on and off. I decided to go shrewd, most people I had met never mentioned their class, or at least not much about it.

“I dig, or well, I guess I used to dig ditches, I’m a, uh, a [Gravedigger] now, and that’s as much as I’ll tell you, miss,” I told her, ferrying the bottle in front of Anna and checking my cup to make sure it wasn’t full before pouring some for myself.

“Smart enough, at least that explains why my skill is trying to get me to sell you shovels. Though, it’s all over the place with you. Honestly. Shovels, healing potions, random seeds, wine, it’s all over the place with you, and that’s just the best deals.”

“Sounds like a good skill, but I’ll come to find you for it if I need anything, I don’t need you trying to get me to buy things. So are you going to spill on this, miss? I’m not an elf, I'm just an elf, or are you going to keep your secrets like Anna and continue being weirdly young.”

“Huh, I’m not keeping secrets,” Anna tried to lie, but in a way that was so unconvincing it almost came off as intentional until I looked over and saw her face flush and took in the smell of alcohol from her cup, and the look of, ‘oh no why did I even say that,’ plastered over her face like Strause's mask.

“It’s ok, Anna, I trust your secret keeping isn’t going to go bad. But it is kind of obvious your keeping them,” I chimed in, attempted reassurance in my voice.

I wasn’t mad or anything, Anna could keep her secrets, I wasn’t going to demand she tell me everything in her life or peel her open to juice her like a fruit for information. Even if the idea of getting her to open up a little or getting Anna juicy was appealing, forcing her would close her off for both possible paths.

The second also made my face flush, and that was before I even started drinking.

That is for after marriage, Saphine, get your head out of the gutter, it's not even that time of the year yet, you have no reason to be thinking that. I’m sure Anna would decline, anyway… we don’t know each other well enough for that kind of cuddling.

Strause cleared his voice then, drawing my eyes from Anna in time to stop me from checking her out like a creep.

“I would personally like to know about these secrets of yours, Anna. Come on, I’m your little brother, aren’t I trustworthy enough to give me something to gossip about?”

He said it almost flamboyantly, like he couldn’t believe she had an idea she hadn’t shared before.

That was a little funny, I wouldn’t lie. Strause acted like one of the girls, just short a skirt, a smock and the parts that made us different. He even put on a funny voice. Changing his O’s to A’s and talking like he had not a thought in his head. He followed it up with a series of ‘pleaz’s,’ like he was a kid trying to rattle answers out of their mom.

After a few moments, Joan slapped a hand over his mouth, “It's only funny for the first three pleases, then the voice starts to grate.”

“Mmk,” Strause muffled out before peeling her hand off his face, turning back to Anna and giving her puppy dog eyes instead.

Those didn’t vibe with the goofy grin, but how big he made his eyes look was downright uncanny.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have no secrets,” she said, blushing further.

I reached over and patted her shoulder in solidarity, and because it would make her blush even more. And blush more she did.

Anna only got cuter the redder she got, and she was already pretty cute.

She covered her face with a mug as she took a drink, and I swooped back into talking to Gunther.

“It’s not that great of a skill,” she told me, waving it off, “any [Merchant] class can get it as a capstone or from 35 onwards, I’m almost sure there's also a better version at a higher level. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have it, I can almost imagine the weight of all those… Ahem, sorry, I’m getting sidetracked, I’m not an elf, I’m a wood elf,” she said, momentarily getting an almost lewd look on her face when she talked about making money before getting herself back on track.

“No problem, you are exactly what I think of when I think merchant, only in it for the money, I can appreciate earning coin, at least in moderation. Also, that makes you look like a child how? Even Half-elves are taller, and it's not just your height. You not spindly enough, the hair colour is wrong, all the rest of it, how does that work if you're what? More elf than half-elf?” I asked her, raising my mug to my mouth and taking in the aroma.

I caught an off-flavour, a series of them, that smashed into me at the same moment I tipped the mug back, back far enough to get some on my tongue. I almost choked as I moved to sip, only managing to swallow the tiny amount I drank with a feat of constitution.

It tasted fine on my tongue, but the flavour was off, way off, and it was all in the aroma. I could smell small amounts of differing rots, the quality of the grapes, cork rot, something like vinegar, and other myriad smells that choked out any of the other notable flavours that should be in wine.

“You should, Uhh,” I cut myself off, shivering in disgust and gagging a bit, “You should get a refund on this. It's not even good for cleaning,” I told her, placing the mug down and looking into the pale yellow liquid in my cup.

It was too bad. It had just enough sweetness and sourness, and while it had a kind of ehh mouthfeel, it was otherwise okay, but the rest of it took it from a possible 6 to a 1.

Humans making wine, gods above make them learn how to make okay wine, wine for someone with a more sensitive nose.

She huffed haughtily.

“What are you? A [Wine Snob]? It’s perfectly good wine!” She groused.

“Not with a nose like mine,” I told her, “here, have your vinegar back, you got any ale over there?”

She nodded, and with a pass off and a quick walk over to the window, the poor excuse for wine was where it belonged, and I got to cleaning my cup out for some beer. The only thing left behind was my immense disappointment at the quality of the wine.

Kobolds loved our wine, Goblins did too. It was the great unifier for our two peoples. Good wine.

When I sat back down, I filled up my cup with beer from another bottle and took a sip. It was alright, but it tasted like disappointment. Strause’s grin looked a little more mirthful, and Joan was looking into her mug like she didn’t know what was in there and was making sure of what she was drinking.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

Then she shrugged and drank anyway because I could smell what they couldn’t. I alone bore the terrible curse of having a good nose.

Oh well, the beer was fine, and the bready and slightly caramel flavour was nice.

At least we shared the same sense of taste.

“So anyway, how does that make you small? Being a wood elf, that is.”

She shook her head, “First, you insulted me, you! Calling me a kid, conflating me with those… those twigs! And now you're calling my product trash. You first, you uppity brat, I’ll hear your story first, see if it rings hollow. And a warning, I will blacklist you if you’re pulling my ear, girl. Honestly, I aught to…” She started to make intelligible words barely, poutily harumphing and grumbling.

“Fine, Fine. Before Moarn was scorched to the ground, and everyone and everything in it was reduced to ash, I lived and grew up in the city, in a tiny compound. Just one person amongst many others. I've never met a wood elf before, but back then, I honestly don’t know if your people existed. They certainly never mentioned wood elves at church, but they did teach little Kobolds like me about elves,” I told her.

“So you claim to be from an ancient civilization that knew elves? A Kobold? Never heard of you before. Were you related to Goblins, maybe? They're as old as dirt too, even if they live and die like spring flys”

“Funnily enough, yes, but so are you, little miss yes, I’m an elf, but not those elves, we are both related to Goblins, though not in a direct way, but by a common ancestor. They were resilient, we were wise, and we got along like two wet cats in a bag. And yeh, I guess it would be an ancient civilization to most people, but we were a little more advanced than you. More technical classes, better roads and buildings… Windmills, and water wheels, that sort of thing. There’s a building I could show you that survived it all. It’s the only building I know of that is readily accessible in old moarn. That’s where I grew up, and that’s where I met the elf I met. I got lost as a kid and headed toward the tallest person I could find. And spotting a person as tall as a tree is a very easy feat for a child, it's all about how high you can look up and still see them, you know?”

“You sound drunk already, though you came in kind of drunk to begin with, so I suppose it's not that much of a difference.” She snorted.

“I think it has to do with using my Wisdom, regardless of my intoxication, that’s my story, I met an elf like, a long ass time ago as a kid when I got lost, and he brought me to the church I was looking for.”

“Considering your more hair than head, it must not be much wisdom, especially if you wound up like you did. And despite what you say, despite you not lying in this trade, you got one thing wrong, Wood elfs aren’t considered related to Goblins, at least according to the Goblins, were too Human for their liking, but too close to the Elves to be attacked, so the two of us just walk past one another awkwardly,” she said in a correcting tone.

“So I didn’t lie; tell your truth, why do you look like a little kid?” I asked her, finishing up my cup and filling it again.

She waved it off, “We’ve already taken up quite a lot of the space talking, don’t you think? I’m sure the others don-” She started, only to get cut off by Anna.

“I’m sure Clause and Joan wouldn’t mind a little talking, I’m certainly interested in how you differ from an elf, I’ve never seen or read much about it, I assumed elves were wood elves,” she told Gunther.

She looked around at us, taking us in shrewdly. Checking our faces and trying to read the room. Assumably to figure out if she could worm out of our deal. Maybe she had the skill to slip out of deals. I didn’t know, and she didn’t use one, Joan was on a third cup of foul wine, Clause only a second, and it reflected in the two postures.

“Fine, fine. Don’t let it be said that Gunther doesn’t hold up their end of a trade,” she venomously spat.

I nodded encouragingly, and it was for one simple reason I didn’t speak up. Joan was on three, Strause two, I was fairly sure Anna was on at least her second, and the elf, she was on her third. Her third of the conversation. She had kept slamming them down like she was at a party. I had no idea how much she had drunk, but she became grumpier and grumpier as time went on, and she was currently nose-diving.

Using every lick of Charisma I had, which was not much, I kept myself from giving her any ammunition until after she told me about wood elves.

“Wood elves have just as much in common with elves as we do half-elves. We’re what happens when the two have a whole load of babies, and then they leave them to grow up in isolation, breed true, as it were. Humans live for what, a hundred or so years? Half-elves can live up to 400 if they’re lucky, the key word being IF. And we can live a thousand IF we’re lucky. We age like a human, just ten times slower, we’re not small because we’re children; we're small because we inherited the fuckin twigs' longevity, but the frailty of human bodies and the slowed aging of half-elves. By the time I hit the elf equivalent of puberty, I’ll be worm food or better off in the dirt. If you want more, go talk to a [Archivist]. I’m not going to talk about what happens, it would just bring down the mood.”

“I would say that’s more than enough in trade; thank you, Gunther. I’ll make sure to visit your caravan if I need to buy anything. Sorry for bugging you on your drinking, I didn’t mean to push you around or bring up something sour like that.”

“Sure… sure. Speaking of, I need another drink,” and with that, the short woman reached for one of the bottles, found it empty, and found the next. She was tearing through the alcohol like the Sprites were tearing through chunks of food, half again the size of their chest.

Selly was using a knife like a ship's oar, holding the morsel down with one foot, a pose of victory as she carved pieces off for herself and her queen. Anna was thinking, contemplative thought written large on her face. Not something bad, I didn’t know. It was something else, there wasn’t anything bad coming off of her, I thought, though maybe I couldn’t smell it with the air heavy with the smell of food.

Reminded by the smell, I reached out and loaded my plate up and got to the point of a potluck, stuffing your face with a bunch of different foods with questionable compatibility. The tantalizing sauce, meat, and greens, one of the sandwiches which seemed interesting, even if it was just food in a bun, went on my plate in small servings, and I got to eating.

I decided to pay closer attention to her instead of the confusing feeling of knowing the elves were gone, too. At least they didn’t sound like they died, they were just… gone. I focused on her, taking bites of the less appetizing food as I tried to make sense of her expression, and got lost in the moment, Anna turned and started talking to Clause while I saw Gunther slam back a whole mug like it was water.

I focused on her face, the line of her jaw, and the flush on her cheeks, and just let the world go by for a little, managing to trick myself into asking questions that kept me listlessly floating at the moment.

I wondered how Anna kept her hair so clean despite sharing the same things I used to wash my own hair. Was it just that her hair was straight? How did she get that sheen to her hair? Was it a skill? Just a Human thing, maybe? Either way, she found a way to always look like she spent hours getting ready despite never doing it.

Maybe it was magic, like how she always kept the flower crown on. I was fairly sure it was somehow alive, with how vibrant the purple of the Violets always was.

Magic or skill was a funny trick keeping in on her head, even through her nocturnal acrobatics.

Anna shook me a little, “Saphine, hey, are you falling asleep?”

I jerked to conscious, though, my mind spinning back up from the inebriated food-propelled glide I had been into a series of conscious thoughts centred on what was happening.

“Hmm? No, I’m not falling asleep, just… taking in the moment, what's up? What did I miss?”

She looked at me, raising an eyebrow in a dangerous look. It took me a moment to figure out why, but I figured it out fast enough. I had been out of it, so I was either ignoring what was going on or I was lying through my teeth.

“Sorry, I’m a bit out of it is all, I kind of overused my wisdom… I think?” I looked down at the empty cup of beer and decided that I wasn’t going to have a third.

“Strause was just telling me about how the lords are getting together to do something about the necromancy,” she told me in a way that was obviously her trying to get me to lean into the conversation.

I turned to Strause and noticed Joan being a bit floppy, doodling in some water on the table.

“Anything I can do to help? There was the jade, but I couldn't help. I know where to find more of them, and I have some more cursed-looking magic stuff from today.”

Strause looked at me, and his eyes were a bit strained.

“There's more undead? Just around? Free to rampage around the valley?” He asked in a strained tone that had him looking like he just sucked on a fresh kumquat, sour, puckered lips, almost dramatically overblown in how he showed it off.

I waved it off, “the skeletons are trapped in a crypt. Do you remember that building I mentioned, the one from old moarn? It’s a church, with a graveyard, with a crypt with a bunch of undead [Monk] skeletons. I don’t think they can climb, but even if they could, there is a lid they probably can't open, and even if they got both, there is a way taller ladder they would have to find and climb. They're not that ‘smart,’ even if they do what they do without input. There are possibly undead running around, but from what I’ve seen, they're all dumb. The Gremlins I fought used tools to control them, but they were otherwise totally passive, like puppets.”

The pucker intensified, “OH? That’s… better. They are not rampaging, they are just being directed by hostile forces with greater intelligence. Noted. What's this about cursed artifacts?”

“Yep, there were rituals, too, but I broke a bunch of them. There’s a blade full of dark magic outside that I stole from an undying monstrous [Necromancer] thing that was too big to walk through the front door, who insinuated that he was weak and that he had a far more powerful mistress.”

Strause's lips pressed into a thin line, and he started to nod, “That isn’t terrifying or anything.”

“Oh, that’s just the surface of the mud, they were using souls for lighting.”

He stopped nodding, “Please stop.”

“Sure, sure. Don’t worry, Anna, I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“You’re a terrible liar; don’t worry, it’ll work out,” I told her, trying to reassure her.

“I wish everyone paid attention to the feelings of others, maybe I should move in with another woman.”

“Eh, tu Joan?”

“Don’t even, most men have an excuse, you don’t,” she told him.

And that’s how the night went. Small talk, banter, a suspiciously delicious sandwich that Strause brought. That’s how it went on until everyone decided that it was time to go home.