A Notice at the Dragon

a shapely and extremely petite young woman, tastefully well-dressed despite the small pack on her back, enters the sleeping dragon and walks purposefully over to the notice board. deftly rummaging through a small embroidered sack, she produces a sheet of parchment, a tack, and then a hammer -- the latter very obviously much bigger than the bag itself. stretching her little arms up as far as she can, she places the tack against the parchment and gives it a single, sound '*thwack!*', nailing it securely to the notice board, much to the amused surprise of the two men sitting together chatting over drinks near the bar. she then replaces the hammer in her bag, turns on her heel and walks out into the vale, a slight spring in her gait.

the announcement, written in a smooth, flowing hand, reads:

enthusiastic learner seeks language lessons -- elvish and dwarvish. reasonable rates paid. please leave contact details at the bar.
~pin

a few days later, the same tiny young lady marches into the inn, a bit disheveled from her latest exploits, but otherwise self-assured. a broad grin spreads across her face when the barmaid tells her the news. 'hooray! i get to visit grace!' the little gnome traipses happily out the door, her mind overflowing with visions of the precocious genius she had met, and the palatial mansion that is her home -- then stops suddenly as a new thought emerges. 'oh! i do hope she doesn't incinerate me like she did last time...'

pin was waiting in the anteroom of yet another palatial mansion, belonging to yet another very important mage. she had looked out the window several times in the hour or so she'd been waiting, and had counted every single cow and goat in campton that had gone past. she began bumping her heels, childlike, against the base of the plush bench on which she was sitting, and let her mind wander. she was looking forward to paying a call on her friend grace this coming weekend, allowing that she didn't die of boredom first. 'i do hope she'll be in, and not off incinerating people,' she thought. 'that way i can thank her properly for letting me use her library and dueling chamber to learn those new spells i just figured out. oh! and i can show her this new cloak i found! funny how i keep coming up with these things. oh well, i'm sure she'll be able to sort me out. she is exceedingly good with cloaks!' and with that, she looked out the window again. the same dappled brown and white cow passed by for the 4th time in the last hour. she perched her chin on her hands and began to contemplate the myriad patterns made from the tiny cracks in the ceiling, high above her head.

titus wrote:

enthusiastic learner seeks language lessons -- elvish and dwarvish. reasonable rates paid. please leave contact details at the bar.
~pin

Ramana found the old note on the bulletin board, and left a note for her new acquaintance.

Ramana wrote:
If you still need a tutor for Elven, I could probably oblige. I also have a book I could give you about it.

I also have a book on Dwarven which I could give you, as I don't intend to ever learn to speak it. I get along just fine with my helm of understanding languages. (Why anyone would want to actually speak such a crude graceless language is beyond my comprehension.)

Regards,
Ramana

ramana's keen senses woke her even before the thing made the noise, which sounded a bit like a clearing of the throat. in one fluid motion, she vaulted out of bed, grabbed up her sword and swung in the darkness, cutting a swath across the space where the noise had come.

'eeek! no kill merath! no kill merath! merath bring message! aiaiiiiii!' a terrified little voice squealed at her from the darkness. quickly, ramana uncovered the lightstone on the dresser, painting the room with a pale yellow glow. a small, frightened, and very orange little man with wings was hovering in the middle of the room.

'speak quickly, imp! or those will be your last words!'

the fear on the little man's face vanished, replaced by a look of hurt indignation. 'merath not imp! merath mephit! and merath bring message to ramana!'

'how do you know my name?' ramana aked suspiciously.

'mistress! mistress tell merath, of course!' the thing replied derisively. 'mistress tell merath evvvvrything!'

'and who is your mistress?'

'pinnnn!' declared the quirky little man, smiling hugely and performing a pirouette in mid-air.

ramana relaxed. 'ok... pin. so... what message is so important that it's worth interrupting a girl's beauty sleep over?'

'mistress say,' at which point merath cleared his throat, as though about to give a recitation, '"dear ramana, i send you my fusi... my effu...'. at this point the mephit scratched the back of his head and mumbled something that sounded like, 'mistresswords,alwayswords!bah!' before relaunching into his recitation. '"...my MANY thanks for your kind offer to teach me the wonderful tongue of your people. even though i have a fair understanding of it already, i am always on the lookout for ways to improve. let us discuss the finer points of elven deck luncheon over a glass of refreshment sometime soon!"'

'elven deck luncheon?', ramana puzzled, then chuckled. 'very well. tell your mistress we'll get together soon. now, please, go away.' she replaced her sword against the wall next to the headboard, eager to get back to the bed which she found wonderfully soft, for all that it was in the middle of an orc encampment.

the continued flapping of the mephit's wings made it clear to her he wasn't leaving. keeping her irritation under control, she turned over in bed and faced the mephit once more. 'yes?'

'ramana has cookies?? merath liiike cookies! mistress always have cookies! ...and root beer!'

ramana arched a brow before replying dismissively, 'sorry. not in my rations. try the orcs.' she then turned over in the bed once again, luxuriating in the feel of the eiderdown pillows and letting them transport her far away from acrobatics, from orcs, and from well-intentioned but annoying little mephits.