Well, that went well, Alex thought as he passed through the town’s poor excuse for a gate. Then again, he had kinda been spoiled when it came to walls, with most of the ones he’d been around being well over a kilometre tall.

Other than that, Alex was quite happy with the way things were going. As far as he could tell, the elf girl had pulled rank on the poor guards… or at least, it seemed like it - he couldn't really tell what was going on because of the language barrier.

Looking over at the translator icon at the right of his HUD, he was pleased once more. Apparently, the language these elves used was similar enough to English, even taking a lot of its structuring.

If he were to take the computer's word for it, he would have a full translation of elvish in around two days. But even mute, he would attempt to interact with his new companion…for better or for worse.

Continuing to follow his impromptu guide, Alex was not unaware of the dozens of people talking about him. Even with the language barrier, it wasn't exactly hard to miss the blatant staring and audible whispers.

“Dat’el gattok ba da keksi grouder kloter U jol iva vaak…” What looked to be a highly drunk elf slurred, his mug of what Alex assumed was alcohol spilling as he swayed. However, it wasn't long before he was seemingly chastised by what seemed to be his identical twin.

“Opa de klor vu, yourak wa’ke grut! Itu lor forken kova!”

The language was odd to say the least - sounding like a bunch of different languages squished together. But then again, so was English.

Alex was just hoping his throat could make those noises once he downloaded the translation onto his implant.

Continuing his walk through the town’s cobbled roads, Alex felt his auburn-haired comrade tap on his helmet lightly, trying to get his attention.

Looking to his right, he saw her leaning over his shoulder smiling brightly at him, her face still bloodied and dirtied. “Evor tolak dat yalek b’rush, favan,” she said, whilst pointing towards one of the larger buildings in the area.

What is that? A tavern? A guildhall? Alex was both frustrated and intrigued by his lack of knowledge on everything.

—

Feyrith prided herself in her ability to overcome hardships on her own - a trait she had picked up from her father. Reaching silver rank was no common feat after all, especially out here in the far west.

She had always told herself she could work alone, and up till now she had. But of course, life would always fire curving mana-balls. The one time she joined a party just had to be the day everything went to shit.

It didn’t help that her ‘teammates’ had been a bunch of sketchy bronze ranks. While she felt no hate or superiority towards lower ranks, some people down there just loved to throw their weight around - getting drunk on their own power.

If only the reward money hadn't been so good, she’d have been somewhere else when that astray wyvern had been aggravated by the road runes. But then again, she wouldn't have met the anomaly that had so kindly carried and cared for her this whole way.

Thinking about carrying, I should probably get off now, otherwise, I won’t look very intimidating when I yell at those imbeciles for running. Not only did they leave a guild member behind, but a superior rank as well. Add to the fact they seemed to do so without a second thought? Yeah, they’re going to get an ear full, Feyrith thought.

Once again tapping the large man's helmet, a gesture he thankfully didn't seem offended by, Feyrith motioned for him to put her down, and without further attempted communication, he slowly brought her to the ground.

Saying a quick thank you, hoping he at least half-understood, Feyrith turned towards the Guildhalls main door. Scrunching her happy and grateful smile into one of pure rage, forced but not fake mind you, she stormed towards the offending entrance.

—

“And there I was, my buddies and I back to back to back, a group of Ravager Wolfs surrounding us!” Yoltek cried, tears streaming down his face.

“We all thought we would surely die… and if not for Feyrith willingly sacrificing herself for our sake, we surely would’ve. Taking the surviving horses, we fled, looking back only to see her give us a wave of farewell… ‘sob’ she will surely be mis-”

BLAM!

The sound of destruction reverberated around the building, the now unhinged front door sliding across the room, stopping just short of Yolteks feet. His face paled as he saw who walked through the entrance, a behemoth of a being standing behind her. “...oh bollocks,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving her blood-caked face.

“Yoltek! You and your filthy underlings better get here right now!” Feyrith shouted before looking around, her eyes quickly locking onto the named offender. “There you are, you slimy git! You left me to die… and what's this? Telling fibs? Spreading a convenient lie?!” She screamed as flecks of blood left her mouth, the towering dark figure cracking his knuckles behind her, having had to duck under the entrance.

“I should have known you would try and find a way to get rid of me, you coward! And for what? To get to the top of the leaderboard, or for whatever another dumb reason you would find justifies such bullshit!” With a final aggravated sigh, she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

With shaky movements, she turned around, coming face to face with the guild-master. “Yoltek,” he said, authority prevalent in his voice, “ My office… now.” With that final comment, the normally soft-spoken elf walked across the guildhall and upstairs. Yoltek meekly followed, his tanned skin looking sickly pale.

—

Damn, I knew she had some fight in her… but that level of fury was unexpected. I didn’t understand a single word of what she said, but the meaning still definitely got through. Alex thought, having added the knuckle-cracking to build on the effect of her rant.

Now standing in the building, he had begun to realize how short these elves truly were. At first, he thought it was just the minority but quickly realized they all just seemed to be short.

Well, it's not like I don't know human subspecies to be the same height, Alex thought, chuckling lightly.

Looking back at the little elf, he noticed her kind demeanour having returned as she beckoned him over, her former rage gone in but a second. Scary…

Wandering over to her, Alex took a seat at the table next to her. Well, I wasn't wrong - it seems to be both a guildhall and a tavern, he thought. Dozens of dumbstruck eyes looked their way, and he wasn’t sure if it was aimed at him or the elf - probably both of them.

Thankfully, that was quickly fixed by a few words from the woman herself, “Rolta wes fel’grat…” She drawled, and everyone turned away.

—

As the angel sat down opposite her, Feyrith called over for a waitress. The young woman came over with a spring in her step, seemingly enjoying her job.

“What would you like to have?” She questioned, doing her best to ignore the dried blood and grime that covered her customer.

“I'll have… the rabbit stew if that's alright?” Feyrith asked pleasantly, before quickly turning to her silent protector. She made one hand into a bowl shape and mimicked eating with a spoon, hoping it would convey her question correctly.

Seemingly understanding perfectly, he made a thumbs up, before pointing to her. So you want me to choose… fair enough. She thought, before turning back to the waitress “He’ll have the same.”

“…right.” The waiter mumbled, thrown off by the silent conversation. But as a professional, she quickly got back into character, smiled, nodded, and left.

—

At this point, Feyrith was starving, but she still had the courtesy to wait for their meals… unlike some people, she thought as she looked over to a rowdy adventurer party. So far she had been able to distract herself by watching her only company, as he seemed to methodically search the room for threats.

But before she could continue contemplating him, the waitress finally arrived, a bowl of stew in each hand. Smiling politely, the green-eyed waitress set down the wooden bowls upon the table, thanking them for their patience before she left.

Feyrith began to dig into her meal, only to stop halfway through putting the spoon in her mouth as she looked up. Sure, she was starving, but it would be a cold day in Owlinguard before she missed her first chance to see her saviour's face.

With an odd hiss, the angel slowly began lifting his helmet off his head… only to stop just before his nose, the man seemingly satisfied with its position.

Feyrith on the other hand had her mouth agape, unable to even bring her spoonful of stew to her mouth.

By Grendors hairy bollocks he's pale… that's…that’s not normal. He can’t be a snow elf, he's just too big… it-it-it just-mmmmm! She was more confused than ever now. The others around her seemed to hold similar sentiments, doing double takes and whispering to each other. Her strange saviour simply began to eat, not a care in the world.