The inn Turwyn had chosen did indeed provide a wonderful meal of basted lamb with some root vegetables Gild had never even heard of. After the meal, they had each gone to the bathhouse and enjoyed a hot soak before retiring to the respective rooms.

“I have made progress on our mission, Delvios.”

A small summoning circle stood in the center of Gild’s room. Within the circle, a shimmering image of the demon Gild had pacted with head floated, made of smoke and fiery light. The demon said nothing so Gild continued.

“I have the identity of who has the soulstone and will find them shortly, bringing back your brother's essence to you.”

“That's it?” The demon asked, sharp fangs poking through his frown. “You’ve been looking for this stone for over two years and you’ve just discovered someone who might have the damned thing? When we pacted and I tasked you with this I expected a faster turnaround!”

“You must understand that it is very difficult to locate such an item on the Mortal Realm without attracting too much unwanted attention to yourself. Anyone asking about any sort of demon artifact is quickly hunted and taken by the Demon Hunters.”

“Excuses are all I ever hear from you, Gild. When we pacted I gave you access to my magic and an expanded mana pool to perform magic to your heart's desire. In return all I asked for is for you to find my brother's soulstone and return it to me. Perhaps I have placed my faith in the wrong person for this job.”

“As if you could find anyone else willing to do this for you! You may be a Greater Demon but warlocks are in short supply due to the purges. You have no idea what it is like here and are damned lucky to have me doing this for you, not the other way around.”

“Such insolence!” Delvios spat as Tik poked Gild. Gild pushed his imp away and focused back on Delvios who was still speaking. “For that, I am taking some of your mana pool away.”

“How am I supposed to get this done faster if you are just going to cripple me?” Tik poked him again, a little harder, and Gild pushed the imp away a bit more forcefully.

“That sounds like a problem for you to figure out, doesn't it?”

Gild was about to retort something witty and cutting back as the demon snapped his fingers. Fire shot through his veins, burrowing from his fingertips along his arms and into his chest. From there it spread rapidly, flaring out into every part of his body. He tried to cry out but no sounds came. Delvios watched without a hint of emotion as Gild collapsed to the floor.

“I trust this little warning will be sufficient motivation to get the damn job done. I don't want to hear about any more setbacks or excuses. Got that?” With another snap of his fingers the pain was gone, leaving Gild panting on the floor of the inn, feeling somewhat more hollow. He gave the demon a small wave to show he had heard and the channeling ended. Tik resumed poking at Gild as he lay there.

“What?” Gild managed to hiss through heavy breaths.

“Someone else is in the paladin’s room,” the imp whispered.

“Good for him,” Gild said, managing to sit up and grimacing. “I’ve always said paladins and clerics need to get laid more. Maybe it would make them a bit less uptight about everyone else doing things their own way.”

“I don’t think it's a midnight liaison. It sounded like the other person came in through the window.”

“So what?”

“The rooms are connected,” the imp pointed towards the sliding door that provided a barrier between the two rooms. “If it's a thief or something worse, we could be next.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Gild groaned and stood up. He hated having his mana pool reduced. It was always painful, though he had a strong suspicion it didn't have to be, the demon just made it that way. It didn't particularly feel good expanding, so why should it hurt leaving? “Let's get ready in case it is something worse. It wouldn't be the first time we’ve been accosted in the night.”

Gild went to the door as quickly as he could and began laying cantrips. He mumbled the spells to himself as he drew a specific set of patterns . An airy semi visible cloud of blue mana flowed from his fingertips as he drew. As soon as he finished the cantrips and gave it a quick one over for accuracy, the glowing patterns faded, leaving no visible sign of what he had done.

“Come on,” he whispered to Tik as he unlocked the sliding door on his side. They both scurried to the closet and stepped inside, leaving it open just enough to watch the room. They only had to wait a few moments before a soft click sound as the intruder unlocked the barrier from the paladin's room and slid the door open silently.

A figure crept into the room, sliding the door shut behind it and triggering the cantrips. Gild did not activate them yet, though. He was quite proud of his trap cantrips. They would be activated by passing over them and effectively stick to whoever activated them, but would only fully activate when Gild gave them the go ahead.

The two watched as the figure slipped into the room. It didn't look very threatening, in fact, it looked almost shadowy or incorporeal. It wasn't very large, the size of a small man maybe, and seemed to shift and shimmer, almost like the edges were fading in and out of eyesight. The town is on a nexus of different Realms, so Gild contented himself with watching what this mysterious figure would do just a bit longer. Never turn down an opportunity to learn something you didn't know before, as his mother always told him.

The figure worked its way slowly through his room. The first place it stopped was at his bed. It didn't do anything threatening toward the bed, but seemed to untense a little upon seeing it was empty. Next, it went to the desk and shuffled through some of his papers and alchemical items. Gild heard the figure muttering and only caught the word mage out of its quiet rant. He smiled smugly to himself. He was good at playing the part of a mage, even a thief in the night thought he was one.

It was then he noticed the thief making towards his pack. Hazy hands shot toward the pack and started to pull it open before he could react. With a startled yelp, Gild activated the cantrips and leapt from the closet.

There was a large crashing sound as the figure spun, knocking over the chair the pack was set on. Ropes of red and black smoke sprung from the air around the thief and wound their way swiftly around the figure, binding their legs together and their arms to their sides. Continuing up the thief's body, the ropes wound their way around its head, gagging where Gild presumed a mouth would be. Even in the struggle and looking at the figure more directly, he couldn't quite pinpoint their exact shape and size, almost as if he was watching them from the corner of his eye only. The smell of burning oil and burnt hair permeated through the room from the robes.

The thief struggled and tried to cry out, though it only came out as a muffled cry.

“Ah, don't do that,” Gild warned. “You’ll only make them tighter if you struggle. The faster and harder you struggle, the more they’ll tighten until eventually…”

He let his voice drop off as the figure slowed down their struggles.

Gild stepped forward to his desk and lit the gas lamp with a snap of his fingers. “Also, lose whatever you are doing to make yourself difficult to see.”

Nothing happened so Gild gave a small nod and the ropes started to tighten some more. He stopped them as the figure started to become more significant. As the lamplight flickered and illuminated them the figure came into view.

It was an elf, easily recognizable by the leaf shaped ears. More surprising was the fact this elf had light blue skin with purple freckle-like markings all over her. He could see them on her face, ears, and hands. He guessed that the freckles would cover every inch of her body if she wasn't so covered.

“How very interesting,” he said to himself.

A loud crash came from Gild’s left and the sliding door separating the two rooms exploded apart. Turwyn burst through the opening, holding his massive axe and glaring around the room. His eyes landed on the elf being held suspended in the air and bound by smoking ropes. He gave a shout and started to advance toward her, causing her to renew her struggles.

“Hold on Turwyn!” Gild hopped to intercept the paladin. He turned toward the elf as he got in the paladins path, “And stop struggling. I already told you that.”

She managed to stop struggling and glared at the two men with enough ferocity that Gild was impressed. He had a hard time imagining himself summoning enough moxy to give death glares to his captors in her position.

“I heard a shout and some crashing,” Turwyn said, looking between the elf and Gild. “The door was locked so I came in to make sure no one was harming you.”

“And what about me?” Tik asked, stepping out from the closet.

“Well, you as well. I think,” Turwyn looked momentarily confused. “But can’t you just get resummoned if you are hurt?”

Gild gave him a quick shake of his head, trying to stop this line of reasoning. He noticed the elf’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the demon.

“No, my unfortunately mangled familiar cannot be resummoned. It would constitute creating an entirely new familiar, and though the personality may be the same at first glance, it would be an entirely new being.”

“My apologies little one,” Turwyn bowed down to Tik, prompting an eye roll from Gild at the imp‘s beaming smile. “I will always make sure your protection is included as much as Gildy’s.”

The massive man straightened up and turned to glare at the thief. “Now what do we have here, and more importantly, what are we going to do with her? Midnight break-ins are hardly a virtuous and good thing to partake in.”

The elf mumbled something behind her gag, but it only came out as muffled noises.

“What we have here is a Star Elf,” Gild said.

“Like the one that you pissed off outside?” Turwyn asked.

“Sort of. I told you about the Moon Elves. The Star Elves are the third form of elf and are at the very bottom of the hierarchy. While the Sun Elves sit at the top and the occasional Moon can even rise to that level, but mainly live in a comfortable middle class setting, Star Elves are considered lower than trash. They are the absolute bottom, with slaves of other species given more rights than them.”

Turwyn stared at Gild, his mouth slightly agape. “Why? What did they do?”

“To be blunt, they hatched under the wrong celestial sign.”

“Uh,” Turwyn said, even more confused, “hatched?”

“Elves essentially hatch from pods, and whatever celestial body they hatch under determines their life status.”

“That's barbaric!”

Gild shrugged, “I never said it wasn't. Not my people, not my problem though.”

“Well,” Turwyn said, turning back to the elf, “What is she doing here? What should we do with her?”

“We can answer that first question fairly easily, and I think the answer to that question will determine what we do with her.”

“How do we find out?”

“Simple,” Gild said, squaring himself and pulling on his mana reservoir. “We ask her.”