Impish Ways

Eliara flew out through the tavern door into the glaring sunlight.

"I shall never get used the brightness here I think". she thought as she shaded her eyes. "Now, to find a good tailor who has some decent taste in color and style. I really must get some new clothing. Something in a nice orange and purple maybe, or possibly burgundy and teal, that would be nice."

She flitted around until she found the tailors' stalls where she landed next to some fine fabrics and started shuffling through them.

"No...no...hmm maybe, excuse me! Do you have any purple or teal fabrics and can you make a proper shirt?"

After 30 minutes of getting measurements, choosing color and patterns and haggling price, Eliara finally leaves the stall to return on the morrow for her new clothes. Her next stop, an armory for a new dagger and then to find a little "employment" to pay for these new items.

After visiting with a suitable arms dealer, Eliara fluttered her way to the area where she heard rumored the entrance to the "Thieves Den" would be. The alley behind the stables was dark and quiet except for the sound of an occasional horse stamping it's displeasure.

"Now where, oh where could that hole in the ground be..." she muttered to herself.

As luck would have it, she heard a small creaking sound a little ways in front of her. She dashed into the shadows of a nook in the wall and waited. Not long had passed when a short humanoid in a dark cloak slunk past her.

"I see..." she thought, "so that's the spot."

She crept along the ground, wings folded behind her, and went to where she thought the person had emerged from. The stone pavement was cool under her bare feet. She stood still and let the breeze waft past her ears as she listened closely for any sound which would help her find the entrance. Just as she heard the creaking sound again she was pushed up into the air. The surprise knocked her off the pavement stone landing right in front of the entrance of the Den with a grunt. Within moments a hand reached out and grabbing her about the ankle pulled her into the dark entrance. She watched as the little bit of light disappeared as she grabbed for the entrance ledge.

“Naakhu-bo! Naakhu-bo!” (Hands off! Hands off!) she shouted in her native tongue.

The hand let go, but she knew they were still close and there was no where for her to run. It was pitch black but she could hear at least two people rustling about, including one very close in front of her. There was a flicking sound and a spark flew a few feet in front of her. Then a small lamp took light. She was on the floor against the wall of a small tunnel leading off in three directions. Directly in front of her was a human male and he held a knife, ready to end her little life.

“Password.” The person further back, a dwarf holding the lamp, growled at her.

“Think,” she thought to herself. “what did he tell me...that’s it!”

The man with the dagger leaned toward her as she exclaimed, “Thauk-ishi bûrz”

The dwarf laughed. “Duurf-lat, imp. Pukhl-izg gashnum snaga-ob.” (You are lucky, imp. I speak the imp dialect.) To the man holding the knife he said, “S’alright, she passes.” The man took his knife away with a look of disappointment. “Pukhl-lat shara, imp. (Speak human imp.)”

Eliara took a deep breath and slowly released it. Then she stood up. “That wasn’t very nice. I was coming down anyway!”

The dwarf laughed heartily. “You have spunk little imp, I like that. But you better watch yourself in these tunnels. Not many like an upstart.” He turns to the human who is paring his nails with his dagger. “Stay here while I take the imp to the Samryn Calass. He’ll decide what to do with you.” He said turning back to Eliara. “Now come along little imp.”

He pointed down one of the tunnels and said, “After you.” She humphed and glared at him a second. Taking another deep breath, she started walking down the tunnel trying not to get too far from the narrow beam of light coming from his lamp. Eliara followed the dwarf's directions through the tunnels, up and down ladders and over plank bridges that stretched across rivers of sewage. She occasionally saw a figure or two walking along the tunnels but no one stopped them and the dwarf just continued on.

"So who is this Samryn Calass anyway? He the leader down here?"

"Of course."

Most of the questions that Eliara asked him were answered with short statements.

"What's your name anyway?"

"Called Arglar Kuld by most down here."

With that he turned them to a small enclave where a wooden door was closed. Arglar knocked on the door in what had to be a specific pattern. A slot in the door opened and she saw an eye peek out, grunt and close the slot. The door opened before her and Arglar nudged her in.

"What have you brought me today Arglar?" said a cloaked figure sitting in a chair behind a small table. The door closed behind her and the dwarf. A large cyclops stood in front of it.

Well there goes the only way out, she thought. There's no going back now.

Eliara stood defiantly near the center of the room. She thought back at what he had said so long ago.

"Stand tall Eli and never show weakness. The world is full of larger people then you who will take advantage of you and your skills unless you show them how difficult that would be."

Arglar bent low and whispered to the cloaked man. His face was hidden by the cowl. He nodded his head and then turned towards her.

"Arglar tells me that you were trying to gain access to my tunnels. This is a very daring or stupid act. What brings you here?"

"I was told that I could find work here. I was told that I should find work through the Guild or else the consequences might be deadly."

"And who tells you these things? A little bird?"

"No." she said warily. The conversation was headed into waters she did not want to re-enter. "Do you have work for me or not? I have to make some money for some new clothes I've just ordered." she added with a touch of levity.

The man in the cloak leaned forward slightly, but not enough for her to see inside his cowl. She was very curious to see what was inside.

"What is your name little imp?"

"Eliara."

"And your family name?" he said in a tone that would brook no refusal or demur.

"Vandalin," she whispered. The dwarf looked at her curiously and the cloaked man sat back in his chair.

"Would that be any relation to Hanrun Vandalin?"

"Yes." The turn of questioning disturbed her. She started to shift on her feet and curl her wing tips tightly in agitation.

**This story may have ended here. As the inspiration behind the story is no longer in existence, I may have to come up with more ideas on my own. But with so many things I'm working on, it may take some time.**

**note: impish language used is a borrowed (and probably mutilated) form of Black Speech. The original site where I found it is no longer available.