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"An' has she brought a gaggle o' spies with her?" (Patreon)
Content
Estvan asked.
"No," I replied. "It looked like she was alone, angry, and yelling insults."
"Sure an they do that a lot," Estvan sighed. "Best go out an see what she wants. Pook roight in front o' her. That sometimes startles 'em so they forget what they were on about."
"Oh THERE you are, you poltroon! Buffoon! Bozo! Nincompoop!" she yelled as soon as I appeared.
"What seems to be the prob-" I started.
"That elf-gold you gave me, buster!" she snarled. "It turned into twigs and leaves and bits of dirt! You cheated me, you scoundrel! Scalliwag! Councilman!"
"Ah yes, well, you see -"
"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO TURN INTO BISCUITS AND COOKIES!!" Rowan shrieked. "I handed it around the tavern, telling everyone that I was working for a magical elf, and if they waited a while, the gold would turn into biscuits and cookies. When it turned into twigs and leaves everyone laughed at me!! I've never been so humiliated in all my life!"
"Not even when you were doing shadow puppets?" I asked.
"HOW DARE YOU!!!"
"I don't know where you got your information," I stated, trying to calm the situation. "But it's always been sticks and twigs. Elf-gold never turns into biscuits and cookies, because that's .." I looked around nervously and then whispered "that's Kringle food."
"YOU'RE LYING!!" Rowan screamed. "It has always been biscuits and cookies, all of the stories say so!"
"Madam, one thing elves do not do is lie," I retorted.
"Begorrah, that's a new one on me," Estvan muttered. "Where do they get their elf lore at all at all? Sure they must sit around makin' up tales on winter nights, an then BELIEVIN' em, bedad!"
"What are you doing out here?" I asked him.
"Seems oi'm not permitted in the tower alone," he shrugged. "Before oi was ejected, oi noticed yer wee alchemy set. Sure an oi'd loike to talk to ye about that later, boyo."
"ARE YOU TWO EVEN PAYING ATTENTION??" Rowan screeched. "You've ruined my reputation! How can I ever show my face in that town again? I swear you're more trouble than the pesky rabbits!"
Two strangers poked their heads out from behind a nearby tree.
"That's her," the one in the tricorn hat observed. "The crazy femme from the tavern."
"Who's that little girl she's talking to?" the other one asked. "Do you think that's the elf?"
"HEY!" the first one shouted. "Pardon us for interrupting, but can we braid your hair for luck? It'll only take a few minutes."