Chapitre 9: City of Dark Elves & Delicacies [1/2]
It's been two days since I comforted Kiera around the campfire, and despite all that happened, she's begun to open up and wear a smiling face again. As for her personality… Well, perhaps I encouraged her a little too much. With the clumsy, innocent personality she revealed and her zealous pursuit of knighthood, it's enough to make anyone think she has a few screws loose. But, you know what? That's endearing too.
The cold morning air washed over my skin as the sunlight filtered in through the slits of the tent, and the sound of snoring broke the silence beside me. My eyes moved across the sleeping form of Kiera, before coming to rest on the neon-colored plumage of a certain birdbrain behind me, a feathered head poking underneath the tent and resting between our bedrolls. A wry smile came across my face as I stretched out a hand to tousle Chiia's head, rousing the giant bird from her slumber with a dissatisfied squawk.
"Pshh… Chiia… Your snoring is gonna wake Kiera up…"
"...Ku! Kuuu~uuuu?"
She looks at me accusingly as we lock eyes, only the snoring didn't stop, and the two of us slowly shift our gaze down to the drooling face of Kiera as another snore wracks the tent. I throw Chiia a guilty look as I climb out of the tent, and she waits until the flaps close again to accusingly nibble on my shoulder.
"Okay, okay, my bad… I swear, you might be a three meter tall bird, but you're still more ladylike than that crazy knight wannabe"
"Kuuu~~~!"
She swaggers around a little after that, shaking her tail contentedly as we walk over to the smoldering campfire. We're set up on the edge of a cliff, and a city in the distance casts long shadows in the throes of sunrise. According to the maps I saw, that should be the Dark Elf city Muellimer-- although I say "Dark Elf city", I've heard it's actually quite diverse for the towns around here, with town administration in the hands of the Dark Elf Matriarch Remiise while the population itself has a majority of Humans.
As I absentmindedly cook breakfast and gaze over the city before me, the snoring stops, and a muffled crash followed by a scream comes from behind me as our tent collapses. I glance over at the puzzled Cockatrice beside me and smile wryly:
"Goodmorning, Kiera…"
...
The grey-black walls stand before me, far more imposing than I could have ever guessed in the distance, rising twenty or thirty feet up and wreathed in thorned, purple vines. I can see the occasional guard marching among the crenulations above, staring with rapt curiosity at the scene occurring below them.
Can I blame them?
No.
After all, I suppose it's not every day that a man with the poise of a young noble comes riding into town atop a giant dragon-tailed rainbow chicken. Or, said dragon-chicken starts munching away at the highly poisonous, thorny vines covering the wall without a care in the world whilst a church acolyte falls off her white horse, laughing hysterically. So much for keeping a low profile…
After the Human guards finally stop making a fuss, a couple of Dark Elves rush forward and start interrogating us. In line with their matriarchal society, the two of them are women, and after understanding the situation they seem more amused than upset. They still demand reparations, of course, but offer me the alternative of "personally aiding the guards" in the stead of gold. At night. In their barracks. Although their form-fitting splint armor is certainly enticing, the Carlton's boy has enough memories of their… preferences that I know to wisely decline.
....
We're finally inside, and it only took four turns at groveling, two instances of excessive pocket-greasing, and one overbearing promise to meet with the Matriarch tomorrow so we can "aid the city in reparation". In a word? Troublesome.
"Del, how are you not worried?! This Matriarch woman is really scary, I hear… I hear she eats… men"
"Kiera… I don't know how to tell you this, but… I think they mean 'eat' in a different sense of the word…"
She tilts her head and gives me a puzzled stare, to the point that I can't bare to ruin her innocence on the matter.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone