uno | audio

[tumbler]

[The sound of a busy city square comes through first, with a bustling crowd muffled in the background. If you listen closely, you can hear someone... singing?]

[And he told our poor minstrel to leave or be hit, / before climbing a wall, the rude little-- oof-]

[That over with, a new voice, far less muffled and with an entirely different accent comes on the line:] Ah, if you fine citizens would indulge me so, I do wonder: what do you know of elves?

Comments

[tumbler]

If you think it best!

[proudofwhatiam]

...All right, then.

[Evy thinks this is the silliest thing she's done here so far. She switches to audio especially for it.]

Once upon a time, there was a cobbler--a shoemaker--who was very poor. Just as the last of his meager fortune dwindled away, his rent came due, and he was in despair. Having made all the shoes he could, he left his cobbler's bench and went to bed.

When he woke the next morning, he was amazed to find that somehow, in the night, a beautiful pair of shoes had been made from the last of his shoe leather. The profits from the pair were enough that the cobbler and his wife could pay their rent.

Each night, the cobbler and his wife left out more shoe leather, and each morning, they found more shoes, each more beautiful than the last. One night, the cobbler decided to hide in his workroom and wait for the mysterious visitor who crafted shoes for him. Late in the night, several elves--tiny, naked creatures with pointed ears--came and cobbled together new shoes.

In the morning, the cobbler told his wife what he'd seen. She fashioned clothing for the creatures as a thank-you for all they'd done. That night, the elves took the clothing...but among the elves, a gift of clothing means that one's obligation to another has been lifted. And so the elves never returned.

[She pauses.]

Why is it you're curious about elves, anyway?

[tumbler]

I find it suspect these elves could not buy clothes for themselves, if they were such skilled craftsmen.

'Arainai' is a Dalish surname, my dear.

[proudofwhatiam]

Perhaps they weren't allowed.

"Dalish"?

[tumbler]

And so they could not write the shoemaker some sort of note? Instead, they rent their skills with no guarantee of reimbursement. Your story paints these creatures as rather dim-witted, I would say.

[Another world without elves? He sighs.] A type of elf.

[proudofwhatiam]

[She's pretty sure she might as well just leave the audio on from here on out. So she does.]

Their goal was to be helpful, I think, not to make a profit.

I see. I'm afraid I've not heard of them before.

[tumbler]

And what is one meant to learn from this tale? I assume it is not based in truth.

The sense that I am getting, here, is that can be said for most. If not all.

[proudofwhatiam]

Of course not. Fairy stories are meant to entertain children.

But that's not the case for you.

[tumbler]

[Human children.] Do they find these particularly entertaining?

It would be rather difficult to be unawares of something you are, eh? Ha!

[proudofwhatiam]

For the most part. I enjoyed them as a child.

[Her voice is, perhaps, a bit fainter as she answers.] Yes--I suppose it would be.

[tumbler]

Are they all tales of elves?

You must keep it a secret, of course. I had wanted others to answer without knowing who they were answering to. [He said, perfectly aware of the fact that this comment thread was unlocked and public.]

[proudofwhatiam]

No--there were stories about all kinds of magic.

Your secret's safe with me. [For whatever that's worth--Evy's noticed the same thing.]

[tumbler]

And I suppose it is safe, then, to assume yours is one of those unfortunate sorts I have heard of that lacks elves of any kind, Dalish or otherwise.

Gratzia, bella.

[proudofwhatiam]

If we have elves, I haven't met them.

...My name is Evelyn Carnahan. I prefer it to 'bella.'

[tumbler]

Have you checked in the local shoe store?

Ah, apologies. Manners are different here than from my home.

[proudofwhatiam]

[That gets a laugh out of her.] Perhaps I will, next time I'm there.

It's all right. And what do you prefer to be called?

[tumbler]

I should hope, if you do find them in such a place, you will leave a tip.

Well, as I have already given you my surname already, I will use my first name. Zevran, or Zev, if you prefer.

[proudofwhatiam]

I suppose that would depend on whether I bought any shoes.

How do you do?

[tumbler]

Oh? Do you often hang around cobbler's houses for the fun of it?

Quite well, in fact! And you?

[proudofwhatiam]

Not commonly. But perhaps none of the shoes fit.

All right, I suppose.

[tumbler]

Then it would surely not house the mystical elves of your tale.

And how long have you graced our fair city, eh?

[proudofwhatiam]

I suppose not.

Not long. Are you new as well?

[tumbler]

Very new indeed! Only just arrived before the festivities. A grand welcome, I think.

[proudofwhatiam]

We arrived at the same time. [Which endears him a little more, admittedly.] Rather nice way to get settled in.

[tumbler]

I thought so! There should be more festivals in general, I think.