“Blimey, look at him! I know necromancers are supposed to be pale, but he’s practically see-through!”
After several hours of haggling for lodgings, bartering for supplies and general running of errands, Oddleigh had slumped onto a log next to Halfinch, the Hobbit thief that his master had secured the services of.
Halfinch had taken a shine to the apprentice, much to his annoyance, for the Hobbit talked incessantly. And now, having finally exhausted his large repertoire of stories, personal anecdotes and general wittering, he contented himself with providing a running, and rather uncomplimentary, commentary about the throng as they passed by.
“Hah! Look at that old hag, giving him what-for! They’ve been scrapping over the same treasure, you mark my words.”
Oddleigh sighed, but did not reply – something that Halfinch either failed to notice, or simply didn’t care about.
“Oh, and who’s this? Ugh, an Elf! I hate Elves – poncy, pointy eared pansies!”
Oddleigh observed the Elf striding past. He had seen many Eleves before – the College of Magicke at Ulfenhalle was prestigious enough to attract some students from among their ranks, but this one was different. No fey and aloof magic user here, but a sinuous and feral creature from deep within the forested heart of the Faewold.
“…ooh, look at me, I’m a poncy Elf with long poncy hair!”
“Er, perhaps you’d better keep your voice down – Elves have extremely good hearing…”
“Huh, I’m surprised the big Jessie can hear anything with that women’s hairst-“
The Hobbit stopped, red faced, as the Elf froze in his tracks and with a snarl, dropped his staff and notched an arrow in his bow in one fluid movement.
Oddleigh scrambled behind the log, desperately trying to remember the elemental shield spell he’d half-learned back in some stuffy classroom.
“Greysleaves – come! Our employer awaits us!”
A heavily armoured warrior – a templar by the look of his enormous battle-hammer, called the angry Elf, who bared his teeth before reluctantly lowering his bow and joining his companion.
Oddleigh climbed back onto the log, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Shame,” muttered the Hobbit after a few seconds of silence, “I could’ve taken him you know...”
Two more hirelings at the higher end of the price list - an Elf Tracker (Reaper Bones Elf ranger with replacement hands to give him the requisite weapons) and a Templar (Reaper Bones once again).