Landing on the state-sponsored wharf, Duncan let out a deep breath, before retching one more time on the port floor. "Sir, I know you may have a serious case of sea-sickness, but for the love of Titania, could you please do it on the vomit pots over there!?"
Just as he was about to wipe his mouth, a high-pitched voice complained from behind him. "Oi, if you wanna barf, do it over there. The ceramic pots for sea sickness are fitted to the side, near the edges of the wharf. If you barf, you'll ruin our beautiful, pristine floors."
Screaming at the top of her lungs, the short, petite Elf berated Duncan, who was busy wiping his from his mouth the remnants of the thrown-up food. Now clear-headed, he focused his gaze back upon the Elf. Oh crap, it's these guys again...
Wearing a dark blue uniform with light blue checkers, she stood aground with a notepad in one hand, and a rough wooden branch sparking on the other. On her chest was a logo of a tall tree atop a large port.
Oh great, these bureaucratic cunts. The Port Management Officers...
"Urgh, fine then. I know how you lot work, so give me a mop, and I'll clean them up. Goddess, how stuck-up are you lot..."
At the final statement, the lady snapped, her face bright red. "Oh yeah, unlike some traitor of an Elf, at least I care for myself and the environment! Goddess, how uncouth..."
She stormed off, pissed beyond recognition.
Scratching his head, Duncan sighed as she finally left. "This's why I left Folicia. These stuck-up folks are hell-bent on 'preserving tradition'...
Preservation my ass!"
Spitting on the floor, he turns to Titus, who's still covered, from head to toe, in his ridiculously large cloak. "Hey old man, I just wanna ask: why're you still wearing the cloak? I mean, nobody nowadays knows what Orcs look like, and even if they do see you, most of them will think that you're just an oversized human with Giant genes mixed in. Also, this makes us look shifty as hell..."
Pulling his cloak tighter, Titus glared back at the young Elf. "Well, kid, I'd be happy to, but unless I'm mistaken in that you have the brains of a Golden Smoocher, I'm pretty sure that Elves live for a long time. Like, 1000years long. I'm pretty sure they still remember me..."
Hearing the last sentence made Duncan (although not as surprised) more curious than ever.
Okay, I thought he was only somewhat linked to the Empire of Sin, but how are the Elves linked here...
Before he could say anything, Titus quickly grabbed ahold of Duncan. "C'mon, let's go kid, we need to reach our destination as quickly as we can, otherwise we'd open a whole new can of worms that I'd like to keep closed..."
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As they were quickly walking down the port, they failed to realise that a pair of eyes were watching over them. Just as they disappeared towards the horizon, the figure chants something in a low voice, before a small bird is summoned near them. Picking it up, it hurriedly handed a note to the bird before sending it off.
As the bird flies away, it quietly slides back into the shadows, waiting for its next instructions...