[b]"Nariah."[/b]  She replied to the shapely lad next to her.  [b]"Of the clan Stormblade.  I hail from the north in the Dunenmer peaks.  That enough for ye, lad?"[/b]  A bit matter of factly she said before calling for another fill of mead, but then chuckled lightly with a small smile.  Through the door she heard another enter, but twas not by sight she recognized who this other fellow was, but rather by...his unmistakable scent.  Suspiciously Nariah sniffed of the air, her smile fading, her nostrils flaring and her eyes narrowing as she caught the stagnant odor of...what else?  [b]"By Tha'agorn."[/b]  She muttered crossing her arms and glowering at the man who approached their table.  [b]"I'd recognize that scent anywhere.  What do ye want pointy ears?  Come to save the world, yah?  I thought ye damn elves were too busy enslaving it for the past thirty moons?  Hmph!  Typical of ye to be so high and mighty."[/b]  A bit cold, as cold as the chilling winds of Icy Auriem, but when did elves ever deserve sympathy, especially from the proud Dunenmer?