"Well met, Andreas.  You are correct; I am Aenor."  The elf inclined his head in greeting.  "I shall keep that in mind, thank you."  He didn't care about Andreas's heritage; only the dark elves gained his scorn.

Crossing her legs, Sithra closed her eyes and tried to meditate.  It was a trick she had learned from another drow, long ago; if done properly, it could speed up her magic's regeneration.