"[u][i][b]GRRRRIIIIIIIBBBYYYYY!!![/b][/i][/u]" 

	An older, but muscular man-- Dwarven in stature, pale in complexion, and balding in hirsute-- burst through saloon styled doors, "Gods, [b]DAMMIT[/b] Griby!" The Dwarf huffed as he looked out into the dirt streets of the marketplace. The thinning crowd scattered about didn't seem horribly interested in his anger, by now a common public spectacle from the man for the shop goers. The woman he was yelling after had long slipped through fruit stands and codpiece store alleyways into the late fall winds of the wood. 

	The winds were always particularly harsh in the small town of Dead Dog Pines, the gale weaved through the trees that surrounded the town, and pulsed through it like evergreen veins. The young half-faun the dwarf would already be weaving through them by now-- he seemed to have developed a love/hate relationship with her over the months. In one instant, the two could work together and make more money in a night than he could ever make on his own in the old Dogwood Sap Tavern, and in another instant-- such as today-- she couldn't get a step in before the man exploded at some slight slight he'd perceived committed against him, and have her chased about.

	The Dwarf huffed at the door, squinting as he examined the late afternoon bazaar. He was just following the motions, he knew exactly how this went; he would try to detect her, but he never could-- no one else could either-- she'd be gone for days, but everyone would know she was right there, waiting for things to cool down, the horny-sprite had a blessing from the wood, and she could wait you out until she wanted to be seen, until you'd calmed down, and reassure you with her... [i]honeyed words.[/i]... She'd gone too far this time, though! And he intended on things turning out [i]quite[/i] differently for the petty thief.

	The Dwarf turned to the interior of the bar, several bored looking patrons sipped on some ale further in, and several paces behind him several short, orange Hobgoblins stood each craning their necks to get a look at where the dame had gone. His mercenaries... his guards... the man couldn't afford much, but the goblins would do. Their swords would strike true as any man, and between the four of them they even had a handful of entrapment spells... and... well...

	The Dwarf gave a ragged sigh as the four immediately skirted back to their posts in the bar as he turned around, trying to pretend as though they'd been doing their jobs instead the entire time. His [i]cousin[/i] had told him that Hobgoblins were excellent guards and trackers, [i]'like a foxhound'[/i] he had been told. He scrunched up his face at the group, the only thing they'd done like foxhounds thus far was eat a hole in his wallet [i]and[/i] his pantry. He supposed he'd soon find out if the investment had been worth it. 

	With a scowl, he yelled at the lot, "Well!? She isn't going to bring me her own damn head you imps!" The carmine half-men jumped at that, nodding in vigorous acknowledgement they all rushed for the door, their leather armor squeaked as they all pressed against each other to get out at once. The Dwarf gripped the bridge of his nose in frustration as the four struggled to leave the tavern, but eventually felt some sense of relief as the four Hobgoblins began their sweep of the town for Jeanne Griby. The bitch had gone [b][i]too far this time[/i][/b]. It was one thing to steal from his [i]customers[/i]... he profited from that! He could even stand if stolen a little from his own coffers, in fact, he was sure she had during her time in town! 

	But it was another thing [i]entirely[/i] to take his wee girl's inheritance.

	He nodded to the flamboyant Elf he had working as his bartender as he made his way back to his office. He'd been doing this for far too long to have this done to him... to just [i]let[/i] it be done to him. No... he knew she'd try some shit like this... that's why he'd gotten the extra security, after all. He knew fully she wasn't above this-- he was going to get his due though, he'd have that bitches antlers mounted on his wall soon enough...

	The Dwarf entered his office, failing to notice the door he'd left open was closed.

	As he closed the door behind him, he failed to notice that a candle had already been lit in the regularly dim room.

	As he sat at his desk, immediately checking the safe-box underneath, he failed to notice his window was open and the curtain was blowing in the breeze.

	It makes sense, then, that in his rush to ensure not a penny more had been taken from him than he'd already had stolen, he failed to notice the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrZOwY04YPs][color=white]feminine figure making a silhouette in the illuminated curtains, gently jostled by gales endemic to Dead Dog.[/color][/url] The figure seemed to dance-- or perhaps merely sneak-- from it's place behind the curtain with the grace of a ballerina. She was slight in height, but full, perhaps even a bit plump in form and figure. Her long hair was almost as a gown in a way, and the clothes she wore-- some combination of the garb of a musician and a bar-maiden, were neither flashy nor thread-bare-- one could tell that they stood because she wore them so well. She moved around to the front of the desk as the Dwarf dug at the safe underneath, her light step did little to alert the greedy little man to her presence. In the dimly illuminated room, her skin seemed to glow, her make-up, which spoke volumes of her faun heritage, and how little she truly knew of it, seemed to emanate ferocity and, somehow, at the same instance a certain gentleness.

	Sure, but honeyed words.

	After a minute of watching the man with disinterest, Jeanne Griby sat across from the unsuspecting Dwarf, alerting him to her presence by plopping down as loudly as she could manage; She greeted the man excitedly, with her characteristic otherworldly accent, "Bonjour, Chichi!" 

	Chichi shot up-- or rather, tried to-- he hit his head on the underside of his desk before cursing under his breath, and quickly trying to recover by actually shooting up, full anger flaring. "[i][b]Fuuuucking cunt! Half pixie fucking biiiiitch![/b][/i]"

	"Mmmm," Jeanne rested her head in hand, with a polite smile, "Always se master wordsmith, patron."

	"Don't give me that 'patron' shit you fucking thief! I'm going to fucking skin you alive for what you did to me!!!"

	Jeanne feigned a surprised expression, "Oh, really patron? Whyever would you do that? Am I not your best employé? Is there someone I should be working harder than?" 

	"Yeah, laugh it up bitch!" Chichi pulled out a dagger from the desk, "You may as well laugh before you die anyway!"

	Jeanne held a hand lightly to her chest, "I am to die?"

	"That's the plan, cunt-horns!"

	"Hmmm, well actually... I..." Jeanne leaned forward, whispering, "Well, quite frankly patron, I really doubt that."

	Chichi the dwarf relented, if only for a second-- his face seemed to scrunch up into an actual question mark, "Why's that, forest tits?"

	Jeanne leaned back in her chair. "I've already charmed you, monsieur Chichi."

	Chichi looked down at the dagger in his hand, and already he feel his grip shaking. He didn't feel anything-- his opinion hadn't changed at all, but his desire to kill... to [i]harm[/i] this bitch in any way had faded. She was... she was a [i]friend.[/i] He sure as shit didn't believe that, but he was feeling it. He [i]had[/i] to. Her secret was that she always knew how to use more than her words... "Fuck..." He muttered, defeated as the dagger fell from his hand and clanged onto the desk. He looked at her, a mixture of anger and defeat, "I know you aren't this powerful, bitch..."

	Jeanne gestured lightly to the only source of illumination in the room. "You know, patron, you can buy amazing things at a candle stores here!" She shrugged, "Well, with the right friends..."

	The Dwarf couldn't help but smile, he was impressed by the forethought, despite his desire to literally strangle the smug forest bitch to death two times over-- he was literally being forced to play nice, "Well played, cunt."

	"Merci!" Jeanne beamed before noticing his expression and feigning a pout, "Ohh... You know you'll get your gold, Chichi!"

	He sighed, "You know it ain't about the gold... you fucking stole..."

	Jeanne frowned, "Stole what?"

	"Her fucking [b][i]life![/i][/b] [b][i][u]Her FUTURE![/u][/i][/b]You son of a bitch!"

	Jeanne raised a finger, "I will acknowledge that my mother is a bitch, but technically this makes me a 'daughter of a bitch' not the son, as you claim." She flourished her hair, "And honestly I don't see how you could make the mistake!" Her expression became more grave, "What do you mean?"

	"You know exactly what I mean, you fucking bitch."

	Jeanne tsked, "Ohh, patron, I'm afraid to be the one to tell you I really don't!"

	"Why the fuck would you buy an enchanted candle then? You knew I wanted to kill you!"

	"You [i]always[/i] want to kill me patron!" Jeanne teased, "I simply didn't feel like playing our usual cat and mouse today, sorry to disappoint."

	"But then..." Chichi looked down as the reality began to dawn on him.

	"Mmmm?"

	"B-but it had to be you!"

	"I'm not a professional cambrioleur, Chichi! I rely on la ruse et les mots for my scores."

	"What et what?"

	Jeanne sighed, "[i]Cunning.[/i]" she spoke plainly, "And [i]words.[/i]" Relaxing a little, she leaned back in the chair and propped her feet up on the desk, "I may not follow [i]the[/i] law, but do follow a law. I don't break into a man's sacred space to steal, and I certainly don't steal from my patron's child, this is what happened, no?"

	"Fuck..." Chichi's head fell in his hands, "Fuck... fuck... fuck fuck [sub]fuck fuck fuckfuckkkufckfuck...[/sub]"

	"Awww..." Jeanne leaned forward to comfort her employer, "Don't cry patron! Tell me all about it, I can get you... your... your..." She furrowed her brow, "I'm sorry, Chichi, what was it they took?"

	Chichi looked up to the horned maiden with red eyes, waiting a moment before speaking two somber words; "My daughter."