[center][h2][color=maroon]Ansel, the Wraith[/color][/h2][/center] [hr] Nestled among the diverse band of strangers in the carriage sat one rather unassuming wood elf. His fine blonde hair, his deep blue eyes, his knife-like ears were all normal, standard features one would imagine when they would think of an elf. A "default" elf that wouldn't so much as receive a second glance under normal conditions. It would be difficult to perceive, and perhaps even more difficult to articulate why, but there was something distinctly unusual with this elf. Though he looked around often he rarely blinked. Though he acknowledged things spoken he rarely spoke himself. His breathing was irregular, his hair and clothes ever so slightly disheveled (an uncharacteristic behavior for a wood elf). There were bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept in days yet he had no struggle keeping his eyes open. Many subtle oddities that most wouldn't event detect but in truth hide a secret. Though this elf was a real, living person he was the ideal disguise for a soul without a body. The vessel by which Ansel had infiltrated the group, the dead hiding amongst the living. Coming to Goeta without such a [i]mask[/i] would yield no favorable results. At least not when it came to his mission, as the temptation to reveal himself was an ever-present and amusing urge in the back of his mind. [color=maroon][i]By the Gods, these meatbags don't look very promising at all,[/i][/color] Ansel had thought to himself as the carriage came to a halt outside the City of Demons. [color=maroon][i]Maybe they will make excellent distractions one day, should the need arise.[/i][/color] As the crew departed from their ride and the guide began their spiel the blonde elf remained silent, eyes forward and attention completely on Farfa. He continued to watch the drama unfold without any commentary of his own, though internally he was already growing annoyed with the delays. When the ogres refused entry to the small crowd a frown finally escaped the elf's lips. [color=maroon][i]This is asinine. I'm ditching this knife-ear the moment we finally meet this asshole,[/i][/color] he thought. As the rest of the party began to fidget or introduce themselves, perhaps in a bid to gain access to the city from the ogres guarding the gate, Ansel came up with a way to make this waste of time a little more fun. For himself, that is. Stood next to him was a young human girl, so young perhaps she was not finished growing. She spoke no words but was visibly upset, eyes casting about and body ever-so-slightly fidgeting. Nervous? Perhaps, but even if she wasn't it did not matter. It was her silence that made her an amusing victim. The blonde elf made a shocked expression, perfectly feigning offense at something surely appalling. [color=khaki]"Heavens, child,"[/color] he finally spoke up, his voice lowered as if to speak privately to Umara yet deliberately loud enough that even the ogres at the gate could hear. [color=khaki]"You mustn't call them such vulgar names, lest they might hear you."[/color] The seeds of chaos had been already been sown when the goblin confronted the guide, but even if they hadn't Ansel would feel no remorse for his practical joke. Even if nothing came of it and it went ignored, or worse still if it went unheard by the ogres, the discontent that he had created between this human girl and this elf he was controlling would surely provide him a punchline in the near future. The poor elf was going to have a lot of explaining to do once Ansel was through, and that thought alone made it all worthwhile. In the meantime he maintained his act perfectly, putting a finger up to his lips as if to hush Umara and prevent her from defending herself or calling out his lie. He didn't even look around to gauge the reactions of the others, further solidifying his act by not revealing that it was the reactions he was seeking. [color=maroon][i]If I have to sit here and waste a few more minutes then I might as well milk it for what I can.[/i][/color]