Elves

The poem, written at the Poetry Improvisation Game at the Spire of Meetings, received word to use was "Lady".

***

I sit in tavern, noisy one.

Which goblet am I drinking?

The sun goes down, day is done...

About her I'm thinking.

The Lady enters, full of grace,

And walks among the drunkards.

Can't get my eyes off faultless face...

Alas, I am below her standards.

***

9 summers ago, coast of Forlindon

Earcalie was never one to be lazying about, finding it a waste of time that she could employ doing something productive instead. There were exceptions of course, like that day. During winter time the shipment requests down the coast died down, there were few caravans to escort and generally everyone bunkered down to wait the good season. As it was an unusually warm day, the elleth thought to go for a ride, so she took her reluctant horse out of the stable, and off they went.

Kennet had to ask again to understand what elf Canaddal was telling him. In his serene and distant voice, the elf repeated his words again: