text: “Draerin, why don’t we ever say anything?” Chandric asked, glancing between his mate at the bar and the table where two elves sat drinking wine while their human friends socialized over a meal. The tavern was not overly crowded but there was enough that the two dwarves felt comfortable talking at the bar without being overheard. Talking in their native tongue was another way to keep their words from traveling too far. Draerin stared at the head on his ale for a bit, lost in the way the firelight glistened off the head as it slowly rippled from the force of Chandric’s mug being set down. Not a full slam but enough force to cause a few waves. “It’s your first time being outside, isn’t it?” he said after a bit. Glancing at the table that held Chandric’s ire, Draerin continued on. “It is a bit different being told about it back in the caverns than having it shoved in your face. Is that the problem?” Chandric stroked his beard idly, fiddling with the braid that held the charms which named his clan. Giving it an irritated tug he reached for his mug again and took a gulp. “How can they not notice?” Draerin drained half his mug before answering. “An elf may only live twice as long as us, but that is ten to twenty of their lives.” He answered once the mug was upon the wood once more. “It can be easy to forget that. Some of their wizards live longer but they are still, on average, a fleeting race.” “But even so, how they are treated by them, why can’t they see?” “The elves have a gentle hand.” Draerin says after another shallower sip. “They have had time to refine their influence on humans. And it may be that humans unconsciously find the relationship acceptable.” “Really? To be treated like pets. Bred and groomed with traits that their *patrons* find pleasing is acceptable?” Chandric slams his mug down at this, causing the little bit of ale left to slosh wildly about. Were it fuller there would be a mess upon the bar but thankfully he knows better than to waste ale. There is a burst of laughter from the the elves’ table. Some of the humans are focused on one of their member who is shrinking in on themselves a bit. A sheepish grin spreads across their face as they shrug and one of their friends slaps their back in a friendly manner. Draerin shakes his head. “Even after all these years I still have trouble at times telling them apart. Especially if they don’t have hair on their faces.” Turning back to his mate he returns to the subject at hand. “It was much more obvious in the beginning. And more of the humans objected to the treatment. You still get some of that sentiment in the free states but the elves distanced themselves from the humans for a short time, well short for them, and then tried again.” Chandric grumbles under his breath something that Draerin ignored before moving on. “They returned with a different approach: The current form of Patronage. They are more focused on letting the humans have a more fulfilled life than they are on forcing them to be what the elves want. Sure there are gladiatorial circuits and various martial tourneys but they also foster their various wards to create fashion, art, and sundry other areas. Some Patrons even go out with various groups to explore. I have seen some politicking among the various elven families but generally they do not force any human to do something they don’t want.” “But they breed them like horses for the best lineages!” interrupts Draerin, grasping his mug with white knuckles to keep on the bar and not swinging it around for emphasis. Chandric shakes his head and takes a measured sip. “Not quite, lad. They do try to influence pairings by introducing humans they think would make good offspring, but they do no force them. There are some among the human nobility that do such things and every now and then that bleeds over into Patronage states but it is not something from the elves. Like I said, they have become more patient and sure they may try creating circumstances that will lead to a coupling but they do not force it.” The human and elf table of interest is now focused on another of their member. This one is holding up a scroll. Whether it is something they found or something one of them wrote the tavern is too noisy for either dwarf to pick up on. “It is not perfect. I do not even say it is something I approve of but the elves do not force and they do not even try stopping any of their Wards’ families from leaving, though the economics of that may be something to discuss another time and with someone else but it is a system that both the elves and humans seem to be comfortable with. There are the free states, though I hear the elves name them the feral states,” A harrumph is added here, “and it has cut down on strife between the kingdoms. We say nothing and do not interfere due to the debt our people owe the Elves but it can difficult at times. It colors our reactions on personal levels yet you can not let that go further than that. If you can’t keep the Covenant, you will have to return to the caves for a while to meditate on it before you can return topside. You do not want to be the one responsible for destroying the balance. Can you keep it in, even while seeing the small things done that the humans overlook or ignore?” Draerin focuses on the younger dwarf intensely, awaiting a reply. It is a long moment of neither dwarf drinking before finally Chandric dips his head. “I just didn’t think it would stand out so much to me but aye, nothing shall be done or said by me to disrupt the balance.” Solemnly he brings up his ale as they both touch mugs and take a long gulp.