“Well, perhaps I know him,” the owner offered, following the pair to the door, never one to let a nibble slip the bait easily, especially from ones that looked as green as these girls.  “Few are the folk who travel through Moldave who do not stop in here for a drink or a bite or a bit of gossip.  What did you say his name was again?”<br/><br/>“I’m sure they did not.  Likely they are just trying to escape the fetid smell of this sty before it overwhelms them.”<br/><br/>A slender figure in a dark green jerkin and leather breeches had peeled himself away from the back table to join them near the entry.  He possessed a narrow face with sharp cheek bones and high brows that, although not unhandsome, gave him a rather arch expression even at rest.  Of more immediate interest perhaps were the pointed ears that peeked through his swept back black hair.   Smiling roguishly, he offered Lia and Leanna a faint bow.  “It is so seldom I see a fellow elf that I had to offer you my greetings before you fled.  Are you sure you won’t join the rest of us travelers at our table though?  We are always eager for news from the south.  Don’t let Lud there scare you off, he is only after the coin in your pocket like most inn keeps.”<br/><br/>This brought another snort from the nearby dwarf.  “If anyone is apt to pick your pocket ‘tis this one.”<br/><br/>The elf laughed merrily, shaking his head.  “Ignore Wendell.  He is bitter because his master left him behind for  fairer company.  My name is Lysander by the way.  Join us and may I suggest purchasing a bottle of Hysland Brandy for sharing first?  There’s no surer way to make friends here, and it is bottled elsewhere and shipped up river so you can be certain it is clean.”  He smiled, gray eyes twinkling.  “The glasses, on the other hand, you may wish to scrub out first.”