<div class="floatleft">(https://img00.deviantart.net/c62f/i/2017/260/f/2/felannar_commission_by_tamikaproud-dbm5te2.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">Oxenbridge Hewitt</span></span><br/>Character Sheet (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1383223)<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Standing amidst a motley gaggle of onlookers, the half-naked elf took a delicious swig of a nectar-infused ale from a pearl-encrusted goblet that had been handed to him during the celebration.<br/><br/><em>"Speech!"</em>the crowd bellowed.<br/><br/>"Aye, you'll get yer' speech soon enough," the elf retorted with a wanful smile playing on his rough lips.  Then, leaning back dramatically, the elf drunk deeply from the goblet, with several in his company aiding him by tipping the bottom of the chalice upward.  In that moment, the elf was the perfect image of masculine virility, with blood, liquor, and sweat accentuating every ridge of his complex abdominal wall and ribcage, an otherwise sinewy garden in the shadow of two very taut pectorals, the source of his fist's penetrating power.<br/><br/>"Damn, that's good," he said with an elaborate wiping of the mouth and a sigh.   "I've always said that you'll never, ever know where you'll taste your next delicacy.  Sometimes it's in the sewers!"<br/><br/>And here the crowd replied,<em>"with the rats!"</em>.<br/><br/>"It could even be in whorehouses!" Oxenbridge bellowed, casting forth his goblet above his head.<br/><br/>Then the crowd retorted,<em> "with the ladies!"</em><br/><br/>And then the elf added:   "And now, here in this hovel you apes call a jail!"<br/><br/><em>"With us!"</em>came the raucous reply.<br/><br/>Oxenbridge stood there for a moment considering his next words with some difficulty.  He glanced back at the dwarf and felt something that resembled regret.  The elf certainly did not feel proud of what he had done.  He was happy that the fight was over and that he had won, but the liberties that he had taken with the dwarf nagged at him.  Ox tried to rationalize the final, unnecessary face-shattering knee, but he couldn't.  So he became unrepentant.  It was the only way to steel himself from his conscience.<br/><br/>So, he was on the verge of adding insult to injury when he noticed Crow by the door engaged in some sort of fracas with a guard.  By his estimation, the old man was in a flummox, and that just didn't serve.  Without another word, the young elf worked his way through the crowd and approached Crow and the gang, a dark cloud brewing in his eye.<br/><br/><strong> Tagging Nephele. </strong><br/><br/><em>"Master Crow, a moment please,"</em>he heard the temptress utter.<em>"There is no hurry, nothing to fear here. Calm yourself.  Something troubles you, but you are among those you can trust. Please, collect your coin and properly hand it to the good guard. And tell me what worries you so."</em><br/><br/>The woman's voice had such a magnetic force that the elf judged that he could hear her whisper from across the room.  But Crow's voice was gravelly and low, and when he spoke in turn to the come-to-find-out stunning woman, the young man could scarcely make it out.<br/><br/>"Don't talk to him," he said, smiling with a savage snarl.  The woman was so astonishingly beautiful that it was difficult to look at her.   "He's busy.  He's doing stuff."  He then nodded at Crow and gestured at the guard, happy that he did not have to let his gaze linger upon Nephele.   "Is this rape-baby of a guard shaking you?" he asked.  His posture, expression, and tone beckoned for a confrontation.   "Because if he's shaking you, I'm gonna make him swallow his fucking teeth."<br/>