Elandra had already composed herself; she knew that the woman she had come to see had a half-orc assistant and bodyguard. She was no aristocrat, but still, half-orcs were not a race that she had had many dealings with before. This one, just from the sound of his gravely voice and crude grammar, seemed to fit the stereotype. Which made it easier to deal with him, in a way, so long as she didn’t show fear or disgust at his appearance. After all, his employer surely needed new customers every now and then.
“We are here to see Nyvara,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “we want to buy something.”
“We?” asked the half-orc, his eyes glancing about.
He could probably see far better than her in the dark of the night, but from his vantage point behind the door, her body was blocking his view of Tinberly.
“My daughter is here with me,” she said, reluctantly taking a half step to the side, so that he could see. Surely they looked harmless enough?
The half-orc grunted, “you wait here. I be back soon.”
The little shutter closed, leaving the two of them outside in the darkened alley. Elandra pulled her shawl more tightly around herself, although it was more the lateness of the hour and the unfamiliarity of the streets that was getting to her than any feeling of cold, for, if anything, it was quite a warm night.
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