Arianna doesn't witness Brax' or Eska's fury unleashed on the eggs, leaving as soon as she noticed the sorceress taking aim. She rushes out of the room and hears her friend roar in rage and fury before she finds a corner to hide in and try and shut out the warcry that follows so seh would not have to picture what could cause someone so much pain and hatred.
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"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! How many times do you have to kill them?!" James shouts in surprise and concern as suddenly the dwarf begins raging on want was already broken eggs.
Haliel, too, looks on in divine, caring concern, wondering at the tortured lives these mortals must lead.
"Do you believe destruction brings comfort to the dead?" she asks, flatly...hovering a safe distance away.
Eska cracks open the first of the eggs, each a three-foot tall oblong mass flecked with deep black markings. A half-developed dragon squirms out, and her second ray catches it by surprise, causing it to writhe horribly in place and cry out as it struggles for breath. The second and third eggs meet a similar fate, but that doesn't stop Brax from rushing in to tear apart what's left of the undeveloped dragons within.
The cave columns now thoroughly spattered with black shell and thin blue blood, Eska steps out of the room to avoid the worst of the putrid air. James takes more time to look around the room... but it doesn't appear the cultists had much interest in storing treasure in the hatchery.
At least the last vestiges of the cult had been removed, and now the party was to decide on where to go next...
"Alright, back to Greenest then. To talk to...whatshisname?" Eska says eager to get back on the trail.
"Not enuff," Brax says acidly to James, breathing heavily and sweating profusely having just blown up his energy on the eggs. "As fer comfert....ah do na think they be in a position ta mind what 'appens to their remains, but as fer these things?" he asks, waving a hand at what's left of the eggs. "I 'ate 'em."
The dwarf's last words trail into a fit of coughing as the air sears his lungs, but for the moment, he's not coughing up any blood. As he leaves the chamber, he nods at Eska. "Aye. Back ta Greenest we go."
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James shakes his head. "O, my friend, I can tell you the dead are in a place so far removed, and that which we think they hold dear are now so far beneath them as are the concerns of ants.
They want what is best for us, so we might join them in a happy state, free from the fetters that the dark places might make on us after our passing.
...or, at least, that is what Sune teaches. Perhaps it is the best path for me."
He frowns at the lack of ought else, for he had thought the most choice pieces would be kept near the eggs, for it is what he would have done, but alas he thought wrong and nods ascent at the idea of returning to Greenest.
Exiting the chamber, he stops, caught by a fit of wracking coughs...
..but then, continues, no worse for wear. "Bah, dragons are disgusting, I don't care what the rest say."
Haliel flutters softly onto his shoulder and sits contentedly, happy to have flown enough for now.
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As the others pass by, Arianna comes from her corner and falls in behind them. She looks at Brax, a worried expression on her face before she looks away and back into the darkness of the cave. Mondath was dead, but she didn't feel any satisfaction, or vindication, or closure. She didn't really feel anything. Her eyes then fall on Eska, and she couldn't help but worry about this road and where it would lead.
As they march out, she moves up to where Brax is and slowly shepherds him back away from the others.
"Brax... are you okay," she asks once she's sure they're far enough back.
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As the group leaves the cave behind and prepares to leave the cultist's abandoned camp (hopefully for the last time), Brax felt agonizingly raw and empty on the inside. His outburst and destruction of the dragon eggs back in the cave felt tantamount to lancing an old wound that had slowly been festering on the inside. All that was left now was a scar, an emotional wound that would close over, but that would never fully heal and fade away with time.
Deep in thought and his own inner turmoil, the dwarf isn't aware of where he is until he hears Arianna speak. Only then does he realize that he and the elf are a short distance away from the others. "Fer now, ahm betta, lass," he says, though his face remains grim. "Iffen ahv learnd anathin' from th time we've all spent tagethah, it's that each of us have burdens ta bear an war has a way of layin' us bare an showin' those 'eavy loads ta those around us."
Brax pauses, conflicted to speak any further. Ontharr Frume had been the first person the dwarf had finally been able to let down his guard and talk about what happened in Highcastle and even then, Brax hadn't made it easy for the man to trust him. But the dwarf thought back to the events in Greenest after the cultists had been driven away and how Arianna had opened up to him. He owed her an explanation, but not one that was detailed and not one that he wanted everyone else to hear.
"I think th' only good dragun be a dead'un," Brax says, giving the elf a fleeting window of insight in what was eating at him. Without changing his expression, he looks straight at her, then turns his head toward the others, then turns his head back to Arianna. "If ye wish ta know more, find me when we git back ta Greenest an have a chance ta rest."
The party gathers their things and exits the cave system, all traces of the cult now removed. They pass back through the abandoned camp and join the trail leading back through the outcrops and eventually beyond the tall grass of the Greenfields before the walls of Greenest come back into view.
It's a familiar sight that evokes a sense of comfort, further boosted by the guards as they wave the heroes back beyond the gates. It had only been a few days, but the locals have made pretty big gains in restoring the humble village back to what it was before that night.
...
You find Governor Nighthill in his office, adjusting the sling on his broken arm. He jumps in his seat as you enter, startled, his eyes widening. "By the hairy pair of Moradin... you're back!" He gets up and walks over to the party eagerly. "What of the Cult? Do you know their plans? Are they coming back? No way in the Nine Hells of Baator we'll not be prepared this time! My men will fill the streets with crushed kobold heads, they'll see!"
"Uh, try not to sound too surprised." She says scratching the back of her neck.
"Anyway the cult has moved on you needn't fear another attack, certainly so soon. We defeated what remained at their camp including a couple of their lieutenants." she thumbs over her shoulder to Brax and his trophy head.
"I believe we need to meet with Leosin and have some travelling yet to do. Can you help with that?"
"I will, Brax. I owe you that much," Arianna says, wondering what it was that had eaten at the dwarf so.
Arianna, too drained and tired from the events of the past couple of days lets those with more fire in them speak. She'd kept close to Brax all the way back and even now is close by his side.
"'Ere," Brax says, tossing Langdedrosa's head to land at Governor Nighthill's feet. "He's th one runnin' his yap about fightin' when th' town came under attack. Ye kin stick it on a pole as a warnin' ta those'd do 'arm to yer people."
"An Eska's got th' righta it," he nods, suddenly feeling weary for the first time since this whole mess started. "Them leezard luvers be gone, but they ain't done makin' trouble. They be headin' fer Beregost an whatevah they 'ad at th' camp is 'eadin' with 'em. We 'ave only time ta lay Raakuze ta rest," he adds in a somber tone, "an git what little rest we kin afford."
The Governor leans over to pick up the head of Langdedrosa Cyanwrath, holding it up. This was a victory not only for the party, but for Greenest, and the surrounding region as a whole. "The proper trophy for taking down a cult leader. Outstanding work!" He smiles, plunking the head down on his desk. "I'll see to it that we put this in a more public place. Thank you again. You will have to tell me all about your victory over this cocky wannabe dragon."
"Before Leosin left for Elturel, he bought horses and riding gear for you all to help speed your journey there. They're at the dealer's stables until you're ready to leave, and all of your costs have been paid for. He mentioned he would be contacting a paladin by the name of Ontharr Frume there, so you may want to seek them out together. Of course, I imagine you'd want a bit of rest first."
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Eska shifts uncomfortably torn between wanting to be on the trail straight-away and ever the city-girl, the call of a soft bed. "S'pose we could do with not sleeping in the dirt for a day. Let's see to ourselves and head-out at dawn."
She goes to drop her stuff off in the room she's been stay at in the keep. As always the small room is empty and immaculately kept. She wonder's who keeps it so tidy perhaps an unseen maid mincing about. She supposes that in stories heroes were often of noble backgrounds living in important keeps likely with servants mincing about at their lord's pleasure. She feels awkward now being associated with that crowd, feeling somehow more vulnerable than when she was an unnoticed nobody. It is like she can feel the weight of lingering stares as they follow her or the expectation of greatness as people freeze what they are doing to catch a glimpse of her as if they are bit players in the tableau of her life. As she closes the door behind her she notices that her heart is beating all too fast.
She imagines or hears a whisper ~...Rezmir...~
Darkness interrupts her vision and recedes so swiftly she is left unsure what happened. Perhaps just her imagination, a trick of light or maybe her own lingering exhausting?
Arianna follows Brax to wherever he is going to drown his sorrows, waiting with tired patience for him to tell her what he has been through as she stares into her drink.
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As much as Brax wants to rest, he has some major pieces of business to take care of in the way of promises made to friends both living and gone. Though Arianna is with him, he begins fulfilling the first promise and the one that will be the least difficult.
The pair make their way to the temple of Chauntea where Brax tracks down Eaydan. "Yer grace," Brax says, getting the half-elf's attention. With a heavy heart, he presents a burlap sack that contains the head and what remains he was able to find of Raakuze. After informing Eaydan of what's inside (to ensure that no one opens it), Brax takes a couple of steps back. "I ask ye ta give him last rites an' a praper beryial so 'is soul may 'ave rest in th' next life. I'll pay whatever th' cost be," Brax says somberly.
After making the arrangements (and paying whatever coin is necessary), Brax turns and with Arianna in tow, makes his way to the tavern to get a meal and to keep the commitment he'd promised the elf back in the cultist's camp. When the server comes to take their orders, Brax orders a tankard of ale along with a plate of fried potatoes, lamp chops, and tomato soup. "No refills on th' ale," he instructs.
He notices that Arianna is giving him a curious look. "Ye thought I'd be drinkin' meself inta a stupor, lass," he says. We be needin' ta leave on th' morrow an nothin' slows a group down like a man with a 'angover." The dwarf pauses and subconsciously begins picking at a splinter on the edge of the table as the elf's gaze lingers on him.
"Ah 'ates draguns," Brax said, finally breaking the silence. "It not be new to ye, but the only good dragun be a deadun. Ontharr told me that like dwarves, they be good'uns an they be bad'uns of any race, but if they be good'uns, they be fine iffen they stay outta me way an me business. Still," he says. "Had ye known me after ah came ta hate 'em but before I met Ontharr, ye'd be right ta keep an eye on me cuz I'da been goin through a 'ole keg ah booze an not a tankard. Still, losin' people," he adds "if that ain't reason ta drink enough ta pass out an not remember th' pain a loss, I dona know what is."
"Maybe realizing that you're the killer," Arianna says more loudly than she'd intended. She pushes the untouched tankard away, knowing that if she started she would drink herself under the table. She folds her arms on the table and rests her chin between them as she continues to stare the tankard. "At least you can say that you haven't helped make a bloodbath like the one we walked into here," she says into her arms. "To be honest, I'm a little surprised you still want to talk to me. I was really surprised you stopped me from..."
Her voice trails off as she closes her eyes and buries her head into her arms to keep the dwarf from seeing her tear up and to try and keep herself from crying.
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"As ah said, lass, what ye've done in th' past be between ye and those ye believed ye've wronged," Brax replied. He takes a bite of fried potato and continues. "But we'd lost Raakuze. I wasn't about ta lose ye, too. And if we be wadin' on thru this mess we've gotten inta, we be a'needin' all 'f us tagether ta git to th' other side."
"I'm tired a'seein' people I know die," Brax says. He lets out a heavy sigh and takes a deep drink of ale from his tankard. A little of it goes down the wrong pipe and he splutter and coughes. Before Arianna can do anything, he waves her off. "Na worries,"he says between fits of coughing. "It be what 'appens when ye inhale spirits quicker than ye can chug 'em down."
Once he gets his coughing under control, the dwarf decides to be frank with Arianna. "As fer bludbaths," he says reluctantly. "Imma not innacent of what ye say. I caused one an ah 'ad the O.K. ta do so. I wasna always a wheelwright, if ye remember when we met outside town 'ere. In 'em betta days, I lived in Highcastle. It be a small place 'bout th' size of Greenest and I wuz a captain in a small militia tha' kept th' peace in town and th' area around it. In 'em days," he says in a tone of nostalgia in his voice, "other 'n th' problems evry so oftun with goblinoids 'er bandits, life wuz peaceful an' times were good. An 'en one day, the dragun came."
Brax pauses, trying to find his words, not wanting to draw out a story that he had any desire to relive in his lifetime. "We'd been out on patrol an' 'ad jist gotten back when we saw it fly in from th' north, whitr 'n snow an deadlier 'an th' coldest blezzard. It didna 'wreek havok' like 'em books like ta make 'em draguns out ta be. It be there lookin fer somethin'. We saw it land at th' home of Olidya Ruestav, a person that was regarded as a 'ero an' legund an it began tearin' th' place apart. I gave th' order to engage it 'an lead th' charge."
The dwarf stops to take another drink, albeit more measured and a lot longer of a draught. "I swear, on Moradin's hammer, that I wanted ta fight that white reptile, but I could na make mah feet move to 'im. All I could do wuz stand 'ere an watch 'im tear apart my men that were able to try ta fight it an even then, I couldna watch fer long. It kilt three of 'em, one of 'em a young lad who'd been three fortnights outta his trainin' and it maimed the others bad enuff th' they couldna do their duty as soldjurs. It maimed me, too," he continued. "While I could shut out the sight of what happen, I couldna close me ears to th' sound a their screams unless I drank 'em away."
"Th blasted thing wound up killin' Olidya, too, an' it razed her 'ome and took a sword Olidya'd brought back with 'er from 'er adventurin' days," Brax says, reaching the finish of his tale. "But as fer me men that day.....their blood be on my 'ands an I couldna carry on bein' a militia officer with their fates on me soul. Just like Raakuze's blood is on my hands. Let 'im die an save meself 'er stand with 'im and we both die. These be th' things I hafta live with," the dwarf grouses sadly. "I weren't about ta' live with ye blood on my hands, too, lass."
"An that's why I 'ate draguns. Th' other night when that big'un flew over th' keep. I couldna move. It be like Highcastle all over agin," he says as he slams his tankard down on the table a little more forcefully than called for. "I 'ate draguns, lass. I 'ate 'em."
"I... I'm sorry," Arianna says as Brax finishes his tale. Tears roll down her face as she remembers other nights full of blood and fire, nights where she'd reveled in the slaughter as men, elves, and dwarves like Brax died screaming.
"I'm sorry," she says again as she remembers trying to argue for mercy and wonders how hard was it for Brax to hear her make that argument after he'd been hurt stopping her from taking her own life. She buries her head in her arms and shudders as she tries desperately not to bawl like a baby.
"I'm sorry."
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Brax felt raw on the inside. He'd only had this sensation once before and not surprisingly, it was when he'd broken his silence on what had happened to his men in Highcastle to Ontharr. But looking across the remains of his meal at Arianna's slumped form, the dwarf felt a stirring of realization.
We be hard on ourselves fer th' choices we make an th' consaqences of 'em, but fer th' lass an' me, it may be all we will be.
"Lass, he says, his tone becoming a little less edgier. "There be no shame in ye tears. War be 'ell an 've seen it turn big strappin' men inta wee babes because a what war makes 'em do. But it means 'at ye've not yet lost who ye be to it. I think no less a ye fer weepin' jist like I canna make judgement fer past deeds. Iffen ye answer fer 'em one day, ah'll stand an speak of what 'ave seen ye do 'ere fer these folk."
The dwarf kills the remainder of his ale and temporarily puts his own pain aside until it will manifest itself again in dream or thought. "Truth be 'is. After makin' that dragunman pay fer Raakuze's murder an' findin' out what them leezard sheep be plannin', I wuz gonna part ways with all aya, but with 'em plannin' ta do more a' th' same to other innacent folk in other towns, I canna stop until ahm certun they canna do ta others whut they did 'ere."
"It be ok ta cry now," Brax continues. "An it be ok ta hurt. It be ok to remember th' past. But Eska, Met Anoi-a, an James 'n 'is litta frien' be countin' on us, not ta mention those these cultists be thretnin'. But when th' tears stop an th' pain numbs, we gotta do th' things we gotta do an 'ope tha no one else 'as ta go through all we've been through."
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James takes himself away from the city at first opportunity. He gives none heed if they call out warnings or try to stop him. The affairs of mortals are not what is on his mind.
He finds a copse of close-grown yew trees and sits cross-legged in the inner clearing. HAliel settles herself beside him as he mutters prayers of calling to Sune and her allies.
His answers is not long in coming.
"Rè͊̈p̒ȏrt͌̒̊". The voice is soft and also booming. It touches not the ears, but echos long inside his skull. It is like Haliel's voice, but she is merely a candle and this the heat of a thousand suns.
James gives a synopsis of the events. He keeps it brief.
"F̎ͤ̓ai͑lͨ̾͊u̅͌̂rė̍," the voice states with disdain.
His eyebrows knit in angst and confusion.
"The ͫ̈C̑ult̓̍ͨ ͦͤh̋͐asͧ̂ ͩ̈́ͥbee͗nͤͩ̃ ͦsͯ͛uͫ̽̅cc͐e̍ͫͬssfuͭ̈́l.̑ ̒͂̏ Poͣ́we͌̐ͮr̂ͥ̿ ̃̿̿ha͒s̃̇ ͌͆bͧͬe̐en ͑f̃ed̒ ̉͋̃to ̋ͣTͪ̎͛ḧ̓e Ene̽̈ͧmy̎, ̅̅ȁ͋̚n̈́̇́d we̍ ̏aͨ̌̏r̓ͯͨeͬ̃ l̍osi̋̎ng̒̽. ̎ ̀̒Alre̒͛ady͂̔̓ th̊͒͗e Stͪeps͌͒̊ õ̐f͑ Nͣ͊̆ium̄̎͆ôt̃̽hͮ̋ an͒͗dͣͦ t̀he̽ Ḣall ̉̐oͥf ̒͌Pͬe͐͒̽il͌͌ͤuthȍ̋ ͐̓a͐ͬr̿̇e losͦ͛̄t t̒o ͫu̓͐s̏.
D͑rȁ̾ͥgoͥ͌ͥnw͒̾̚řait̔̚hs̄̌̆ f̐lͧ͐y unchå̐̿l̑ĺͩe̐̿̇n͑͌g̉ͭ́ẻ͋d̋ ͒al͌̚ȏ̍nḡ̒ ̈̏th͛̏e͒ ̍C̈ͨoa̚st ̋̋oͯ̚f̓̓ͩ Q̑uͥnox, ̄anͪ̿d t̃̂̾he̿̈̎ Sě̾̉vͫ̑e͗̈n ͋̒G͋ate͐̋̂s of Joneͧ-m̍̓ů̈́t̔̓ã͐̍s͒͂͐ ͪar̈́̈́͗e͌̔̋ ̾͊besiͫ̍ͫe̋ͦ̚g̀͊eͩ̔̄dͦ̇."
So many? James knew, better than most, of the ethereal power that flows to Deities and their realms when homage is made by their followers, but usually the ebb and flow keep things in a kind of balance. He did not know that Tiamat had grown so powerful with the horrid, but apparently virile, occult rights the Cult was now performing.
"We know where they head. They shall all fall to Sune's glory. I swear it."
"Vͫͬ̒i̎̉cṫoͦ͋r͒y ̓ͬ̋nͧeeͯ̂dsͨ̿̋ ̓ͣń̌o ̚eͣ̿xplͤ͊anͤ̊ͮä́ͭtͪ̂ͦi͂̆̎ō̈̒n̑, ́̐ͥd̎͛̚ef̉͛e̓̽̎atͩ̋ ̈́al̊lows͊̽͛ nͨoneͫ.ͫ̉"
He had no retort to that. Words would not matter if Tiamat won this war.
"And̋ͮ Hͪǎ̚liel"?
The small angel looked up, her eyes wide with wonder and confusion that she should be addressed during a Commune.
"Y̿̈́oͭͬuͦ ̍ͯ͗h͛ͮ̂à̅̿v̾e no̊̒̓t d̈̏i͂ͨ̉edͬ͋̊ ͗ͧ̃ye̊̅t̔͋ͨ".
With that her head lowered in abasement and shame.
James rose.
In the morning there would be work to do.
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Arianna nods, her head still buried in her arms as she sniffles. She leaves with Brax, her head bowed and hood pulled low so no one could see her tear-reddened eyes. After the past couple of days, she felt numb, only numb. More than once, she found herself stumbling only for Brax to catch her, much like when she'd been scared, or ashamed, or overwhelmed before.
Much like he'd stopped her when she was ready to take her own life.
The citadel's gate comes into view as she has a thought.
"Brax? Can you teach me the dwarven tongue and runes," she asks in a soft, husky voice.
===
The next morning finds Arianna fiddling with her hair. she didn't regret cutting it to make the lanyard for Eska's knife, but she felt naked without the weight of the braid on her neck and shoulders. She couldn't cut much more off, at least not without shaving her head, so she finds herself wondering what else she could do. before the others wake, she hurries off to find an apothecary and see if they might have anything.
Arianna slips out and finds Greenest's local apothecary, a family-owned business like most other shops in town run by perhaps Greenest's only two gnomes, an eccentric duo named Isli and Pip Dazzlehouse. The jittery Dazzlehouses were known for finishing others' thoughts, often assuming what their customers wanted before they could ask for it. Regardless, their products were known for their potency - "the heartiest poultices in all of Faerûn!" they'd insist.
Brax nods to Arianna. "Aye," he says, giving the elf a nod of admiration. "I'd be willin' ta teach ye th' langwigh of me people iffen ye'd be willin' ta return th' fava with th' speech of yer people."
As the pair part ways, Brax retires to his room to sleep. With a journey on the morrow and the night already long, the dwarf seeks to use what time he has left to get some much needed rest.
"Of course," she says with a smile. "It's the least I could do."
The Dazzlehouses' shop was one of the more peculiar buildings in Greenest, Every feature seemed to be of a different architectural style. It was also one of the few that was relatively untouched by the raid. Those few kobolds that braved the place had been a killed in rather gruesome ways. One had turned to blueberry jelly after sampling an unlabeled potion. Another had turned to stone as acid ate through it. Three more had become snacks for a toy gelatinous cube, a fashion that the Dazzlehouses insist will catch on, but so far has had little traction.
Arianna stood in the door, having second thoughts as she stared at the purple-blue stain on the floor of the shop. She was about to turn when a small gnomish man poked his head around one of the overburdened shelves that was crammed into the room.
"Ah! A customer," he exclaimed with childish glee before rushing up to the young elf and grabbing her hand. "Welcome! Welcome to the most wondrous place in Greenest, nae, in all of Faerun! I know just what you need, my young elven maiden! Um, you are a maiden aren't you? Ah, it's not important! What is is that we know what you need. Here!"
The gnome's chattering paused only as he shoved a vial into her hands. Arianna looked at the vial, not sure she wanted to take the risk after hearing about what became of the kobolds.
"I'm looking for-" she began, the words coming slowly as she regained some of her composure.
"You're looking for something to help keep you voice as sweet as honey and clear as a mountain brook, at least I believe that is what they say, yes, from the first hour that you sing to the twentieth! Yes! Pip Dazzlehouse never misses his customers' needs! And you needn't worry about the dose! That vial will last months! The heartiest poultices in all of Faerun, I tell you!"
Arianna looked at the gnome, wondering if he was always this exciteable.
"Um, I-" she tried to say, but a crash and a loud cry coming from the back interrupted her and stole Pip Dazzlehouse's attention. The two of them raced to the source of the noise and were greeted by an almost invisible cube of jelly, two feet to a side and full of bones that, if it had one, would have been wagging its tail. Following behind is a small gnome woman chastising the strange creature.
"Floof-i-diddles! You're not supposed to be out and about until your bath is done," she squealed before noticing Arianna looking on with a confused expression on her face.
"Oh dear heavens! Forgive my rudeness! Isli Dazzlehouse, at your service. Pardon Floof-i-diddles here, she's a bit rambunctious!"
Arianna stared, slack-jawed, at the gnome for a moment before shaking her head and trying to say why she'd come.
"It's fine. I'm loo-"
"-Looking for a special someone," Isli squeals in glee before scurrying past both Floof-i-diddles, the toy gelatinous cube, and Arianna. "I have just the thing for such a cute thing like you," the gnome added as she sent Arianna up on her toes with a squeak with a pinch.
Arianna's cheeks flushed from the embarrassment as she turned to follow Isli and Pip as they argued about where they'd put one of their concoctions. The small gelatinous cube followed behind like a puppy and seemed to sniff at Arianna's boots. The elf, remembering where those bones must have come from, quickened her pace to catch up with the gnomes.
"Ah! Here it is," Isli hooted with glee as she bounced over to meet Arianna as she turned the corner, nearly crashing into the elf. "You'll need to say a simple incantation to activate the magic, but once that's done, a drop of this will make anyone fall in love with you. A sip and neither of you will be keeping your clothes on for long! We only sell the heartiest poultices in Faerun, I tell you," she said and shoved the vial into Arianna's hands.
Now thoroughly red-faced, Arianna stammered as she tried to find her voice.
"B-but I'm not here-"
"Of course! You're here to keep the sun from roasting your fair skin into dark, gnarled leather," Pip exclaimed as he scurried off to find "just the thing."
"No, I-"
"You're looking for something to limber you up for some secret rendevous!"[b]
[b]"Huh? Uh, I was-"
"Looking for something to make your skin glow! We have fifteen different hues from reds to blues!"
"I-I-"
"Need something to enhance those feminine wiles! Bust size increases are guaranteed or its free."
"What? No! I-"
"You are looking to be a different you! We have a special on polymorph potions, BOGO twenty-five percent off!"
"No! It's just-"
"It's just that you are really in need of a leg up over your male counterparts. I know, sweety! I can tell by your stance you're a fighter."
"We also have this lovely weight-loss formula to help you keep that elvish figure!"
"Potions that will make you irresistibly charming."
"Potions to make you look like a goddess! for a little while anyway! Make them come crawling on their knees!"
"Potions that will drive them to beg for mercy while you're in-"
Arianna's shout cut through the shop and brought the two gnomes to a stop as they looked at the wide-eyed and overwhelmed elf. "I-I just want something to make my hair grow out quickly."
Isli and Pip studied the elf for a moment before turning around and crouching in a huddle. Arianna could hear that they were whispering, but couldn't make out what they were saying. A moment later, they turned back with beaming smiles that did not reassure Arianna in the slightest despite their friendliness.
"We have something that should work," Pip said as he took the vials piled in her arms from her.
"Right this way," Isli added as she grabbed Arianna's hand and led her to the back of the shop. She had Arianna sit in a chair and began to draw the curtains on the only windows.
"Relax. We promise that this is absolutely safe and harmless," Pip told the elf as he walked in and closed the door, plunging the room into darkness. A smell like cinnamon, sugar, and a field of wildflowers filled the room and caused Arianna to start feeling drowsy. Something cool and wet was massaged into her scalp as she feels her head lolling a bit. She tries to remain alert, but it was so nice to just relax.
"Don't worry, sweety," Isli cooed, "you'll have locks worthy of the maiden you are in no time. You are a maiden aren't you."
Arianna perked up at that. Her mind felt fuzzy as her scalp tingled and scent of mint filled the air and cooled her mouth. She couldn't place where she'd heard the question before.
"G-guess so. N-never been wi' 'nybody," she murmured. "Why?"
"Oh, no reason. Curiosity is all," Isli reassured her as she massaged her scalp. Arianna's body tingled as she felt like she was drifting into some wonderful dream.
Then it was over.
Arianna sat in the chair she'd been in for, she didn't know how long, her hair covering her face and growing down past her waist.
"Whu? How long have I been asleep," she asked in a panic.
"Not long, just a few minutes," Pip answered as he brushed off his hands. The answer helped Arianna relax, but she knew she had to get going soon if she didn't want to be left behind.
"It's alright, sweety. Just let us know if anything unusual happens. Just address any letters to the Dazzlehouses and they'll know how to find us," Isli said before guiding Arianna out of the backroom and outside the shop. "You're all paid up and free to go!"
With the click of the door latch, Arianna found herself wondering what had just happened. A moment passed, and she decided that was a puzzle for later, taking a moment to braid her hair and gain some comfort in the familiar weight of her silvery locks. Her errand finished, she hurries back to the keep to help the others get ready.
Meanwhile, back in the Dazzlehouses' shop.
"Do you think we should have told her," Isli asked Pip as she helps him store the massive pile of silver hair cut from Arianna's head.
"Nah, it'll be fine," he reassures his wife as he puts another pitchfork full into a large burlap sack.