Arra, is it?

The question catches you by suprise. "I... am... are...uh ..." you stammer, slurring together the 'are' and 'uh'.

"No need to be shy, Arra!" laughs Meiphusis. Apparently he has put your slurred words together into 'Arra'.

"Arra, is it?" inquired Onetas, "Sounds foreign...I suppose you are new to these parts?"

"Yes," you mutter, which only sounds cuter in your current voice, "My homeland should be a long way west from here--" You stop yourself from adding 'and a long time from now'.

Luckily, the men do not push it any further. Zegie leaves for a moment after showing you a crude yet comfortable leather chair, and then returns bearing a huge amount of arms and equipment on his back. "Training this early, are we?" muttered Zethall. Zegie ignores him, tossing Onetas a large sword and some armor, and taking an axe and shield for himself.

Meiphusis sighs. "Can't we ever have a holiday? We have a lovely guest, and still you think nothing of work?"

Zegie laughed. "I was hoping she might help us, you know."

"Impossible!" barks Zethall, a bit red. Obviously the old sexist type. "If I had become a Polymorph Mage, I'd turn you into a woman yourself! You're lucky, young man."

Onetas suddenly turns to you. "Forgive my company, they always quarrel like this. And you really are welcome here even if you don't choose to help."

Written by an anonymous author (edited by wanderer)

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