New Magic Brothers: A scholar and a tattoo artist walk into a tavern…

The night was not kind to Rum but filled him with terrors. A long nightmare of the arrow still stuck inside him ravaged his consciousness, and he woke up at dawn with mild pain in his chest. Sweating profusely, he found his right hand clinging to it, right where his lungs were. The dream, at once weird and terrifying, lingered at the back of his mind.

As he sat up in the bed and pulled aside his blanket, Rum noticed White Rose standing at the end. Ze was looking into the mirror, just as ze'd been doing hours ago. Noticing in turn Rum's eyes on ze in the reflection, White Rose turned around to look at him. No expression from a skeleton, as always, though for the briefest of moments, Rum wondered if ze was not capable of that most primal of emotions: concerned curiosity. For I am after all, at least for the most part, White Rose's only real connection in this world. But he put that thought aside. No answers could be found in it, not yet at least.

Grabbing for the blanket again, he used it to wipe away chunks of sweat from his forehead. After repeated wipes, he looked down at it to see a new large stained spot. Not good. The ambient heat isn't nearly hot enough to justify a fraction of this sweat. He grabbed at a drier part of the blanket, and continued wiping various spots on his face and neck. The blanket was gradually soaked in it. Eventually, he held it out in front of him, looking at it again. Not good at all. I will have to do something – today.

He stayed in bed a little while longer, wiping himself lightly. His thoughts kept thinking back to the arrow which he'd felt in his dreams, piercing at his insides. As time stretched on, he rolled over to the side, where he planted his feet on the wooden floor and stood up. He looked over at his skeleton. "White Rose, I have to go somewhere." The skeleton simply watched, as Rum left the bedroom. Amez had not arrived yet, it was too early, and so Rum took the shop's front door out.

My injuries are going to require some exceptional arts of healing, Rum pondered as he strolled out into the dawn-lit streets. A mild pain was still present in his lungs as walked among the few passerbys, and as he thought silently to himself in the open, he decided to set direction towards his brother's house. Arriving there several minutes later, he pounded the house door. A sleepy-faced Amez begrudgingly let him inside. They sat around a table together in Amez' kitchen, and Rum quizzed his even more sleep-deprived brother long and hard. The little brother listened with closed eyes and a face leaning against his palm. To his credit, Amez did come to a concerned attention though when Rum got into explaining the issue. Minutes later when he left the house, Rum was sent to talk to some old rich customers of Amez, who his little brother remembered had talked about being patched up by famous physicians. Tired, but determined to end his misery, Rum strode across the city, going from district to district, in time discovering the homes and whereabouts of two such former customers, who put Rum on the trail to find the most capable doctor in the city. If I don't find the best, or at least close to it, I won't find a cure, Rum encouraged himself, as he bore the walking up and down across Ermos' many long streets, in pain, with insufficent sleep, and chronically fatigued. The damages still inside of Rum were so small in size, so intricate, he couldn't imagine anyone but the foremost in the medical field were even able to properly understand his problem. Except perhaps in a superficial way, Rum sighed.

The running around the city, and the quizzing of nearly a dozen different people, led Rum eventually to a sure name and a sure location. His tiresome quest was finally bearing fruit.

It was already approaching noon when Rum begun the next, and most importance stage of his quest: to find the cure. He stood outside, from across a wide, clean, and nearly empty street, gazing at a large building in front of him. The building in question was the offices of one of Ermos' most trusted and respected doctors, loved by the rich and the powerful: Doctor Sharam, also known as Sharam The Great.

Surrounding the building was an environment reflective of the apparent eliteness of this doctor. Part of a beautiful, affluent district, the street's stone pavements were lined by bright colorful flowerbeds and tall hedges, beyond which were white marble homes and majestic white marble sculptures. The sculptures in particular were a sight to behold. They were many, and came in all sizes and depicting all manners of people, animals, monsters, and weird objects, varying between cute, abstract, historic, and then all the way to just plain horrific. It was a street and a district of the rich and the powerful. That was the message crafted into every part of his surroundings.

Before coming here, Rum had tried for a brief break in his bed again. But with sleep unable to find him, Rum came to the increasing realization that he needed to visit the doctor not just today, but now, while the sun was still up, and the doctor still available. Rum cast "Clean Body" and "Renew Clothes" on himself, the spell's magical energies swirling around him and transforming him. Within seconds, he stood there in a very expensive looking suit, complete with useless rich-person decorations. Oh, I look practically at home here! Standing in the middle of the affluent district, Rum reviewed himself. His attire included multiple silver embroidery, a red rose flower peeking out from a chest pocket, and big baggy sleeves. So baggy were the sleeves in fact, that it was almost like the dress itself was trying its utmost to show off just how much silky cloth Rum could afford, despite him randomly conjuring it for free out of thin air. His Clean Body spell had also, it appeared, conspired with Renew Clothes in order to make him presentable, as he now had an exquisitely braided beard which even smelled faintly of honey. It might've been his imagination, but he also felt like a previously visible pimple on his neck had been covered up with some kind of magical make-up.

Regardless, Rum didn't care much about any of this, besides the fact that his clothes were a little less comfortable than usual. That bothered him, but not too much. He walked up towards the building, starting the most important stage of his quest for health.

The front of the building, of which he had a perfect view, had marble walls decorated with an array of engravings, depicting various acts of healing. His eyes glanced across them, before looking up and above the entrance. There, a sleek glistening wooden frame traced the outlines of an archway, and atop of it hang a large garland of flowers, with decorative sticks mixed in to give the garland structure. Rum had the sense that everything about this place hummed with pride and wealth, and even more so, power, as in the power to bestow healing. His feet carried him under the flowers, and his lowered to look inside. The hallway he entered held many more depictions in marble, where the doctor, or at least a doctor, was saving lives. Serious operations, home-visits to bedridden nobles, and even heroic acts of healing amidst an ongoing battle against the dungeon lords. Rum's lips drew a smile as he looked at the nobles. They were all glorified to the point of silly. He saw battle mounts that were just heaps of muscle under plated armor. Every noble had a perfect figure too. Nobody had any signs of age, extra fat, or even a single asymmetry. And they all stood in valiant poses – except the one noble being brought back to life by the doctor. He was instead valiantly dying, and prepared it seemed to give a long heroic speech to the doctor at his deathbed, while an axe stuck out from his muscled-creeped belly.

Rum had been in a battle before. Not as a combatant, but he had seen soldiers die, even two nobles die. Neither the soldiers nor the nobles came either fully-muscled nor fully armored, and their last acts upon dying – especially when gutted by sharp weapons – was usually to cough up mountains of blood while relieving themselves. Most shameless of all, their loyal friends and followers would usually try to excuse themselves from the inconvenient mid-battle deathbed, leaving the less-than-heroic noble to bleed out and choke – alone, terrified, and in agony.

Exiting the hallway Rum saw, behind a counter to his front and right, a human woman, clothed in a white dress with a pink bowtie. He glanced left of her, and saw there a half-circle of comfy luxurious chairs. A single patient there, a male elf of the Olam variant, sat with a swollen foot resting in his lap. He was a younger, and much slightly less pompous-looking than Rum. As Rum briefly stared, he felt just a tiny hint of superiority-by-greater-pomposity comparing the two of them, though this feeling lasted for but one curious, tiny little indulgent moment. He turned to the nurse, who met him with the widest of practiced smiles.

"I would like an appointment with Doctor Sharam" the wizard-in-disguise stated. She nodded at him and looked into an appointment book.

"You are in luck!" she exclaimed, apparently happy on his behalf. She tilted her head. "May I ask your name, lord?"

Lord? I am no lord, woman. But perhaps you don't need to know that. Not today at least. Today I'll let you believe as much as I require.

"My name is Rum."

"Rum?" she asked, her face ever so slightly frowning with puzzlement.

He suppressed reacting at her tone. Of course that doesn't sound very noble-like, he nearly facepalmed at himself. He couldn't do that though, so instead he maintained a neutral, emotionless expression, as thoughts swirled. This name... my parents really make me feel like the most unfortunate surprise child, in the most dysfunctional family, found in poorest streets of The Raven's Slum. Rum did actually know why he'd been given that name, though he wasn't about to share the fact with anyone. Not even his own mind, as he repressed the memory before it could surface.

"Yes" he simply said, trying to keep his dignity, "that is my name."

The nurse looked at him awkwardly, but as seconds passed, her smile returned and she seemed to have forgotten whatever thoughts had been going on in her head. "Well, Lord Rum, as I said, you are in luck today. Doctor Sharam has no more appointments for an hour at least. Do you wish to see the esteemed doctor right now?"

"Yes, that would be nice." Rum's lips drew a little smile of their own. Noticing his own expression, Rum wondered briefly if those lips of hers had been enchanted to produce this ability to spread her outward sentiment onto others. Nah, that's a too strange and unlikely scenario. She moved around the counter and stepped in front of him, waving a soft hand for him to follow her, down another overly decorated hallway and into a room. A room unlike the others, because here almost every surface was wood, and all of it glistening too. Around the space, various plants stood on top of shelves, with some standing along a window, and further more standing right next to a magnificently large and curved desk. On the opposite side of this desk sat what Rum presumed to be the doctor. A smoking, wide, gold-lined cigar stood straight out from barely visible lips. A white coat surrounded the figure who puffed it. He, the doctor, was an above average-sized dwarf, and in fact a rather beautiful specimen. His hair was dark blond, half-long, and well combed. His beard and moustache were cut short for efficiency. Though his eyes contrasted with the rest of his appearance, wearing big round glasses causing them to appear at ridiculous proportions. If it wasn't for those, Rum thought, the shorter bulkier man in front of him would've looked quite handsome. As the doctor tilted upwards from a stack of old paper on his desk, Rum couldn't help but also notice a large golden-yellow bowtie at the dwarf's neck, cementing an aura of wealth that'd otherwise permeated every wall of the building.

"Now, who is this one?" the dwarf doctor said in a deep, pleasant, but authoritative voice, reaching for his cigar to extinguish it in a tray along the window.

The nurse bowed so low that her behavior looked borderline ridiculous. Although Rum felt much the same about all forms of bowing. To him, such games of humility felt entirely unnatural. Like people are surrendering their self-worth, that was how he best could describe his unease with it. Something about submitting to hierarchy just stirred up general worry in him.

"This Lord Rum wishes to consult the esteemed doctor" the nurse answered, still not pulling up from her bow. The dwarf grabbed the stack of papers in front of him, putting it all collectively to one side, then folded his hands looking straight up into Rum's eyes.

"What seems to be the issue, Lord Rum? Can't recall having you here before." As soon as the dwarf had spoken the nurse rose up and silently stepped back, presumably heading for the reception. THUD! Rum turned and noticed she'd closed a wooden door he hadn't even known to be there. He and the dwarf were now alone.

Rum returned his eyes back to the dwarf. "I recently suffered an arrow to the lungs" he began. "With healing magic I've been able to heal most of it, but it seems the spells haven't been able to deal with it entirely. I'm still suffering from what I believe to be a myriad of very tiny damages to my insides." He gestured with fingers at his chest. "The damages have recently begun disturbing my sleep, and in the day they keep me drained of stamina. I don't know how to fix this, and so I seek the aid of a skilled healer. I've been told you're among the best."

The dwarf nodded along. When Rum was finished, the dwarf gave him a brief linger look, before he stood up, and slowly walked around the table. "Alright, I understand." His feet eventually rounded the corner, and he came to stand in front of the wounded wizard. He lay eyes across Rum with an analytic intensity, weighing and calculating him. "You prefer it straight to the point I see? Good" he said, looking at Rum's chest, "makes this all easier. You believe there may be tissue scars at work?" His eyes went up to meet Rum's again. "That's what is sounds like to me. Damaged organ tissue that won't heal properly. I've worked successfully with cases like that before, and I could help you with it."

"Great!" Rum beamed. The dwarf didn't beam back. Instead he put his hands behind his back and started slowly walking back and forth in front of Rum.

"Of course the solution I have in mind is likely to be a difficult procedure, Lord Rum. I will need to consult with my great apothecarian friend Irvanir The Bright, she's a superb elf operating down near the City Forest. She can make a healing salve that is likely to help with your particular issue. It is very potent stuff that you can't get many other places. Of course I will also have to consult with my colleague Doctor Morvan, a fellow dwarf. He's a surgeon who specializes in these kind of intricate operations. Yes" he said, nodding to himself, "all in all, I can help you with this issue of yours. Though I'll need to take a proper look at you myself first" he turned to Rum and stepped up him, "in order to ascertain that we have the right diagnosis here." The dwarf paused, putting his hands to his beard, and massaged his chin thinkingly. "Have you sorted out payment with my nurse yet, Lord Rum? I'm afraid this sort of problem can be quite expensive to solve, seeing as we'll need three of Ermos' finest healers for the issue."

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Rum couldn't help but notice the dwarf included himself in that sentence. Humility is for others it seems. But payment, hmm... that's the topic I've been dreading most. He had been hoping that he might just use Self-Running Legs to escape the bill once the fix had taken place, leaving behind his share of the money from the loot, in order to cover what part of the expenses he could afford, and which was reasonable to pay. This plan had seemed to be working right up until about now. But maybe it can still work?

"Yes I have. But what kind of payment – purely out of curiosity – are we looking at here?"

"Oh" the dwarf thought to himself, massaging his chin some more. "Hmm. I'll have to double check, but for a rough estimate, I think it'll be around 460 gold?"

Rum had never been much worried about money, but when he'd received his three gold and 50 silver after giving White Rose ze's share, he'd felt almost rich.Now this dwarf wanted way above 100 times what he had, and he felt dirt poor comparing the two numbers. Rum managed to not express his poverty in any way though, and just nodded along, like 460 gold was the most normal sum of money in the world, and not 4.6 MILLION COPPER COINS!

"Good then. Let's have a see, shall we?"

The next fifteen minutes the dwarf studied Rum thoroughly. Even casting spells on him intended to study his condition, and to evaluate the medical narrative they'd been starting with. In the end the dwarf confirmed most of Rum's suspicions. He had a significant amount of scarred tissue, which would need a magically enhanced healing salve to overcome the scarring, and a quite skilled surgeon's hands in order to perfectly administer the concoction. Rum was asked to come back later to arrange the time and the place for the operation, and so, it all appeared to be over – for now.

Rum walked out of Doctor Sharam's building. Once outside, he cast a glance back, and halted there, eyeing the artwork as he thought. Never will I be able to get 460 gold, or 4.6 million copper. Never. And even if I could, how could such an amount ever be reasonable? I can't go on like this either though. I can't have a malfunctioning lung. He pondered, as eyes stared aimlessly at the building. I will have to go a step further than escape. His multiple thoughts gradually coalesced onto an idea. A singular will. They will discover I have no money before the operation can take place. I will have to find a way to use the skills of Doctor Sharam, without the interference of his paywall.

Rum stood in the middle of the street, a deep expression of thought on his face, as his clothes still displayed its sight of pompousity.

There is no choice here. Rum raised a hand at the construction of marble and art. If I ask them for help – and I can never imagine such people granting aid freely – then they will know it was me for sure, if I ever try to force help. Thus, this is the only way. He reached out with his magical self, out across the streets his self poured, in through the entrance, in down the first hallway, passed the oblivious receptionist's counter and waiting room, down through the next hallway, and into a doctor's office. There Rum's magical self spread to out to find the dwarf, the physician, The Great Sharam.

Eyes closed, in focus, the wizard whispered a spell, heard by noone else in the middle of an empty street. "Mana Ghost."

At the other end the dwarf collapse instantly on top of his desk. Rum extracted the dwarf's mana ghost, an intricate process at first, then it went out swiftly, and through a trail of magic, the ghost rushed back through the hallways and waiting room and entrance and all the way into the street and up, up, up – into him. Reaching Rum, the ghost of mana swirled up along his arm, over his shoulder, around his neck, settling into his forehead. Panicked shouts and yells could be heard from the receptionist inside who must have noticed the magic trail in the air and come across the collapsed dwarf. Rum wasn't worried though, the dwarf's unconsciousness was just the body's brief shock response to having its essences copied, and the dwarf, having collapsed in an ideal position, would be fine in a few minutes. Like they always had been. At least so far, Rum mentally noted.

One done, two more to go. He put the first doctor out of his mind as an optimism overcame him, with the hope that soon – soon he could sleep again. Sleep soundly. Soon, he would find his cure.

A little unwell from the morning's nightmare, and perhaps a bit lazy, Rum cast Self-Running Legs on hismelf. Quickly, his legs absorbed the command, and off he went, down the streets at a fast pace, aiming for The City Forest – for the homes of the wood elves. Really, who needs exercise, when they can just order their body into shape? Rum rounded the corners of city blocks, one after the other and expeditiously. Wait – my lungs aren't properly working today. Why did I just ask my legs to run all the way? Can I even run that far? He had just come down from the northern-most part of the city of Ermos, and passed the inner city gates to reach the outer metropole, when he realized he may not survive the journey.

His legs were not bothered by such thoughts though, and less than half an hour thereafter, they arrived at their designated destination. They jogged into a wide open dirt street, with wooden houses on either side seemingly overrun by climbing plants and grassy rooftops. Above the legs, a torso hang loose like a corpse on horseback, dangling left and right with the motions, the brain of the body totally unconscious from oxygen deprivation. As the legs arrived at the end of the street they halted. There, torso, head, legs, and everything else momentarily ceased all motion, before slowly, legs began that bend, and the whole of the body simply tipped over, falling onto dirt.

Minutes passed, and for all that time, the wizard called Rum merely lay there, unconscious to everything, as his form maintained the overall shape of a boiled shrimp, with curious elves staring at him from afar, wondering if he be dead.

A finger twitched, then another, and suddenly three women's voices gasped in succession. Rum opened his eyes, and as a first act of consciousness attempted to stretch his legs as best he could, undoing his shrimpy bend. Straining against his soreness, he managed eventually to stretch out, and rolled over to lie on his back. Hazy eyes stared up at the sky, while zoned out ears ignored the voices a few meters away.

"Should I go see the human?" A woman spoke. Through the general background noise of the city, and a few carriages and wagons moving past him in both directions, Rum couldn't hear exactly what the woman got in reply, but he managed to guess at it, as soon enough his sky-sight was abruptly blocked by a blond, pointy-eared, busty woman, in a patched cheap green dress, and with a bronze necklace hanging from her neck.

"You well human?"

Rum tried breaking through his hazy mind. "nnn… nyeeeaah."

"Do you need anything? Water perhaps?" The elf woman looked on with maternal worry.

"Nnnh… nh-sure." The elf woman strode off, and Rum got to stare at the fine blue sky once more. Time was inching towards sundown, he noticed.

The elf woman came back with a small jug of water, and kneeled down in front of him. "Now" she said, "if you can sit up, we might avoid spilling. Or would you perhaps like that I give it to you, while you lie down?"

Rum querried his muscles for capacity.. He got a weak reply back, indicating it was not outside the range of possibilities, but that sitting would likely pose a challenge. Still, he tried. Initially those tries consisted of attempting to use his less tired back muscles and arms to sling his torso up into a sitting position. This exercise looked rather dumb as he failed and fell back down, multiple times. Eventually he fumbled with his left arm after the elf woman's hand. "Nnnh-help." The woman put the jug aside. She gently grasped Rum's shoulders, and helped him up into a sitting position, whereupon Rum decided to lean extra forward, afraid that his exhausted legs would give away and he'd fall back down again. While in that position, the woman placed the jug at his lips, and he drank heartily, in-between exhausted breaths.

"That's good." She used her robe's sleeves to dry Rum's mouth. "What's your name, and what brings you here in such a hurry?"

Rum breathed heavily a couple of times, before a bit of normalcy overcame him. "I'm looking for Irvanir The Bright." His breath strained a bit more after that, but otherwise he was starting to be okay, from above his waist at least. "Have you heard of her?"

The elf put her head to one side and thought out loud, mumbling the name. "Irvanir, Irvanir… The Bright?" She stood up and walked back whence she'd come. Now that Rum was no longer staring up at the sky he could see where that was. Out on a veranda and in front of one of the buildings were three massive wooden chairs, surrounding a small wooden table, on top of which was a glass bottle of yellow-greenish liquid. Sitting in two of the chairs was a duo of other elven women, both blond, but wearing separately purple and orange patched dresses. The woman with the purple dress also had a wide sun-shielding hat in matching color. Rum's green-dressed elven savior sat next to her friends and chatted with them intensely for a minute. After that, she got up again and walked back into the dirt street, over towards Rum, who was starting to improve. As she arrived, she squatted next to him, her jug of water in hand. She offered Rum another sip, and he accepted.

"We haven't heard of this elf Irvanir The Bright. But what is your name?"

"Rum" he steadied himself, and managed to lift his knees and turn over so that he was kneeling in front of her. "And you?"

"Luvin" she smiled warmly. "Good luck finding that elf, Rum."

Luvin walked back to her friends and the wizard spent a few more minutes recovering. Then, he decided that it was time to get back up on his feet. He stumbled a bit forward, but caught himself. For a moment, he tried to just stand perfectly still. He sighed heavily, but gradually he was able to straighten his back, and take a step forward that didn't look like a daydrinker.

"Where could you be Irvanir?" The question was aimed at nobody, or maybe he was hoping some passerby would hear him and return an answer. None came though.

Turning around to look over at The City Forest, he saw three enormous trees peaking out from it, the nearest of which was only a couple of hundred meters or so away. Along the tree going upwards were a few dozen or so buildings or houses on the outside, the entrances to the houses presumably inside the tree. In-between the houses one could also see window-holes, while three to four terraces per tree allowed for small gatherings with a view, or a spacious lonesome gaze out across the city. The most interesting thing about wood elf architecture, however, was that this was all magic. The wood itself had been shaped by magic, and not cut into planks or carved into holes. Wood elves morphed the trees, forcing interior wood to surface outside and form their houses and terraces, while the openings, like the window-holes, came as the result of an empty interior. So magnificent, so beautiful. Rum admired the view from afar. In all his years living in Ermos City before, he'd never faced an opportunity to be here and study these wonders himself. Not even on his six years journey had he come across whole communities of wood elves living their culturally particular arboreal way of life. It was said that the wood elves of Ermos City were some of the last of their species, after the dungeon lords wiped out many of their communities in the now-named Desolate Lands. There were wood elven communities living south, south-west and south-east of The Desolate Lands, but all the known communities were rather small as far as Rum knew, and while there'd been rumors of a great city of wood elves deep within a vast forest to the south and east, they were just rumors. If the city existed, it was effectively sealed off from the world, and so to the world, The City Forest was the only large urban area of wood elves, formed by the united communities of thise who escaped many decades ago.

Rum stumbled forward towards The City Forest proper. He didn't know exactly where to go. Sharam had said Irvanir The Bright lived near The City Forest. Considering the size of The City Forest however, that left a huge circumference of city to potentially explore. All Rum knew for certain was that The Bright was an elf, and a woman, one of who-knows-how-many thousands living around this place. Also she was an apothecarian. That should narrow it down, but mostly only if the community knows what she's doing. But would they though? If she's focused on rich clients?

Rum stopped walking. He looked back over at the three elven women, and instead strolled, and at least once stumbled, over to their table.

"Luvin?" The woman look back at him as he approached. "Do you know where I could ask about Irvanir The Bright? I haven't been here before" he gestured to The City Forest, "and don't really know where to get started."

Luvin's eyes went up towards the sky while she thought for a moment. Before she could find a response though, her orange-dressed friend beat her to it. "What about the Committee of The Pine? They should probably be able to help the human."

The two other elves glanced at their orange friend. Then they all collectively started cloud gazing, their mouths variably humming with thoughts.

"What do you know about this elf, Irvanir The Bright?" the purple-dressed asked.

"Only her name, that she's an apothecary, and that she lives near The City Forest. So probably not inside it."

"An apothecary?" the same elf raised her eyebrow, before brightening up with an idea. "Ah. The Committee of The Oak! That's where he should go. The Oak Committee has their tree closer to the city wall. The tree of the Committee of The Pine is too close to the center of our forest."

"But the Pine people are so many!" The orange-dressed elf objected. "And the Oak Committee so small!"

"What about the Committee of The Spruce?" Offered Luvin, and her two friends frowned deeply.

"The Committee of The Spruce are too strange" The elf of orange waved the suggestion off with disapproval. "This human wouldn't want to associate with them!"

"But–" Luvin replied, "–they know many humans. Remember all the parties they've had in their tree? Remember when they lead 300 humans up there, and drank and played with them for three days straight? They must know a lot of humans if they could get that many. And if our human is looking for an elf, it's probably an elf who has contact with humans."

"But reeeally" the orange elf grimaced at the idea, "they are so… awkward. We don't want to be sending him to them!"

"Look, the both of you" Luvin seized control of the discussion, "the Pine Committee hardly knows much about humans. The Oak Committee trades with humans, true! But they mostly stick to themselves. A third of their board are wild gnomes for the gods' sake! If anyone would have a connection with this human, it'd probably be the Committee of The Spruce."

Purple elf turned over to Rum, who'd been watching them silently. "Human, which one sounds best, do you think?"

Rum considered it for a second. Whether it was because she'd come to his aid, or perhaps it was because she was indeed the one making the most sense, either way Rumlooked to Luvin, the elf in green. "I guess this Committee of The Spruce you speak of. I'll try them out."

Purple elf nodded with acceptance, orange elf kept a skeptical look on her face, while Luvin produced a small smile of triumph. "Well, walk up to the north side of The City Forest" Luvin began explaining, "when you see the northern-most great tree there, walk about fifteen minutes' westwards just south of it. When you get there, you should be able to spot a great tree whose trunk and boughs have been painted in… well, every way really. Every few months they do a new paint job on that tree, and it's been receiving half-finished paint jobs for decades. The Committee of The Spruce like their colors. Their members' formal wear is bright yellow robes with blue stripes–"

"–a horrible sight" the orange-dressed elf interjected.

"It's quite something, yes." Luvin continued. "They also really like lemon juice. Growing lemons and making lemon juice is a favorite pastime of theirs. If you see any lemon juice bar suddenly appear between a couple of bushes somewhere: know that you're in the right neighborhood."

"Oh, okay." Rum nodded, trying to imagine what kind of elves these were exactly. He doubted his mental image was correct though. Something told him he was missing some information.

Guess I'll have to go and find out.