Disclaimer: Places and most characters are © Dragonlance.
In the Inn of the Last Home, the moderately famous inn in the treetop town of Solace, there were often non-human patrons. So, naturally, a half-elf wouldn't occasion much comment; neither would a dwarf. However, the sight of a half-elf and a dwarf companionably playing draughts together wasn't at all common, so there were occasional stares in the direction of Flint Fireforge and Tanis Half-Elven.
They were quite a pair to look at. The dwarf, like all his kind, was short and stocky, his thick legs not able to reach the floor from his seat. Standing, Flint was about four and a half feet tall. His hair (and the long thick beard prized by his kind) was originally a sooty black; now it is liberally sprinkled with gray hairs. The half-elf, on the other hand, looked only about as old as a human in his early twenties, despite his actual age of fifty-eight. His hair was a rusty brownish-red, and his eyes were hazel and slightly slanted. An inch or two shy of six feet, Tanis was more muscled than his elf kin, but not barrel-chested at all.
Flint lifted a tankard of beer and took a long swig, apparently considering his next move. He already knew where he was going to move, but he wanted to make his half-elf friend impatient. Tanis, used to the peppery dwarf's attempts to discomfort him when they had money riding on the outcome of a game, calmly sipped his own ale and waited. Flint's stubby dwarven fingers gripped one of his markers and moved it once, twice, and thrice. His triple-jump left Tanis with only two cornered men. The half-elf laughed, throwing up his hands in defeat.
"Pay up, lad!" Flint crowed, rubbing his hands together in glee and then holding out his right hand.
Tanis pulled three coppers out of his belt pouch and passed them to the dwarf, trying not to grin. He'd let Flint win this time; the dwarf was always happy when he won a wager. Of course, happy for Flint meant grumbling into his beard, but Tanis was used to that, too. They were setting the board up for another game when the door to the Inn was thrown open, and a human female came in, a cold gust of almost-winter air coming in with her. She blinked for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the bright illumination in the Inn after night outside. Then she pointed what was apparently a hoopak at Tanis and Flint's table and crowed happily:
"There you are! Finally! I asked around here, and they told me you'd gone off with a friend to buy something in Haven and were expecting to winter over there. So I set out for Haven. Then, in a little village nearly to Haven, I hear you'd passed through two weeks ago: going back to Solace, so I assume the business trip ended early. Only now I was all the way out there and had to turn back. But I finally caught up with you!" Except for the initial exclamations, this speech was delivered in an excited, breathy tone. The voice was well enough, with the slight rolling of R's.
Flint and Tanis swiveled their heads in unison on 'there you are!', instinctively grabbing for weapons. Their grips loosened, though, as it became obvious that despite pointing something that was technically a weapon at them, the woman didn't mean to attack. Besides which, it was only one woman, and she didn't look at all like a warrior.
The woman was in her late teens or early twenties. She was middling height for a human, at a little over five and a half feet. Hair such a deep auburn as to be nearly black was tied in a no-nonsense braid, reaching down to slightly below her rear. Violet eyes sparkled from under slightly bushy arched brows, set off by creamy skin. The woman's clothes, under a heavy cloak she shed at the door, were practical. Fitted calfskin breeches dyed a dark russet went down into brown leather boots, trimmed with rabbit fur. A gray linen shirt had wide sleeves on the upper arm, tapering down to almost skintight on the forearm. A row of small buttons on the outer part of the forearm secured each sleeve. Over top of the shirt went a padded leather jerkin, which somewhat obscured the woman's figure. The final piece of her outfit was a wide leather belt, with a few small knives and two pouches hung from it.
Looking her over as she was speaking, Flint's eyes took on an amused glint. When she finished her little speech and started to make her way over to their table, Flint leaned over and muttered archly to Tanis:
"Friend of yours, lad?"
Tanis colored slightly. True, he was handsome enough that there were always some women around willing to bed someone who was only half-human, but he'd never given them the nod. And he'd never expected one to become so infatuated as to tail him for several weeks. As Tanis was trying to come up with a reasonable response, the girl reached them.
"Flint Fireforge, you grumpy old dwarf, it's been ages!" Leaning her hoopak against the table and slinging her pack under it without so much as a by-your-leave, the woman shocked them both by pulling Flint out of his chair and into a bear hug.
Flint, caught by surprise, turned even redder than Tanis had and started sputtering in confusion. Tanis grinned in relief that it wasn't him the woman had been trailing; then, when he caught the utterly flabbergasted expression on his friend's face, he broke into whoops of laughter. The woman set Flint back down. Tanis, calming himself, managed to ask between chuckles:
"Friend of yours, Flint?"