"That's enough!" The dwarfen delegate screamed as he jumped to his feet. Everyone tensed up, except for the person responsible for making this dwarf red in the face, the elven delegate.
The dwarf was one more insult away from drawing his weapon, a mighty hammer seven times the elves size, and beating said elf to a pulp. But the elf who seemed oblivious to the grave situation sat on his stool across the dwarf with his legs crossed and a smirk on his lips.
The other remaining people in the room weren't sure if the elf knew what was going to happen if he threw another insult.
Dwarves were creatures of the forge and trusted magic as far as they could throw it, which is to say not very far. But this didn't mean that they were against enchantments, no, they were only wary of the casters of spells. And as a protective measure most dwarfen weapons were imbued with the ability to knock out residual magic from anything it touches, even sprites, —which were just pure magic— were affected by this enchantment without being killed.
Now elves were a special specie, one truly deserving to be in a class of their own. They were ninety percent magic and ten percent pompous bastards. It had of course been proven scientifically, multiple times, and over many years.
And this elf was indeed no different from the rest. If he was hit, even once, by this dwarf's weapon, it would surely have knocked out his magic side and the dwarfs anger would have laid waste to the remaining pompous bastard left.
The dwarfs chest rose and fell and his breath was heavy. The elf opened his mouth to speak once more and the dwarf grabbed the handle of his weapon.
The elves eyes grew wide and his face drained of blood, then filled back with it again. His whole body was in disarray, he shivered yet sweat cascaded off his forehead and rolled down the side of his face before dropping to the ground and causing tiny flowers to sprout —in full bloom— where they landed. His mouth hung open and his lips quivered. The delegate from Gronia leaned over and pushed the elves mouth closed, snapping him back to reality and shrink away from the table.
"It seems like we are done here," the dwarf said extracting himself from the table " I like the way the meeting went overall and would like for the next meeting to be held in Zyundme." He looked at everyone at the table, very carefully avoiding the eyes of the elf, soliciting a small nod of approval from all of them, except the elf.
He stood at ease once more, no longer in a mood for battle, "Very well, you will receive a letter very soon which will inform you of where it take place." He bowed slightly "Now out will excuse me I'll be taking my leave." He turned and marched out of the room through the double doors.
The Gronia delegate stood up, proclaimed his intention of leaving before slipping out of the of the room behind the dwarf. The elf got up, mumbled something and then was swallowed by a plant. The plant withdrew and he was gone.
The two kings that remained turned to themselves and stared for a while. Derul spoke first
"Well that was..."
"Eventful."
"Yeah, I mean, who knew it would turn out like this?"
"I guess I'll see you at the next meeting."
"Yeah, and maybe this time the dwarfen king would show his face, cause, you know, he's hosting." He stood up.
Flynn stood up too "I'll see you later old friend,"
Derul laughed and walked out of the room leaving Flynn to his own thoughts.
