"Not too fond of our scaly friends, are you?" He laughs. "Perhaps it's for the best. If you're going to drink as much as you say you are, it may be a good idea to stay away from their fiery ends."
Alcohol and dragon breath do not mix and oh, does he knows that firsthand. Trying to do work in a lab with young dragonets around was a good way to ensure all your chemicals got set on fire and all your research went up in smoke. But that had only been one of several reasons he'd started to keep his studies a secret from the rest of his people, away from the prying eyes of dragons and other eliatropes.
The innkeeper comes over with a bottle of something dark and ambery and pours Apollo out a glass of it, placing it on the table before her. After a moment's hesitation, he decides to just leave the bottle too. Qilby nods his thanks (with maybe a hint of an apologetic smile) and the elf leaves them. He gives Apollo a moment to get some of the drink in her before he speaks again.
"The night elves have much to gain from an alliance with our flight. Powerful dragons, seasoned Blacksworn, a sense of security," he says, holding up his hand to keep count of the reasons on his fingers. "All important when the other flights have so suddenly, inexplicably decided to turn against them in wake of the events at Sin'thalas. They're such a small settlement that really, we're their last defense against a world suddenly full of a host of new enemies."
Technically, he's still smiling-- but there's something a little cold about it now. It doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I suppose it's a little fortuitous for us that it's worked out that way, wouldn't you agree?"
no subject
Alcohol and dragon breath do not mix and oh, does he knows that firsthand. Trying to do work in a lab with young dragonets around was a good way to ensure all your chemicals got set on fire and all your research went up in smoke. But that had only been one of several reasons he'd started to keep his studies a secret from the rest of his people, away from the prying eyes of dragons and other eliatropes.
The innkeeper comes over with a bottle of something dark and ambery and pours Apollo out a glass of it, placing it on the table before her. After a moment's hesitation, he decides to just leave the bottle too. Qilby nods his thanks (with maybe a hint of an apologetic smile) and the elf leaves them. He gives Apollo a moment to get some of the drink in her before he speaks again.
"The night elves have much to gain from an alliance with our flight. Powerful dragons, seasoned Blacksworn, a sense of security," he says, holding up his hand to keep count of the reasons on his fingers. "All important when the other flights have so suddenly, inexplicably decided to turn against them in wake of the events at Sin'thalas. They're such a small settlement that really, we're their last defense against a world suddenly full of a host of new enemies."
Technically, he's still smiling-- but there's something a little cold about it now. It doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I suppose it's a little fortuitous for us that it's worked out that way, wouldn't you agree?"