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The same woman who stopped my the wild elf pops out of the kitchen as you knock on the door frame. He is holding a tray of five turtle sheels upside down, steaming hot with soup and the best smell you've ever smelt. A group of five glases and a bottle of wine also sits on her tray.
"This be fer you and yer party. If'n ye want to take this off my hands, feel free. Jus' bring the tray back, 'kay luv?"
She hands you the heavy wood tray and wipes her hands on her apron.
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"Ah-ha, The Moon Maiden is greatly revered here in Gothmoor." Rek'lyr says rubbing his chin. He looks to his silent friend and he slightly nods. Rek'lyr looked back to Zarraema and smiles. "In case you haven't noticed, None of the Bitch Queen's spiders dare set foot in the blessed City of Shadows. Her son and the Moon maiden are two of the many Gods and Goddesses that Gothmoor Dark Elves have found a home with. The city itself has no Houses to speak of. There is but only one house. House Gothmoor." Rek'lyr takes a moment to sip his wine, licks his lips before continuing. His eyes never leaves yours.
"As for the greeting? Get used to saying it. All dark elves who left the Bug Queen's underground hiding hole, and sought a new life on the surface, find their way here. Those who did, cherish two things most in their new life here...."
The other dark elf whispers aloud, looking off into space, almost lost in bad memories. ".....Freedom....and Honor."
Rek'lyr looks back to you with a smile , seeing you now understand. "I take it you didn't give the greeting back to any dark elf who said it to you. This is the quickest way to find clerics of the Dirt Queen's clergy. If you do not repeat the greeting to a dark elf who offers it first, you commit as great an offense as slapping a noble in public...from old times. I would...suggest not toying with the idea of refusing the greeting. I could get...ugly." Rek'lyr tries to find the nicest way to say the warning without offending and yet, not being too vague.