The stranger was tall, easily over six feet when stood straight. Glimpses of white blonde hair could be seen below his hood, along with a youthful pale complexion which confirmed him as being undoubtedly an elf. The question still remained, was he the elf they were looking for?
“We leave immediately,” he stated purposefully. “I suggest you gather your belongings. Dwarf! Do not dawdle in your gathering of the food. If you’re not ready, then I’ll leave you behind.”
“I’ll take no orders from elf!” blasted Tumbor, yet making his way to gather up his bed roll.
“And I’ll not be slowed by a rotund short legged dwarf.”
Tumbor was beginning to become more flush in the cheeks, his fists becoming more clenched by the insults of the elf. “Have no fear elf, I’ll match your stride.”
“Of that I seriously doubt. The amount of food stashed in those pockets of yours, they are like saddle bags on an ass!”
With that last insult the dwarf snapped, cursing in dwarven he made an attempted lunge towards the elf. Before he’d even moved an arrow was pointing at him from a loaded bow.
“Gentlemen please,” interjected Jax. “Are we not supposed to be on the same side? Fighting the same common enemy?”
“If your life depended on it fighter, which side would you align?” asked the elf still keeping his bow trained upon the now motionless dwarf.
“You have us outnumbered, but then I have known Tumbor here longer, albeit by a day or so.”
The elf smiled as he lowered his bow, slinging it back over his shoulder. “There was only me, but I would have clean struck you all before you realised.”
“Now of that I do not doubt,” Jax replied with a smile of his own.