Authors’ Note: For this tale that we are contriving, we are going to be using the terms “Halfling” and “Hobbit” interchangeably, as we know that the Halflings of D&D were originally based off of Tolkien’s work. However, our story has nothing to do whatsoever with Middle-earth. We figured we ought to address this matter straight away, as we expect there will be many an inquiry otherwise.

Prologue

Halflings are among the best-off races of the world- they supply the most basic needs of agriculture. Food, house, and home. They ruled in a peaceful democracy until centuries later, when negotiations were made among the elder kin. They did not appreciate being away from their families, drinking, food, and fun. One of the Halflings used a high amount of diplomacy, and perhaps, intimidation, suggesting that a monarch take to the throne and rule solo. Daring as the Halfling was, he disappeared after the fateful meeting, never to be seen again. Thus the Foxtrot dynasty began.

About five years after the regime began, a Paladin entered Drémeadow, now the common tongue for the Halfling palace. Chaos unknown had spread throughout the kingdom in absence of the outside world. After all, the Halflings were never meant for monarchy, the simple and carefree folk preferring food, house, and family. Many feelings were on edge. The old folk and devoted youth stood behind the Halfling Foxtrot, who seemed to spread wronged values- greed, power, and fortune. Those of the younger generation sought to preserve old Halfling traditions of unlimited joy and celebration.

Then, not a week after the Paladin arrived, all seemed to fall. It was during the usual Pre-New Year’s Banquet. The queen proposed a toast, before drinking to her death. The queen collapsed, and the king was fearful, and reckless. He extended his finger to the most unlikely of suspects. “Paladin! How dare you! You enter my kingdom, we grant you hospitality, and you take my wife’s breath and heartbeat! Leave at once!

The Paladin, astonished, looked at the king, pleading his innocence for the crime he did not commit. He got to his feet.

“Good Highness!” said the warrior of valor. “I would take my own neck before slaying the Lady! Her Majesty is the fairest one of all!

This was the moment where the king’s foolishness paid him dearly. Most of the guests challenged, for they knew the Paladin and his noble Code. The king ordered an attack on all of the supporters. The brave Paladin protected the innocent lives, fleeing for justice.

Thenceforth, there was a divide- those who stood for the Paladin and his codes formed a rebellion. Those with the king ruled under the sinister green eyes of Jarmir Esteel and his court of Evil. The corrupt king claimed dominion over the Halfling lands.

Chapter 1

It was not a common occurrence, what was transpiring this very night! A single humanoid creature was passing through the gate of the rather decrepit inn in this remote village some small distance to the south of the now well-known land of Drémeadow and covering the path to the principal entrance with a short stride and quick, trot-like pace. The individual in question looked as though it was a young adult Halfling- or hobbit, as the inhabitants of Drémeadow dubbed themselves. Whatever the name, the lady of very wavy chestnut hair falling to just below her wideset shoulders, and light brown eyes, definitely was one. She was tall by the standards of her race and not very chubby- although there was an aspect to her physique that betrayed a former hefty girth. It was not as though a Halfling were never to be seen in this part of the world, but as of late they had greatly increased in number in the local population. However, Xenia- for that was her name- rarely departed from the confines of the humble cottage she had purchased when she had appeared in the village nigh on five years ago. She was undeniably a recluse, and very few of the villagers bothered initiating an exchange with she who was clearly not an interesting one anyhow. In fact, those aware of the hermit's presence were a scarcity.

The hobbit Xenia was relieved to find the inn virtually devoid of life, save for a few couple of individuals scattered about the vicinity. It seemed as though everybody present simply intended to mind their own affairs. She gave a small sum of money to the innkeeper for a room, conveniently pretending not to hear the innkeeper’s inquiry about what precisely brought a denizen of the vicinity to requesting a room as though she had travelled a long distance. If you only knew, the sombre-faced hobbit thought grimly.

Suddenly, it was as though something invisible were prickling upon the nape of Xenia’s neck. Perplexed, she surveyed the room. Who could be watching her? Only two caught her attention. The first was a very beautiful elf-woman who seemed positively radiant with charisma. The elf was thoroughly unaffected by the comings and goings of others, occupied with what seemed to be magically altering her drink. The other was a man dressed in attire that could be marked from leagues away as that of a paladin. This man- he was the one staring at her! Glaring might be a better word… Xenia amended. He seemed to be regarding her with what could only be deemed antipathy. How queer. She had never seen this paladin in her life; why would he look askance upon her thus? Opting to ignore the unfriendly gaze, Xenia boldly walked over to the elf to do what she rarely did- initiate a conversation. The elf was not of the land, nor anywhere near Drémeadow as far as Xenia conjectured.

The elf looked up as Xenia ambled over, and placed her beverage upon the table. She was rather taken aback by the bold approach of this youngster, but she could think of much worse individuals who would draw near to her than this Halfing, whom she appraised with a cocked brow and an expression of the utmost superiority. Tilting her head downward in the direction of the small girl, she inquired, voice melodic, soft and succulently sweet as honey in spite of the supercilious aspect to her mien, “May I help you?” help, especially, was said with a sort of care to it, as though she had made an offer of a positively laudable favor, whatever answer might come from the “little girl’s” mouth.

The contempt was not lost upon the Halfling; however, Xenia elected to act as though she had not marked the arrogance. She preferred excessive pride to unfriendly beams emitted by the Paladin. Banishing indignation to the closets, Xenia simply asked, “What’s that you’re drinking there?” with a flourishing wave towards the drink. She knew full well it was some sort of alcohol, but asking was an excellent means of sparking a conversation with a stranger unknown.

The elf tossed her hair, sending locks of ebony flying in every direction. Ebony seemed to be the general theme to this elven woman. her eyes reselbled a pair of shimmering coals, and her skin was uncannily dusky. She wore very little clothing- in fact, her ensemble was like straps oriented strategically in various directions all over her willowy physiognomy. The necessary parts were concealed from view, but Xenia knew that regardless, should a male figure present himself in the room, his eyes would be drawn by the subtle power of her natural magic. Except the Paladin, of course. “I drink elven wine.”

Well, I might have known, Xenia berated herself. Naturally, the elf would partake of drinks standard to her race. Then again, she, Xenia, was more accustomed to ale, beer, and the occasional mead. Wine was a rarity for the hobbits, as it was quite an inebriating substance for their diminutive bodies. But then again, who knew with elven wine? Perhaps it was less intoxicating than the products of mannish, drawven, or gnomish hands, as was the liquor most commonly to be found in Drémeadow. Xenia pondered, “I’ve never had elven wine.” Even at her stature, it had not reached her lips, considering she had not been in Drémeadow for about five years.

The elf seemed astounded at the proclamation. There was something she could not imagine! “Do you wish to try some, Halfling?”

Xenia was once more very mildly narked by how she was addressed but smiled, shaking her head in the affirmative. The elven woman poured a goblet and waved her hands about it with a flourish. Light emanated from them and struck the beverage, causing copious amounts of steam to billow from the container. It smelled strongly of grapes and a wide array of other fruits. Xenia dubiously looked at the goblet, asking, “What are you doing?”

“Heating the wine to strengthen the flavor,” the elf informed the Halfling. Xenia smiled. Strong flavors were a very attractive prospect to any Halfling. She would drink, of course. Seizing the proffered beverage, the twenty-seven-year-old began. One sip. The flavor was primarily grape as suspected, but it seemed as though the essence of various other fruits were blended in. The warmth was soothing, massaging, sweet, and almost merited the adjective wholesome. Licking her lips, Xenia placed the now half-empty goblet up upon the counter with a “clunk” for a reprieve. She had to stand on tiptoe to even access the counter, for it better suited the height of a man. Suddenly, she remembered a necessity.

“I forgot my manners!” the mildly flustered hobbit exclaimed, holding out her right hand. “My name is Xenia, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She thought she detected a flurry of movement in her peripheral vision, but let it go for the time being.

The elf’s dainty hand closed about the smaller, slightly callused and dry one. Grimacing inwardly at the sensation, she responded, “I am called Kerry. Do you enjoy my wine?”

“Oh, yes!” Xenia responded, reaching for the container and procuring it with some difficulty, taking a few more swigs of the substance. “It’s positively delectable!”

Kerry smiled vaguely at the smaller creature, who seemed to be virtually inhaling her wine. Xenia took the last few swallows she had left of the drink. When finished, she smacked her lips in satisfaction and replaced the goblet in its location almost two feet above her head.

“You know, Halfling, if you desire to sit, the gnomes have placed stepladders over there for the use of the short folk,” Kerry said, gesturing toward where a fair selection of the said ladders were laid against the wall. They did not look very heavy at all, although they were long enough for a hobbit-sized person to access the stools at the bar. Taking the hint, Xenia traversed the tavern to fetch one and drag it over to the table.

Suddenly, she felt a hand laid upon her shoulder. Startling magnificently, Xenia whirled about, tilting her head upward. She found herself looking into the face of one of the strangest beings- no, the strangest being she had ever beheld in her entire twenty-seven years on Terra. Her light brown eyes could not veil her astonishment. Was this an elf or a hobbit like herself? The creature in question was like a Halfling, albeit a rather tall one, in that he had thick, curly brown hair and the same sort of hands and broad face. However, his features were not quite right, if hobbit he indeed was. His ears were quite pointed, for instance. His face was different, but not in a bad way- in fact, he was strikingly handsome. “Hello!” she chirped, a rare smile flitting on her face, all initial disquietude plainly forgotten. “I'm Xenia…”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are, my luscious lady.” His eyes roved over her as though a pair of lanterns endeavouring to mark an evasive target, pausing very obviously in two key spots. “I do believe you need some help. Those ladders are very heavy, especially for a delicate princess such as yourself.”

Xenia’s smile instantly evaporated and her dark eyebrows arced downward, a few lines in her forehead manifesting her offended feelings. Snatching the stepladder, which was indeed very lightweight, the hobbit flounced back across the room and ascended the steps to the seat neighbouring the awaiting elf. To her annoyance, the intriguing character called after her, “hey, there’s no cause for my beautiful lady to take umbrage!” but she ignored him.

The elf Kerry tilted her head inquiringly as Xenia rejoined her, the latter clearly steaming with indignation. One sweep of her black eyes from Halfling to the part-elf whom she, Kerry, had been unfortunate enough to encounter in the past gave the elven princess all of the information she required.

“That man,” she said in a voice dripping with contempt, “he is disgusting. He regards all women as though they are feeble playthings and whores.”

Xenia’s eyes widened. “You know him?”

With a look of disbelief, Kerry echoed, “Know him? Of course I know him, I-“

Before she could complete that thought, an unwelcome male voice cut into her verbiage, drowning out all else that might otherwise have been said. The “elfit” had apparently followed her all the way back to the bar. “Indeed she knows me, love… she knows me very well.” Xenia looked at the menu while those words made themselves known. The menu read simply “Elven wine” and “Elven wine” and “Elven wine” over and over again. Apparently there was not a wide array of options at this inn- an anomaly for those not fond of elven beverages, satisfying though they are.

“You, however, my beauty, do not know me well… the male continued, with a leery smile. “However…”

The elf Kerry took the opportunity to interject, “I am rather sure she does not care to, either.”

In response, the being moved over next to the elf-woman, his small hand finding its way to her voluptuous hindquarters. Xenia gaped, appalled at the gall, as the deft fingers moved closer together whilst digging into the feminine flesh. His face was one of yearning and lust.

How did Kerry take such violation? Not kindly. With ferocity astonishing for such delicate hands as elves possess, lifted into the air and inched backwards before flying at full speed until it crash-landed upon his cheek. The resulting sound was such that Xenia winced in near-pity. When the appendage resumed its initial station upon the top of the bar next to her drink, there was a crimson shape marking its passage visible very briefly before the hand sharing a common owner with the afflicted cheek covered it up in a massage. Kerry’s face had a though in common with Xenia- Serves you right, you foul pervert!

“D'ya want a drink, Miss?” In the midst of the harassment and retribution, a gnome had come up behind Xenia, somehow managing to go undetected even by her sharp ears.

Recovering her composure, Xenia said, her knowledge from reading the menu, somehow obliterated- “What do you have?”

The gnome’s pointer finger aimed at the menu as he rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Elven wine, an' elven wine, an' elven wine, an' elven wine.”

Shaking her head, Xenia remarked, “It does seem I have very little choice. I shall take the smallest size you have of elven wine.”

The gnome assumed a very disappointed expression. “But… that’s nil…” He seemed so downtrodden by Xenia’s order that the hobbit relented, saying “I’ll have two then.” She slurred slightly on the final two words. It was clear that the elven wine was beginning to course through her veins and wreak the effects associated with liquor. However, it was so delicious that she simply had to have more!

When the drinks were brought to the hobbit by a cheerful gnome with flaming red hair and a maroon hat that clashed dreadfully, Kerry pointed at one of the goblets. “Would you prefer that heated, Halfling?”

“Yes please,” said Xenia, smiling, having grown used to being addressed in a rather condescending fashion. “Your heating certainly makes it scrumptious.”

“Indeed,” Kerry said as she cast her magic over the drink and handed it back to the smaller woman.

Xenia began to sip her new beverage, glancing about the room as she did so. Suddenly, she realized that the paladin she had discerned before was standing by the door, hand placed upon one of his swords, as though poised to draw at any second. She could not see past the tall, dark man to note the cause of this most strange turn. “What is he doing?” she wondered. “Peculiar…”

The cleric suddenly spoke again. He obviously had not been deterred by Kerry’s slap. His hand was inching toward Xenia this time. In response, she gave him a glare that clearly read “Don’t even think about it” as though there was much a small being such as herself could do. “Oh, he is not letting anyone into the inn,” he informed the two women casually. “Nor is he permitting anyone to leave.”

“Wonderrfull,” Xenia slurred. There was no doubt; alcohol was in her system now.

The hobbit-elf combination looked at her, smiling slyly. “Well, you should enjoy that. After all, you have the royal privilege of being in the company of Nont’im the renowned cleric. Women tell me I make a most…satisfying and pleasurable companion, one even a princess would die for.”

Xenia simply looked at him in consternation. “It's a pity for you that I am going to have to decline your offer.”

Nontim’s hand snaked even closer to his reluctant conquest, nodding encouragingly at her drinking with a knowing smile. “You are welcome to change your mind at any time.”

“Oh, I am certain she will not,” Kerry chimed in, her black eyes moving to where the paladin had stationed himself. “Foolish paladin…” she muttered.

Xenia burped very slightly and asked pardon before informing her, “He was looking at me in a, -hic-, odd manner.”

“That does not surprise me. That paladin, he expects nothing but vice from everybody.”

The cleric coughed and, to Xenia’s relief, moved his hand away. “He truly is not a bad sort of fellow.”

Kerry laughed derisively, although Xenia noted she was still gazing keenly at the man.

“So…” Nont’im said, “What brings a beauty worthy of royalty here?”

Xenia frowned at him. “Nothing particular, just wanted drink and talk and fun.” She diverted her eyes to the paladin.

“Well, if you wish for excitement… perhaps you will join Kerry and myself on a grand adventure!” Nont’im declared, after his eyes briefly flickered back to the entrance.

“Adventure? You and Kerry?” Kerry’s face, Xenia noticed, had changed; her jaw was clenched as though she were not entirely sure of the undertaking in Nont’im’s company. Why would she even travel with the lecherous cleric in the first place, though? At the same time, however, she still seemed to be exhorting the potential third party. “I want more information…” She was tired of remaining in solitude, but at the same time…

“Well, are you good at dueling, my Xenia? Have your tutors instructed you in such a skill?”

The hobbit paused. “I am not much at swordplay, my folk generally do not relish the art of war.” Her brown eyes seemed to cloud over despondently. “I am, however, a fair markswoman, I am quite adept at archery and especially casting objects at a target with a sling.”

Nont’im smiled. “I had best be advised to avoid offending you too badly lest you avenge yourself from afar… if you are as true with your aim as you boast, that is.”

“I am,” Xenia confirmed stiffly, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder and taking a few more sips of wine. She took the last drop, and suddenly found herself feeling as though the room were revolving about her. She attempted to place the goblet upon the table and accidentally knocked it over. Shaking her head slightly, she giggled and righted the offending glass. “Oops!”

Kerry shook her head, smirking, and then said, “You have still not divulged what is in it for me. Gold? I have plenty of that. I am royalty, after all, and a most successful merchant. Incidentally, do you wish to purchase wares, Halfling?”

“Wha- oh! Sure.. Maay, -hic-, maybe.. Laterrrr. I’m a bit tired… will we be travelling together?”

“Perhaps. Nont’im has to give me a satisfactory answer.”

Xenia nodded and glanced at her second small goblet, which was actually quite large for one of her size. She made a move as though to imbibe it- but instead climbed shakily onto the top of her stool. Wobbling slightly, the hobbit called out “Who wants a free drink?”

From what seemed to be out of nowhere, a gnome swooped over. “Two gold pieces,” he squawked, taking the goblet and dropping the refund onto the table. Bemusedly, Xenia pocketed her restored money, wondering what had brought that about- drinks were not usually refundable. She sat back down and fiddled with her shirt buttons idly while she stared at the wall.

“All right! I’ll do it!” Her attention riveted back to her new and unexpected companions, but it was too late- she had missed hearing about how the elf would benefit. She started to ask- but yawned very loudly instead, punctuating it with a hiccup.

“I think our little hobbit princess is tired… I could excite you in the blink of an eye, my darling Xenia.”

The hobbit laughed vaguely before answering, “Keep talking, and I will, -hic-, demonstrate my throwing skills. HIC! However, I am tired and, -hic-, will retire to my cha, -hic-, cha, -hic, chamber. Goodnight? Hic HIC!”

“We start tomorrow,” Nont’im said. At that, Xenia descended the footstool very shakily, stumbled at the last step, and meandered tipsily to her room. She fumbled to lock the door and fell asleep as soon as she collapsed upon her bed, forgetting to even draw the curtains.