A High Elf, sitting on a cedar stool at the mahoghany bar, dressed entirely
in Daedric Armor, quietly said "Ah would nay continue readyin' yer axe
there lad".  With that, the High Elf stood up and turned around.  The
normally youthful face that all elves enjoyed seemed to be lined and
weathered.  This High Elf stood a good half head taller than any Elf
around.  His forearms were as thick as most mens calves and his wrists were
as thick as a large piece of mutton.  His eyes were violet, and his
piercing gaze stopped K'tarin in the middle of his action.  "Ye see lad,
if'n K'tarin is it?  Ye see, if K'tarin continued bringin out thet nice
axe, ah'd have te really get angry and take it from the pup.  Ye should
know better'n te bring any violence inte the Porcupine.  Even the threat of
violence, is enough te get me ire.  Ah do nay like strangers comin' inte me
tavern and makin threats against me customers.  If'n ye think thet
Elfiran's gotten old, then by all means try me.  It'll take more then four
of ye te get the better of me."  Elfiran saw that his words were angering
the Redguards.  They seemed to see it as a personal affront that a High Elf
was saying he could wipe the floor with them.  They both looked at the
smallish man for the word to strike.  Elfiran, sensing that there was about
to be bloodshed, and didn't really want to clean up his tavern, quickly
flicked his fingers at the Redguards and the Breton, instantly paralyzing
them.  "Now, laddie, pull up a chair", and with that, Elfiran poured
another draft and sat down at the table.  "First off laddie, whet's yer
name?  Then ye ken tell me the rest of it."   Elfiran took a long drink
from his ale while he looked at the stranger over the rim of the
mug...........