The elders arrayed across the podium looked down at the young human woman. Some tugged at long beards, others were leaning back, eyes half-lidded in silent judgement.
“What?” the woman asked.
“Your story so far is... plausible,” the eldest said, his voice little more than a rasp, but it carried enough authority with it that it travelled across the grand hall nonetheless.
“I would hope so, seeing as how it happened,” the woman said. She shifted to the side, head tilting one way while she cocked her hips to the other. “You don’t like the story?”
The elders looked to each other, communicating in the way only those long familiar with each other could. “We believe you. Or at least, we believe that you believe your own words, slight exaggerations notwithstanding.”
“Exaggerations my arse. If anything I’m downplaying things,” she bit back. The woman turned her head and spat to the floor.
A few of the elders winced. The floor of the hall had never been so sullied. The barbarism of their guest was well known to them already though.
“Perhaps we should call the discussion to an end for now,” the eldest said.
The woman hesitated, then looked out of the nearest window. The sun wasn’t entirely visible past the stained-glass, but it was clear to any that the sun was setting.
“I could use a sit, and maybe a pull of whiskey.” She nodded. “Fine, we’ll put this thing on pause if you old folk need your naps.”
“We appreciate it,” the eldest said.
“No problem. Besides, if what I’ve told you so far has stretched your sense of what’s plausible, then the next bit’s not going to be any easier on you.”