from among the spread of antiques. For a moment, Beryl forgot her task and she picked up the old shield, without thinking, only to have it snatched from her hands. The room fell silent. The group of dwarven historians looked up at the giant who now held the shield—he was clearly offended.

“I didn’t say you could touch it yet!” snapped the giant, who was already reluctant to show the antiques.

but this is my last one. We’ve been pen pals for years, but in all fairness, I might be the only person she can write to. I’ve only met her in person once, when she was fleeing from some power-hungry aunt or uncle. We were young back then, and neither of us really understood the situation.

two vampires discuss which bottle of blood to order with their dinner. Music can be heard from downstairs, and a distant drum seems to annoy one of the vampire's sensitive hearing; the one with black hair. The white-haired vampire seems much more interested in discussing what to drink than the other.