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Artemis and Astra stood in a large room. It was sparsely decorated, with a
couple bunk beds against one wall, a few landscapes against the others and
absolutely no curtains to cover the two rectangular windows facing the
woods. The two women discussed their situation as they put on practical, comfortable clothes. All were a variation of green but beggars could not be choosers. "Quite an odd situation." said Artemis. "Naturally." remarked Astra. "But I'm damn glad for some elves on our side. Best swordfighters in all the known lands." "Swords? Thought it was bows and arrows." "Nah, those are dwarves." said Astra as she slipped a blouse on. "Hobbits do the axe thing and centaurs are a devil with the spears." "My dad is going to hate knowing his stories are wrong, eh? But we're getting off topic. How do we know we can trust these elves? I'm a little overwhelmed by all this." "They'd have tried something already, wouldn't they?" "Maybe they're drawing it out." "Elves aren't like that." "Not all elves are trustworthy." Artemis noted, as she finished. Astra smiled. "With an attitude like that, you just may survive yet." A knock on the door and Bjorn led them to the warchamber. It was done in blue and black and was full of sharp corners and unpleasent chairs. Sandwhiches were being served.
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6/21/2003 2:48:49 PM
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