“I hope you don’t mind me coming down. My old bones don’t support me as they once did, the recompense for wisdom I assure you. Let me introduce myself. I am Archibald Porter. You have no doubt heard of me?” The elder stuck out his hand and Aubrey met it. He was surprised at the firmness of the gnome’s handshake.

Aubrey searched his memories for the name but the only relevant events were the times when his father would fume over the council’s decisions to increase grain quotas. He thought it would be best to leave those out of polite conversation. So instead, he lied, “Of course. Would you care for some tea?” He asked reaching for some matches to start the fire.

“No, No, I can’t stay long. I’m only here because it has come to the council’s attention that you have been having some interesting adventures.” The old gnome laid heavy emphasis on the word ‘interesting.’

“I wouldn’t exactly call them that.”

“On the contrary, from what I have heard, you claim to have seen an owl. Is that correct? An encounter with a member of that serendipitous race is a momentous event. To encounter an owl proves one worthy among his peers. Until now only council members have been so honored. I would call that an adventure indeed.

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Aubrey said quietly.