Even though the dwarf’s leather jacket, leather pants and leather boots were slightly dusty and threadbare, he nevertheless stood proudly tall, which is not an easy thing to do if you are 9.123 hands short. He sucked in his breath to make him even taller, but that just made his mithril chain mail clink and uncomfortably loose, so he stopped and just breathed normally. His hands trembled ever so slightly and thoughtlessly he groped for his axe until he realised that he did not have it with him.

In contrast, the tall elf who stood next to him wore flowing robes that seemed to have been spun from sunbeams and spider silk. The gemstones glittered like dewdrops as the crystal clear morning light caught and caressed them. She stood very still and her gossamer veiled face did not betray her emotions, but those who knew her intimately could see a nervous shiver.

The Priestess stepped forward and intoned:
“Do you, Orgis Orehelm son of Criff take thee Lafarilis Melithlylth’Hlae daughter of Maiya as your wedded wife?”