"Oh? Minions of the Ebony Forest?"
The Gnome who had been kicked to the ground sat bolt upright, not the least bit angry. Instead, he asked with great interest,
"I grew up listening to your stories. Of course, I can't say whether any of them were made up. But you know, I was born in the Ebony Forest too. When I was just a little baby, I used to see that ranger, Markwen, all the time. Then one day, I stopped seeing him. I asked around and found out he'd given up his duties as a ranger and left with an adventuring party. I heard they were an odd bunch: a human rogue, a Gnome ranger, a Dwarf Warrior, and a Dragonborn priest. Oh, and an Elf too—the sorcerer in your party. Come to think of it, Elves really do exist in this world? I thought they were just made-up legends. I've never seen one in my life. Does she look a lot like that Half-elf owner? I heard Elves are all beautiful, tall, and slender. Does she have a head as cute as mine? Does she live on grass every day? I mean, this egg roll is so bland it's practically giving me gas..."
"Shave off his goatee! Is nobody going to do anything about this damn chatterbox?!"
Gravel pounded the table hard. The bang startled all the diners.
The Half-elf owner, whose hair was in a mohawk, couldn't help but speak up to stop them.
"Customers over there, to ensure everyone has a pleasant dining experience, our restaurant prohibits loud talking. If you can't keep your voices down, I'll have to ask you to go next door to the Half-Orc restaurant for some barbecue."
"Sorry, I'm really sorry."
Wendy stood up, embarrassed, and hurried over to the owner,