The Rat King's mother was probably a high priestess, though from the description, she might well have been another Rat King.
"You're different from those other human things."
The Rat King said curiously, "When they see me, all they do is wail, scream, and run around in a panic."
Annan took the cue. "That's because they're awed by your might."
"You're not afraid?"
"I came with goodwill, curiosity, and a gift."
The Rat King showed keen interest.
Annan had little he could give the Rat King, but when he didn't know what to offer, a Magic Film was always a safe bet.
"You're all right... If anyone bullies you, come find me."
There was no return gift, of course. The Serain Ratfolk weren't called bargain-bin Dragons for nothing.
Annan left the Rat King in peace and looked for another target. His gaze soon settled on the Sea Folk soaking in the Fountain and Stream.
He had a history with the Sea Folk, from the clam woman he had met long ago to the Naga he had encountered more recently in the Northern Frontier.
The Sea Folk's delegation consisted of one Sea Elf, two Nagas, four Sea Sirens, and eight Fishmen.
At least, those were the ones Annan could see.
"Hello." Annan approached the Stream, speaking the Sea Folk's language.
To his surprise, they knew him—one of the Nagas called him "Jack" in halting Common Tongue.
It seemed the other Naga had successfully brought the Magic Stone back to the Sea Folk.
Annan focused on the lone Sea Elf. Compared to land Elves, Sea Elves had dark green skin, scales, gills, and webbed feet. Shells and seaweed covered their intimate parts. Their slender builds made crawling on land even harder for them than it was for Nagas.
The scales covering the