Part I: In which Rolfin Returns to the North Pole
The Polar Trek
Even though magical warming energy protected Rolfin as charms sped his journey to the pole, he was not happy to be back . Whoever thought elves should live buried in ice and snow didn’t understand smaller bodies meant less heat and poor circulation. He stamped his feat and tried to warm his hands by sticking them under his arms. The skinny elf appeared almost round because he wore many layers of coats and hats. The red colors of his outer clothes made him easy to spot in the sea of shimmering white flakes. His dark curls and high cheekbones would have made him attractive if they were visible. Instead, he looked fat and merry. Looks can be deceiving.
“That old windbag Kringle should have enlisted the ice giants in this scheme.” Rolfin muttered to himself, “North Pole indeed. A lot of trouble for something that was mostly spying and puffery.” He trudged through the drifting snow and tried to ignore the wind. Finally, he came to a stone marker so pale it was barely distinguishable from the whiteness around it.
“Hidden portals with invisible ruins are unnecessary in a uninhabitable climate like this.” Rolfin continued grumbling as he made the familiar signs with frozen fingers and pounded on the stone till the gateway rose up. The glowing white frame revealed the familiar elven buildings of the Changeling Networks’ village. As soon as the portal was clear, he jumped through and sprinted to the welcoming doorway of the Tanked Toymaker pub.
“Wipe your feet and leave your coat on the peg.” Gretty the bar owner called in greeting, “We don’t need more slush on this floor.” Her dark locks fell loosely around her thin shoulders, and her green velvet dress made her small athletic frame seem very feminine, almost curvy. Gretty knew how to make the most of her looks. Elves did invent glamor after all.
“I missed you you too, my sweet.” Rolfin answered her, but he stamped his feet dutifully removed the outer layers of his coats. He hung the thick red coverings neatly before pulling off his boots and putting on the generic pointy slippers that were waiting by the door. He padded over to the fire and stretched out his fingers to the warmth. The tavern was done in classic medieval style, with wood tables and benches taking up most of the room. Gretty resisted candy canes and gingerbread as much as she dared.
“So,” Gretty asked while pouring whiskey into a mug and trying to make it look as if it were cocoa, “Who’s been naughty?”
“Everyone.” Said Rolfin, “You know that.”
“Any prospects?”
“There are some twins in Denmark with red hair. Their family has been known to have talent.”
“Mmm.” She murmured unimpressed as she brought him the drink.
“There is a family with eight children in Alabama” Rolfin continued, “The mother thinks she’s been visited by space aliens. We could probably swap out all of her brood and she’d not notice.”
“Just what we need– more inbred idiots running around here.” Gretty commented.
“A spoiled rich kid in Brazil wants a real pony.” He paused, “We do have a debt to her family. Old contract.”
“Ha! Let the parents handle that. You know they handle most of our load without even knowing it. They probably won’t know how to invoke the contract.”
“There is a boy who wants to buy shoes for his mother because his mother has cancer and no job. He thinks the shoes will help her find work.”
“Contract in the family?”
“No.”
“Any sign of talent?”
“Unknown.”
“We’ll probably drop a gold coin in the local Salvation Army and pick up the kid after the mother has passed away. We can only budget so many miracles.”
“I am just glad we limit the main campaign to once a year. I’m glad we don’t cover all their holidays. Humans will celebrate anything.”
“Well, it’s a good thing they like to play so much make believe. There’s nothing like hiding right out in the open.”
“Sometimes I wonder how long Kringle intends to keep this going.”
“Hush. No one wants talk like that around.”
“Guess not. I’m just cold.”
“You are always complaining. Best drink up and get ready to make an official report.”
Rolfin nodded and emptied his mug. It would likely be a long night. He turned his back to the fire and watched the door.
