As Gibley predicted we saw the city of the Dromadil pixies that collection of burrows rising above the morning mists of the fields. From then on, we passed by pixie farms and villages. And as I feared we garnered stares and fearful looks from the pixies we met. Thankfully when they caught sight of Dunfallon their demeanor changed to one of welcoming comradery. (I verily believe that they took him for the leader of our little band).
We had decided beforehand that we would head straight for the place where we were required to stable Cluyjil on our last visit – in hopes that Conjil would accept that imposition willingly. But before we got there we came across an encampment of wee structures, and as we suspected the Sprites we came for were located there.
Emminie, their chieftain, who remembered us, was elated to hear that it was safe for them to return home. And he could not leave soon enough – for they all feel slighted by the way the Dromadil pixies have kept them at a distance. Evidently there are stories of long standing that cast these wee folks as robbers who use their tiny stature to sneak into homes for nefarious purposes. They knew that it was only on account of Merlin’s request that they were allowed in to their territory.
Some of us (Gibley in particular) thought that with the message delivered we were free to depart ourselves. But I overruled that idea, reasoning that we owed it to the Dromadil pixies to thank them on behalf of the Sprites and the wizard. And perhaps change the image the the Dromadilians hold about them.
We found the right place to stable Conjil and sent Dunfallon in to meet with his friend the king of Dromadil (whose name I still cannot pronounce much less spell).
Soon after the rest of us were invited in and fêted by the Dromadil pixies.