"What manner of creature are you?" the harwynglaive asked her in the common tongue. "You aren't human. You certainly aren't elvish."
"She is a sylph; a water-sprite," said Anest, who knew from experience to be direct and honest in his dealing with elves.
"What devilry is this, then?" the elven warrior demanded. "She is far from the Marshes of Morag. How is it she yet lives?" In surprise, she took Lily's left hand, glanced at Anest's. "Your wife?"
"Yes," replied Anest, and explained Lily's circumstances as quickly as possible, leaving out nothing.
The elven woman was much moved by Lily's tale, and removing her glove, touched the girl's cheek in empathy. Lily was so overwhelmed by all this unwanted attention that she buried her face against Anest and tried unsuccessfully not to weep before everyone. "She is so young," the warrior said. "And you," she directed her attention to Anest, "are taking her into great danger. Though I understand there is little choice in this matter, there is nevertheless great cruelty in taking one so guileless and innocent from the only home she has known." She replaced cowl, glove, and helm.
"Both wizard and apprentice," the elven woman continued, "are known to us." She addressed the company as a whole. "I am Dorain, a captain and harwynglaive of the King's Northern Guard. You may have passage through the Wood, but I warn you that your journey will be fraught with peril. We track a large band of goblins and rock-gnomes that have so far eluded us. We are uncertain as to their strength of numbers or their intent, but I cannot guarantee that you will not encounter them."