[b]Gavinyarel: The Roxey Village, the Roxey Steakhouse -- Midyear 2, 4E201[/b]


Gavinyarel could only watch the events unfold with drained eyes.  Still, he supposed being naturally feisty had its merits -- something to be said for not taking crap from anyone.  He wordlessly followed the others along the path to the cemetery and over to the charred remains of the zombie.  He dearly hoped her crossbow lay undamaged nearby, as his heart sank at the prospect of witnessing the kind of hell she'd raise over the destruction of her best weapon.  Of course, he'd get the blame since he was the one vying for half the bounty. 

In an effort to preserve the calmness as long as possible, the Altmer decided to plead his case first.  "This zombie has obviously been burned to a crisp...and for that to happen, it would have had to have met with a fire of some kind, yes?  I don't see the remnants of any torches or other physical fire sources around, so that leaves magic..."  He proceeded to conjure a fireball in his hand and jet the flame a little outward in few different directions.  He ended with a small burst of fire.  'Twas inexpensive child's play for someone of his experience to give such a demonstration, and he knew simple village folk hadn't the heads for differentiating between playing with a little fire and conjuring a blast sufficient to immolate a body.  "I'm obviously more than capable of lighting something on fire without material aid.  Now, unless this young lady here can indicate she could've done the same, I'm insisting I get half the coin for this.  She was here, yes...and she did do some damage, but she wasn't alone."

The innkeeper rubbed and scratched his head for a while, clearly thinking harder than he was used to.  Finally, he turned toward the woman and asked, "Alright Missy, what say you?"

The elf stood with pursed lips and folded arms, praying he was being understood.  Every now and then, he'd glance around at the odd brown shape on the ground in the hopes it was the crossbow.