The Elf(End)

The man was wearing a waistcoat with the buttons open, revealing equal parts of fat and flap on a body that had grown with both effort and gluttony. A half-moon axe glinted in the light falling from the ceiling where a chandelier had been lighted; it was something made for killing, and it stood ready to do the task it had been created for while swerving between all those in the room, searching for the target that it would go for first.

If he was being frank, Daneel was in no mood for a fight. In his mind, he prepared to tell the system to take care of it, but just before he could do so, the man's eyes alighted on the elf and he bellowed, "There you are! The Thraldens send their regards! You have only yourself to blame, coming to such a discreet place with no bodyguards! Come…meet your death!"

Stopping the command he was going to give the system, Daneel glanced at the elf who, surprisingly, looked just as bored as him despite listening to what the man had just said.