Then he realizes that he doesn't have blonde hair, because in Glorantha, all elves are actually plants. He doesn't have hair. He has short green wisps.
He also realizes that he doesn't have any clothes on, because he's covered with leafy green stuff that keeps him healthy.
He realizes that his sword and armor are no longer made of mithril, because there's no such thing in Glorantha. He's not sure whether they are made of wood that has been enchanted to magical hardness or copper enchanted to look like wood. It is probably somewhere in between.
He discovers he's wearing a pouch full of silver rocks. Yuck. He dumps these on the ground, since they are the accused metal of the Red Moon witch that burnt down the Forest of Rist in the Moonburn.
The meat faces' scuttling after the silver reminds him of how alien a place any human settlement is to him. He can't hear the Song of the Forest, and is already lonely and directionless. Reacting against the presence of so many unnaturally straight lines, he closes his eyes and begins to tell the story of his dragon hide boots and gloves. It's a good story -- in Glorantha, the dragons ate an entire empire.
The humans in the room wonder, though, does this elf know where he is?
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