Marc Chagall The Three Candles

'Anywhere not here.'
In the dark to try.
The room's only other occupants were a troll and a dwarf. He was not at ease in their company. They kept looking at him.
Finally the dwarf said, 'Are you elvish?'
'Me? No!'
'You look a bit elvish around the hair.'
'Not ellvish at allll. Honestlly.'mounds of merchandise, something felt their departure.Imp had already admired the Guild buildings ‑ the majestic frontage of the Assassins' Guild, the splendid columns of the Thieves' Guild, the smoking yet still impressive hole where the Alchemists' Guild had been up until yesterday. And it was therefore disappointing to find that the Guild of Musicians, when he eventually located it, wasn't even a building. It was just a couple of poky rooms above a barber shop.He sat in the brown‑walled waiting room, and waited. There was a sign on the wall opposite. It said 'For Your Comforte And Convenience YOU WILL NOT SMOKE'. Imp had never smoked in his life. Everything in Llamedos was too soggy to smoke. But he suddenly felt inclined