There's such a thing as "good" elves? Aren't the only good elves are dead elves? 
((The normal elves don't actively try to to murder everyone in the fort. That makes them good, at least as far as Oceanbridge is concerned.))
Conversations:
The leader of the merchants had finally emerged from the mayor's office, looking tired and worried, but otherwise unharmed. The mayor followed her, waving and shouting to any dwarf who would listen (Which was none of them) "Thrilling news, everyone! I've convinced them to come back! And I told them we'll have lots of cheese! That's what they want from us, you know. Cheese!”

The merchant's leader spotted Aban nearby, sitting by the edge of the dry waterfall. She waited until Belgium had skipped down the stairs to the dining hall, and then said, "You do realize you have chosen a madman as your leader, right?"
Aban nodded. "Well, yes we do, but it could be worse. It
has been worse here, I'm pretty sure. Listen though, I want to ask you something before you leave. What's it like out there? In the world?”
This seemed to take the other dwarf by surprise. "You really don't know? But you're the cause of all of this. The story is well known now."
"No, I mean, no to the first part. We can't really see much of the outside world here. And whenever we do get a hint, it's usually too damn cryptic to make sense of. Ghosts really love being cryptic."
"I don't understand what that means. But I can be very clear, then. The dead walk the earth, not as ghosts, but as walking corpses.
"Yeah, we know that. Haven't seen any of them here yet, though."
"Allow me to continue. Strange earthquakes rock the land, and it is not safe to stay in any place for too long. Ducks refuse to lay eggs. Those who the dead and the disasters do not kill, fall to the frost giants, who have invaded the south in great numbers. It is... not the best of times."
"...Ok. That's not... that's not what I wanted to hear. But if it's that dangerous out there, couldn't you just join us here?"
The merchant stared at her. "Listen. To get to your fortress, I had to cross a burned out wasteland coated with the skeletal remains of hundreds of sentient beings. Upon arriving, I was trapped by a mad dwarf who kept me in a mud coated "throne room" while he ranted at me about spoons and cheese. While I was in that room, I saw spirits of slain dwarfs float before my eyes and shriek gibberish at me. In fact, there are two of them behind you right now. I say this with complete certainty: We will take our chances with the giants."
From the Journals of Aban BrothertreatiesI'm starting to feel like I might have become jaded.
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Next: Goblins, Still.