"It kind of sounds like the whole planet needs therapy but being kidnapped by you beats being oath-ordered into a war any day."

"I scared them."

"I bet. I also bet you are less scary than a police state run by Melkor."

"Sauron. Objectively, maybe. Families of orcs aren't objective."

"Do you remember them, we can probably look 'em up specifically. Or their alts."

"That'd be a hell of an icebreaker. 'I kidnapped your alts for research purposes'. They might not exist here, things changed early enough. I do have their address, but..."

"There's probably a tourism bureau or something. Friendlier."

"Yes. Lemme see where I can get with maps."

Tourism bureauuuuu?

Several! The biggest ones are in Erdenet and Darhan.

Erdenet has a cooler name. To Erdenet!

Erdenet winds halfway around an enormous freshwater lake. The architecture is very distinctly and maybe a little pointedly not Elven; lots less glass, higher density, less space between buildings. It's pretty in its own way. The maps note that most of the airspace over the lake is reserved for the local airport, so they have to go in the long way.

"You didn't bring a broomstick, did you?"

"I did not. I can go weightless and hold your hand if you want to fly in on your own wings, though."

"It's better than walking and I won't have to get rid of a vehicle. Besides, you'd be so inconvenienced having to learn about cell biology if I had a motorcycle accident."

"I probably wouldn't be a demon, I'd have to get you to do all the transfusions every time I slept and lost hold of 'em. Though wizards are harder to kill in accidents than Muggles."

"I guess you do kind of ride around on literal broomsticks high in the air at speed, motorcycles aren't worse than that."

"And we do it while being pursued by iron balls enchanted to try to smash our skulls in! Not that I am personally any good at Quidditch."

"Wait, what, iron balls, I missed this."

"Wait, really? Quidditch is played with four balls. Quaffle is this-large and hard rubber, you put it through the hoops to score. Snitch is this-large and gilded - they used to be little birds - and you catch it to end the game. The Bludgers are the iron ones, this large, and their job is to fly at the nearest person and try to knock them off their broom."

"That sounds like the kind of game that someone who had already had their skull smashed in by an iron ball would invent!"

"People really don't die playing very often."

"I wonder why being magic makes you so durable."

"Don't know. It's mostly resilience against accidents, in particular - I think anything specific you tried to do to me would go through just as easily as if I were a Muggle - maybe the dose to poison us is higher..."

"Do you do spontaneous magic about it?"

"Maybe. I am not sure how to tell."