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Mark of the Lash
New Arrival

New Arrival

Pavel jiggled on his feet, let out a sigh of relief, and pulled his pants up. He was on his third trip to water the bushes, and he picked the same each time. “Be consistent” his old mentor used to say.

Cruck’aa had turned in after Pavel’s fourth drink, spouting something about not being able to watch him drink poison anymore. While that was normal for the Aarakocra, Pavel couldn’t understand why he had decided to go back to the wagons. His boss was one of the only owners that stayed, and Cruck’aa had more than enough money to rent a room, like so many others had. Yet he refused, muttering something about abandoning his flock, leaving Pavel alone for the rest of the night.

Pavel was sad to see him go, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the solitude.

By the time Pavel had finished his seventh drink, he had had enough. The room he rented earlier called out to him, and Pavel eagerly looked forward to whatever accommodations the inn provided.

As he turned around – humming an old marching tune – two figures came out and around the front of the inn. A laughing fit seemed to consume them, as they leaned on one another for support, and as they drew near, Pavel recognized the pair.

“Hey!” he said, waving at Serena and Werond. “Took you two long enough! I’m just coming back myself! Although I think I’m turning in for the night.”

“Pavel!” Werond exclaimed, barely able to stand. “Pavel, you’re not going to believe what Serena said about you.”

Pavel cocked his head, a small smile upon his lips.

“Well it’s gotta be funny,” he said, gesturing to the pair, “if you two can barely stand up.”

“She – she,” another fit of giggles consumed Werond, as they staggered forward. “I – can’t, tell him yourself!”

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Serena opened her mouth and spoke, “I said you’re dumber than a sack of bricks!”

She clutched at Werond as she almost fell over, utterly consumed by laughter; Werond placed her hand on the side of the inn, supporting them both as more Werond came close to howling.

Pavel kicked some dirt, his chest a bit tight.

“I don’t see how that’s funny Serena, that’s pretty hurtful actually.”

“Y-you know what,” Serena could barely speak through her laughter, “you know what else is hurtful? Huh?”

“What?”

Werond’s face twisted into snarl.

She lunged towards Pavel, laughter forgotten, yanking a dagger from behind her belt.

Pavel jerked back.

The dagger missed his throat by inches.

“The hell?!” Pavel exclaimed. He patted his belt.

His heart shot into his throat; he’d left his swords in the inn.

Werond stumbled and caught herself, eyes filled with malice.

Serena cursed and pulled a dagger from her boot, advancing towards him.

“You really are stupider than a sack of bricks!” she sneered. “How dare you ignore –”

Serena screamed as arrow lodged itself between her shoulder blades. Werond twisted around, eyes wide.

The short elf from the inn, grey hood still pulled down, stood behind them, bow in hand, arrow at the ready.

She notched another arrow, taking aim at Werond.

Werond ducked and twisted, the arrow barely missed her.

She yelled in a language that Pavel couldn’t recognize, as she took off into the woods, Serena hot on her heels.

Pavel flattened himself against the inn and watched as the pair fled. He opened his mouth to call out to them, only to stop halfway.

Serena and Werond, now reaching the tree line, suddenly shifted, growing a foot taller in half a second; in another, their clothes melted away, revealing thick, grey skin. The pair shimmered as though they were underwater, and they dove behind the trees, out of sight.

Pavel could only stare.

“Doppelgangers.” The short elf said, stepping over to Pavel, as she scanned the trees. “Picked it up the moment they walked in.”

“How did you –” Pavel asked.

“Your elf friend speaks with her hands, not her mouth.” She gestured towards where the doppelgangers had fled. “The one playing her got it wrong. Why didn’t you recognize it?”

“I uh…uhm…” Pavel turned to face her. “So, I guess you made good on your deal, huh?”

“Guess so.” The elf replied. “Got a spot open?”

“I do now. Pavel Smith, captain of our little guard. And you are?”

“Johana Eagleton. Just call me Jo.”

“Well Jo, I think we’ll get along just fine…if you keep saving my life like that.”

Jo smirked.

“Might have to start charging, if that’s going to be a regular thing.”