The Value of a Heartbeat

The doctor's here!

Reilyn must have been asleep on the forest floor for about a day, as it was night once more during his walk to the nearest town. Felix, the undead squirrel, was perched on his shoulder. Felix jittered around, observing their surroundings, all while snug in the warm cloak. 

The wound on Reilyn’s bicep was inflamed, and made moving that arm uncomfortable and painful. Reilyn gritted his teeth a little as he kept walking. 

The necromancer reached a break in the trees. He slowly made his way through, seeing some soft town lights and a welcome sign. Welcome to Pembroke. “Lay’Embroke…” Reilyn mumbled, looking at the sign and town up and down. A grunt escaped as he spoke to himself. He pulled his hood up and over his face, and wrapped his cloak tighter around his body, obscuring his appearance. Reilyn ventured into Pembroke. 

There were a few people about, some couples, the odd family. It was late and most Humans slept at night. Reilyn kept his distance from the Humans around him, minding his own business. The small town was shaped like a circle and surrounded by a palisade, more or less a tall fence of wooden stakes. Most small agricultural towns were similar to this. The huts were also round. They had tall thatched roofs. Around the edge of town is where the livestock were kept. 

Very few buildings had more than one floor, even the local businesses. Reilyn waded in between the huts and around the townsfolk until he found a tavern. The tavern was two floors, a more rectangle building and its roof was similar to the huts, but it was a little flatter. The sign outside the tavern said “Reaper’s Paradise” and if the locals coming in and going out didn’t make it obvious it was a tavern, the smell of mead that wafted from the windows and out the door whenever it was opened certainly did. 

Reilyn’s stomach growled, and his arm ached. He sighed and entered Reaper’s Paradise. The place was almost full, laughter and boisterous conversation could be heard from every group occupying a table. Reilyn stayed quiet, and sneakily found an empty table in one of the back corners. He slipped into the somewhat secluded spot and sat down. 

The necromancer sighed with relief at finally being able to rest, mostly, undisturbed. He noticed a few curious and some judgemental glances his way from the Humans occupying the tavern. This was nothing new. He kept to himself and shrugged their rude glares off. Reilyn unclipped his cloak and let it fall onto the chair behind him. Felix hopped from Reilyn’s shoulder to his lap and curled up. 

Reilyn grimaced, being reminded of his wound by the painful ache. He looked at his bicep thoroughly, inspecting the swollen wound that was now coated with dry blood and a bit of dirt. While Reilyn was zoned out, glaring at his injured arm, a redheaded woman walked up to his table. She looked at him with some wonder in her teal eyes and a raised eyebrow. 

“I don’t usually see Elves around here.” The woman grinned.

The Elf jumped. Embarrassed, he averted his eyes from her. “I get that a lot.” He muttered. 

“Can I get you a drink?” She said, rehearsed and politely. “I have a good selection of food as well.” She handed Reilyn a handmade menu. 

“Thank you.” Reilyn flipped through the menu. He glanced back up at her to see her furrowing her brow at him with a concerned expression. 

She reached her hand for Reilyn’s injured arm. “Hey, what happened?” 

“Nothing!” Reilyn flinched, pulling back. In his reaction he grabbed the injury as an attempt to hide it, gripping it harder than he should have, he yelped. The woman crossed her arms and frowned at him. 

“I’ll get you something to drink. You can stay past closing.” Her tone was firm. 

“Why would I?”