The Mimic Becomes a Merchant King

Despite everything that had transpired, the group still decided to leave Charnyll behind when the next morning came. Talk of the battle with the phantasm, if anything, had motivated them to be even quicker in their retreat. They had lingered in the town long enough, with no trace of anyone else on their trail to give them pause.

Plus, having nearly been killed by an immensely strong beast from the Bleak had made the town feel even more inhospitable. Impressive, considering how damn awful the town had been beforehand. Come the morning, when they were as rested as they could get and their supplies were reaching a bit of a low, the group set out along the route Elijah had planned.

"It's... a lot to take in. Still can't fathom it entirely," Igrei said, resting his chin on his palm. He had come to town riding a red-shelled mushien, and left it the same way. He sat in a saddle atop her back, flanked by an assortment of locked chests that were lashed to the chitin. "I still don't know how you got the creature to relinquish its grasp on Essine, without the blade bonding to your flesh in the process."

"Your guess is as good as mine. I had a bit of a theory about forming a magical barrier in my hand as soon as he tried to jump to me. Created a buffer that allowed me to toss it," Coin said, lying through his ass.

"I suppose that's possible. Not entirely implausible, but still. I suppose that phantasm was very desperate if he tried to hear your offer out." Igrei leaned forward in his saddle and grimaced, touching the bandage wrapped around his head. "Damnation. If only that brick from the ceiling hadn't walloped me."

The benefits of having superhuman speed was that it was easy to lie to people about what they had or had not seen. His sucker punch had been so swift, and his position had been aligned in just such a way that Igrei had no reason to suspect him.

Save for the occasional uncertain glance he gave Coin.

"I'm more concerned about this strange magic Essine used," Elijah said from where he sat. Bit by bit Charnyll was receding into the distance, and the landscape steadily became more colourful and vibrant. Even the air felt fresher.

Igrei nodded grimly. "Never heard of an ability like that before. But, since our friend seemingly can't summon that power at will... it was likely a one time thing."

They had tried a few times to see if Essine could call upon the eerie green light again, even letting her borrow Coin's promethium ring for the sake of experimentation. But, ultimately, she had had no luck. And, mild exhaustion aside, she had shown no side effects to worry about either.

"And since I can't sense any trace of a Bleak presence in her body, she seems like she'll be fine. For the best. It would not be wise to let someone infested by the Bleak back into society."

"This one can hear you, you know. Perhaps do not speak so casually about the prospect of killing this one, yes?" she asked from the rear of the wagon.

"Hah. Apologies. But it's true, sad to say."

Elijah shrugged. "Not that it's as much of an issue these days. Inquisitions stopped being a thing back when I was a lad."

"Evil festers whenever good men grow docile," Igrei simply replied.

"Oh, please, stop being so damn morose!" Pearl groaned, shaking her head. "Everything worked out just fine in the end. No need to speculate on ghastly, spooky things. Why must men always become bogged down in imagining dire hypotheticals?"

"For the fun of it," Elijah bluntly replied.

Ignoring him, Pearl kept her focus on her lute. "But I must once again give praise to our fair Essine. That's twice she's saved the day. She may look like a mouse, but she has the heart of a lioness. Oh!" Her head snapped up, an excitable grin on her face. "Now that would be a fine lyric, if I can think up the right notes to use."

Essine poked her head from the wagon's curtains. "Notes? What do you mean?"

"Well... I was hoping to write a song about you," Pearl replied, giving the kobold a smile. "Kobolds have a bit of a poor reputation among the ignorant populace. But songs can change hearts and move mountains. The tale of a heroic kobold girl, I hope, will be a powerful thing."

Essine groaned and sank back into the wagon, flush with embarrassment.

"Goodness..." Coin sank back in his chair to watch the bard. "You two seem to be getting along much better now." Not that he was complaining. Playing peacemaker between them would be a challenge if their tension had persisted.

"Yes, well, it's hard not to admire someone after they've saved your rear," Pearl replied.

The group travelled throughout the day, keeping an eye on the roads as they went along. Occasionally they would halt whenever Elijah spied someone through his spyglass, and then carry on after everything seemed safe.

There was never a trace of anyone pursuing them, blessedly, and it seemed likely the group would reach Sentinel in record time if their pace persisted. Even the elements were seemingly on their side, warm sunlight guiding their path.

Come sunset the next day, it seemed that they were well and truly in the clear. If anyone was following them, they were at such a distance that there was no way to perceive them. The group gradually relaxed, particularly when a roadside structure came into view for them.

A roadside inn with an assortment of wagons and carriages parked in the side yard, sporting symbols for different trading companies on the sides. The stables on the other side were similarly packed with steeds and mushien.

"Scarecrow's Perch," Elijah said, gesturing to the scarecrow protruding from the thatched roof of the structure. "Run by an old friend of mine, Mozh Farrow."

"And you think we'll be safe here?" Coin asked.

"Indeed. Mozh is one of the most honest men I've ever known, and has a good nose for sniffing out criminal types. No one with ties to the Brotherhood, or any gang, would find shelter under his roof."

Pearl tilted her head to the side. "Why the scarecrow?"

"Well, believe it or not, that scarecrow was actually the only thing on that land when Mozh bought it. He liked the look of the old boy, kept him around like a flag," Elijah explained.

"Doing what he can to keep a man from becoming homeless, I suppose." Igrei sank back in his saddle. "I hate to ask, but will he let a kobold into his establishment."

"He wouldn't turn anyone from his door, provided they can cross his hand with ducats."

Coin sat upright, pressing his right fist into his left palm. "And if anyone makes an issue out of it, they're welcome to take it up with me."

The stablemaster, a burly gnome with a braided blond beard, tended to their wagon when they arrived. After being tipped with a pair of ducats by Elijah, of course.

Elijah had said that it was often a good call to tip labourers where possible. It was a good look to have, for one thing, it made a merchant appear generous and also wealthy enough to give a few coins away without a care. And, moreover, it made workers more inclined to work with and trust a merchant.

It was nice to be nice. Particularly if you could get something out of it.

Chattering and fiddle music greeted the group as they pressed inside, none of the customers giving them a passing glance. A man stood behind the bar, tall and pale with a thin crop of grey hair, idly cleaning a pewter tankard with a cloth in his hand. He locked eyes with Elijah and grunted in recognition.

"Long time no see Mozh!" Elijah called, making his way over.

Mozh set the tankard down and wiped his hands in his smock. "Would've thought you were dead, DiVenture. Seeing how trouble follows at your heels like a hungry hound," he replied. He nodded at the group behind him. "Seems you're not alone this time around."

"Close friends and confidants, old chum. And I can pay for bed and board for all of us," he said, motioning to his coin purse.

"Well, that was never in doubt. Andea, dearest, can you find a table for our newest guests?"

Mozh's wife was a woman who seemed to be his polar opposite in appearance. A woman with dark brown skin, broad and plump of build, and a braid of black hair than ran down her back. And, notably, she smiled much more than Mozh did. "Ah, friends of Elijah? Wonderful, wonderful! Please, this way."

Coin took the lead while Elijah went to talk prices with Mozh. "Say, you still keep messenger birds out back, don't you?" he heard Elijah ask.

"We do. Same rates as ever."

"Ah, wonderful. I do need to send a letter along to Sentinel in advance. I was hoping to get in touch with the law offices of Auld and Graye."

Coin left his mentor to his business and took a seat at the offered table. Pearl kept her gaze on the fiddler by the back of the room all the while, displeasure writ large on her pretty features.

As far as musicians meant, he was more... passionate than skilled.

"Now then, you lot get comfortable and I'll fetch you some ciders. Figure you lot'll appreciate the refreshments if you've been on the road all day."

Gradually the group settled into their chairs, relaxing and catching their breath. Save for Coin. Outwardly he was leaning back, a calm expression on his face. Inwardly, his sharp eyes were surveying every other patron he could see.

Perhaps Elijah was right, maybe the Scarecrow's Perch was entirely safe and managed to sniff out potential criminals. On the other hand, Coin was willing to bet the Brotherhood were very good at blending in.

He was snapped from his thoughts when the front door creaked open, drawing his eyes. A woman, clad all in black with a broad-brimmed hat stepped inside. Her presence drew far more eyes than the arrival of Coin's group, the air around her seeming to carry a faint shimmer.

Coin stared at her in silence for several moments, knitting his brow in thought. It took him a moment to grapple with the strange sense of familiarity the woman was giving off, and it was only when their eyes met that he realised why she stood out so much to him.

It may have been ages since they last met, but it was hard to forget the first magic-user he had ever properly met. "That's... Scylla the witch," Coin murmured.