“He should be perfectly fine.” Said a nurse after she’d finished bandaging up Firion’s side.
The hotel room was blue and white with square windows and blue drapes next to the bed. The floor was light brown wood, polished nicely and made to not give slivers. On the window side next to the bed was a table with a clock. In front of the bed was a fireplace with a large fire lighting up the room. Closer to the door was a table with multiple chairs. It was the evening when they had first arrived there. Firion’s jacket was on a chair by the table and his chest plate and chainmail shirt was on the table, only leaving on a dirty brown t-shirt. Ashla took off her robe (which she practically never did since Woros was always freezing and so it was grimy and smelled horrible) and had turned her fur pants right side out. Her shoes were next to the door and her staff was in a closet next to the door with Firion’s and the Dwarf’s weapons and her backpack. Ashla’s skin had changed to a light brown color and her hair was bright green and was very messy. The Mandarin Dwarf had removed his purple cloak (which was lazily thrown on the ground) showing standard light armor which he wore underneath. Ashla was sitting at the end of Firion’s bed while the Dwarf was sitting at the table.
The Dwarf glanced away. “Pff, obviously.”
The nurse walked away from Firion and looked at Ashla then the Dwarf.
“By the way, how did he receive that wound? I forgot to ask.”
The Dwarf shot up. “Uuuh, heeee, fell into a bush of thorny plants!
“Really, I didn’t know we had such dangerous thorns here?”
“W-well there are.”
“I’m not trying to seem like I’m asking too many questions but I’m just surprised. His wound looked too deep and precise to just be from thorns. Well, I’ll be! It was almost like an ax went through him! Are you sure it was thorns and not anything else?”
Firion sat up. “No, it was definitely thorns. I was walking along when I tripped and fell into a bush. Seriously thorns are waaay more lethal than people give them credit for. Did you know that more people die from thorns than from terrorist attacks each year?”
“Wow… I learn something new everyday huh? Well I guess I’ll leave you to yourselves.” The nurse said cheekily.
“O-ok!” Everyone said awkwardly.
The nurse packed away her supplies and headed out the door before looking back.
“The Dwarf did it, did he?”
“Yep.” Everyone said.
“Should I ask?”
“Nope.”
She closed the door a bit.
“You know technically I’m supposed to report things like this right?”
“Please don’t, we eh, we got everything resolved.” Ashla said.
“Ok” The nurse said as she closed the door and walked off.
The Dwarf crossed his legs. “Well that happened.”
Firion and Ashla looked at him.
Firion nodded. “You know, I must say. These couple of days have been the absolute weirdest days of my life.”
The Dwarf nodded his head. “I agree with you. Ha, now that’s weird in and of itself.”
Firion tilted his head. “By the way, what’s your name anyways? I always thought of you as a Twan.”
The Dwarf scoffed. “The name’s Locke, Locke Smith.”
“Locke, hmmm, Gregory sounds better.”
“No it does not! What kind of name is Gregory?!” Said Locke.
Ashla butted in. “I think we have more pressing issues than which name sounds better.”
Firion and Locke looked at each other before crossing their arms.
“Fine, we’ll agree to disagree.” Locke concluded.
