[While on a rescue mission gone crazed, a holy warrior and a rogue fight bandits, demons, and the urge to rip each other's clothes off.]
The mission, rescuing a princess, could be going better.
Séa is an earnest paladin, honest and gullible. Tash is...
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The starlight was enough for Tash's sensitive eyes to trace a network of scars that crisscrossed Kneecap's face. An impressive number of dagger hilts protruded from his clothing at calf, thigh, belt, arms, chest, and, if her eyes did not deceive her, one stuck in the band of his tophat. He's a rogue, like me. Maybe even a Guildsman.
The old human and the Halfling attempted to reminisce about "old times at the Sign of the Sea Hag." After a minute, the attempt bogged down in mutual fits of yawns.
Kneecap waved goodbye. He retired to the interior of one of the crypts, apparently intending to sleep there. Tash was mostly sure it was some kind of gag.
As they trudged back to the inn, Séa said, "What a jester. Is he a wizard, too?"
Ghomarck said, "Not primarily, but he knows a few spells. Years ago, he and I travelled together in the same band of hotheads. He knew his locks and traps, and toward the end he learned how to turn invisible."
Tash blinked. "Oh, I need that trick."
The wizard yawned again, then grumbled, "Just to set the record straight, he's older than I am, and if you saw him in daylight you might lose your lunch."
"You're in your prime," Séa said.
"Very kind of you, Lady Séa."
How many more days is this quest going to take? I'm not sure I can stand this goody-goody pair for long. It's like travelling with unemployed bards. Ones that can't sing. Ones whose jokes can't get a laugh even when their audience is drunk.
Back inside the inn, Ghomarck disappeared into his room. In the darkness, Séa fumbled for the latch to the women's room and led the way in.
The air is wrong. Tash caught Séa's elbow. "Something's off," she whispered.
A scent tickled her nostrils. Something animal and wild, but pleasant. Oothra, the quick moon, had risen, and weak silvery light streamed through the window. The shape of the left-hand sack-of-straw bed had altered. As they watched, it changed shape to the accompaniment of a low-pitched moan.
Séa and Tash froze.
From the bed crooned a drowsy feminine voice, "You're back? I fell asleep."
Séa sounded as though her lips had gone numb. "Renna? Whew! You gave us a start."
The bed returned to a bag of straw and half-imagined monsters evaporated, leaving behind bland ordinariness. It's just Renna. That's twice she's spooked me tonight.
"Why are you," Tash started out fast, but her speech slowed down as if mired in tar. "... in ... here?" Don't be thick, Tash. Renna told us why. She just failed to specify exactly what form thanking us would take.
The shape on the bed folded and rolled, then stood upright and flowed forward. The dim moonlight gleamed on her hair and outlined smooth hips, concave waist, and bare shoulders. No hint of clothing interrupted her moonlit outline. "Why?" Renna lowered her soprano to a teasing alto. "I had hoped it would be obvious."
