Boots of Booty | ONC 2023

Part 4

13. At the Sign of the Shaggy Rabbit

A pair of journeyman wizards (to all appearances) breezed through the door of the Shaggy Rabbit. No frills of seniority or colors of specialization decorated their plain, off-white robes. Both were female. The tall one with the light skin and lighter brown hair seemed meatier than the usual half-starved arcane scholar specimen. The other one fit the stereotypical mage's body shape, though she moved with a feline grace atypical of a bookish sort. A swath of red accented a black cascade of hair that swept forward and shadowed her olive-toned face.

At this hour, patrons crowded the lamp lit tavern. Smoke thickened the air and the bray of diverse voices created a cozy hubbub. A large fireplace provided most of the light, supplemented by a smattering of candles. Two half-orcs in turquoise headbands manned the bar, one male and one female. The demands of the buzzing crowd kept their hands and feet moving. Nails pinned at least a hundred rabbit skins to the walls and rafters. Besides the rude taxidermy, there appeared to be no other art in the homely but homey establishment.

"My soul bears the weight of these thefts, Tash," Séa confided. "I will be unable to rest until the garments are returned and the shop owner hears my abject apology."

Tash's eyes roved around, trying to pierce the smoke. Vaguely, she replied, "Yes, dear."

Séa pouted. "I don't think you appreciate the gravity of the situation."

"Probably not, dear. Oh! I see Ghomarck. It's hilarious. He's dressed like a farmer."

The paladin allowed herself to be led through the maze of occupied tables to a booth situated where the firelight could not reach. A white-bearded "farmer" nursed a pint of something malty. When they approached, the noses of both women wrinkled.

Tash groused, "What is that smell? Rancid meat?"

"Rotting something," Séa said.

They slid into the booth across from the bewhiskered gentleman. He scowled fiercely at them. "I do not wish company."

Séa leaned forward and pursed her lips. "Master Ghomarck. It's us."

"What?" The old man blinked at them. "Well, so it is! How did you recognize me? I'm in disguise!"

Tash snorted. "You sure are. The magical stink is a clever touch. It's to drive away anybody that wants to be social?"

He sulked. "Am I so transparent? Gracious me. All my stratagems are laid bare."

The rogue grinned. "You'd have to beat off all the fawning ladies otherwise."

Séa's words tumbled out in one breath. "We were imprisoned, Ghomarck! Here in Jagged Keep, by the direct order of the king. He said we murdered somebody."

Ghomarck regarded them with a blank expression. "You have killed various and sundry—"

A vexed expression scrunched Tash's features. "Not in Ompex. And not anybody that didn't deserve it."

The wizard grunted acknowledgement. "True, but your reputation has mushroomed lately. You saved the king a month ago, and then two weeks ago you slew an Abyssal planelord. It's bad news that you were arrested, but given what else I can tell you, I'm not surprised."

"It was awful," Séa beamed a bright, toothy grin. "But Tash cooked up a plan and we escaped. Just now! Ta-da!" Without pause, she continued, "Gosh, is there food? I'm so hungry."

"If guards come, we have to run," Tash said.

Ghomarck pushed two small glass vials across the worn table-top. "Here. Invisibility potions. If guards do come, don't hesitate to swallow them. The effect lasts about a minute."