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."

Tash made her bottle disappear beneath her robe. "Things are looking up, a little. Séa, you catch Ghomarck up on what happened to us while I fetch dinner. Ghomarck, can I have some coin? The fecking government took all our money."

Tash bought meals, Séa related her news, and soon enough the women were slurping stew and quaffing ale like Fjordling berserkers freshly returned from an overseas raid.

The wizard beamed at their gluttony with fond indulgence. "My story begins with Drassel Planewalker. He's some sort of mixed breed, but I'm sure he's got a little bit of demon in him, and maybe some djinn. Anyway, he's a curio merchant, and he really does travel the planes. Some folk have a talent for it. Every few years, he shows up in Liria or Omnius with a lizard-drawn cart of assorted treasures. He lets the local guilds know where and when, and he sets up shop for a night."

The wizard patted himself down. "Where is my pipe? A Drassel bazaar is not to be missed. Items rare, items magical, items bizarre, or items mundane, he has them all. Nothing is guaranteed, of course. Buyer beware. But I brought a sack of my reward money in hopes of obtaining some unique trinket or artifact."

"When was this?" Tash said around a mouthful of stew-soaked bread.

"A scant tenday ago." Forgetting his pose as a farmer, the wizard ignited his pipe with an arcane gesture. He drew upon the stem vigorously, then waved away the cloud of smoke so he could see his audience. "I attended the bazaar and it was everything I hoped. Weapons, oddments, books, jewelry. The trading started brisk and accelerated from there. I had my eye on a particular magical tome I ached to read. But the words 'boots of booty' caught my ear."

"The boots of booty?" Séa said. "How peculiar."

"Sounds familiar, but I'm not placing the reference," Tash said.

Ghomarck waved his pipe, adding smoke to the thick atmosphere. "King Pharing's father owned them. But he was killed in the Uncivil War, and his personal treasures were lost."

"Oh, yeah," Tash said. "The adamant dirk. I remember that."

"And the boots of booty," Ghomarck said. "Supposedly lucky, they were. Anyway, I glanced over to find the owner of the voice and who did I see?"

"I don't know," Séa said.

"It was a rhetorical question," the wizard huffed. "I saw Ophelle, the king's steward. She held out a pair of boots to Drassel and exchanged them for a gem-studded circlet. My jaw dropped. How had she come to possess the boots of booty, if indeed she had identified them correctly? As for the circlet, I got one clear view of it. I tried to memorize its appearance before Ophelle tucked it out of sight and left the bazaar."

"Steward Ophelle," mused Tash, "wore a circlet with gems the moment we were arrested. And something about her made me feel ... strange."

"Oh, yes. And I'll tell you why," the wizard said.

"Say on," Tash said, diving back into what little remained of her bowl of stew.

"Well, firstly, let me mention that I bought the boots of booty. And then I spent the next few days in research. I confirmed that the boots were the genuine articles."

"Fascinating," Séa said.

"Indeed! Subsequently, working from memory, I managed to identify the circlet. It's a circlet of subversion." He waggled his bushy white eyebrows and tapped the side of his bulbous nose. "An ancient artifact that melded great arcane power with demonic intent. It was crafted by the greatest and most tragic of enchantresses, Zon-Daria, at the height of her powers — and her folly."

"What does it do?" the paladin said.

The wizard sucked on his pipe, then exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "Domination. Mind control. But more than that, suggestions that its user implants into the minds of its victims persist without effort. Essentially, the wearer becomes the most persuasive person in the multiverse."

"Eh, now?" Tash protested. "Surely it's not infallible."

Ghomarck waved his pipe around, tracing curlicues of smoke in the air. "There are the usual caveats. The imposed commands fade after some days. Contradictory commands tend to cancel each other. Some extraordinary expenditure of willpower may ameliorate the effects of the command."

"Wait a moment." Tash's brows knit. "She used it on me. I'm almost sure of it. I was about to try to scamper away before the guards grabbed me." She gripped her spoon so tightly her knuckles whitened. "But this unstoppable voice told me to be still. How did I not remember this, before? I'm only remembering it clearly now."

"Are you all right?" Séa laid an arm over Tash's shoulders.

"I feel violated!" Her vexed expression cleared. "But I'm fine." The rogue arched an eyebrow at Ghomarck. "What about defenses? What can you do beforehand to ward it off?"

The wizard took another long pull at his pipe. "Be — an inanimate object? Some wizards know warding spells that protect the mind specifically. I don't, alas. I'm sorry to say I can't think of anything helpful." He leaned forward and tapped the tabletop. "I'm trying to piece together what and why. So Ophelle obtained the circlet of subversion, an Abyssal artifact of legendary power. Why? What does it have to do with the murder of Ter-Ferras?"

"Is that the high mage?" Séa said.

"Yes."

The paladin scraped the bottom of her stew bowl, trying to garner one more spoonful. "We heard about that a little bit ago. And that the wizard council disbanded. And that the royal guards were all sent away on vacation."

"What?" Ghomarck's bushy eyebrows rose on his forehead. "But that's significant."

Séa nodded her head up and down, then ingested the last of the stew. "Did you know about the quasits?"

"What?" The wizard nearly dropped his pipe. He bobbled it, and smoldering tobacco leaves and hot ashes spilled to the table. "No! Where? When?"

"Jagged Keep, recently. They worried the gate officer, for sure."

Tash chipped in, "So much so that he let us go free. But Séa, here, promised to help."

The paladin removed her arm from Tash's shoulders and peered into her face. "I can help, can't I?"

The corners of Tash's lips lifted. "Yes, dear. I'm with you on this, for sure. Remember, they've also locked my money away. I'm getting that back if I have to tear down Jagged Keep stone by stone."

The wizard flapped his hands in agitation. "But don't you realize what this means?"

Séa said, blandly, "Demons are taking over Omnius."

Ghomarck spluttered, "It means demons are taking over—" He blinked and shrank back into his seat. "Yes, quite right." He leaned forward again and banged his pipe on the table. "But it's preposterous! It's horrible! And it's unprecedented." Abruptly, he retreated again. He whimpered, "And the wizard council hasn't a clue. I'm sure of it. Only you and I and the gate officer have figured it out."

Séa added, "And the demons. I'm going to bet that the steward—" She squinted. "Offal? Olaf?"

"Ophelle," said Ghomarck.

The paladin beamed approval at the wizard. "Ophelle. Well, she's either a demon or she's the first one that got dominated. The king was second. Everybody obeys the king. It's genius, credit where credit is due."

"Nice thinking, Séa," Tash said. "Since when do you understand palace intrigue?"

"I don't. I just study demons." She wiggled her fingers in lame mimicry of a scary ghost. "And they're eeeeeevil. Is there any more stew?"

"No more stew." The rogue narrowed her eyes. "You'll give yourself cramps and slow us down."

"Ugh. But I'm still hungry."

"Ladies," Ghomarck said with solemn face, "you're at least half a step ahead of me. What's your plan?"

The paladin shrugged. "Get back to the castle, armed, and kill demons until the problem goes away."

Tash snorted. "We'll have to be a little subtler than that, I think. But I generally agree with Séa. My thought is to steal the circlet. If I did, could I start controlling people? Like, does it require training, or could I just expect people to obey me?"

"Nice thought, Tash," Séa said.

The wizard pursed his bewhiskered lips and took his time in answering. "Its operation is not particularly magical or subtle. You stand a good chance of being able to figure it out."

"Right. Good to know. At the moment, all I have is a dagger and, thanks to you just now, an invisibility potion. It should be enough to get us in, but I would like proper gear. Is there a local thieves' guild in Ompex?"

The old man wagged his head back and forth in ponderous negation. "I only have a few gold coins. I can't bankroll this." He stroked his beard with a slow hand. "However, I can smuggle you into the keep by a secret entrance. In ordinary times, I'd be ejected from the wizard council for revealing it to someone outside the circle. But this is a desperate hour. I can draw you map of the nearby passages." He showed his teeth in an uncomfortably feral grin. "Including the location of the armory. Add to that one minute of invisibility and you should have no problem obtaining virtually anything you desire."

The rogue and paladin met each other's eyes. Simultaneously, they swiveled their head to the wizard. "Start drawing," said Tash.

ONC Recommendation: 

Read this dark fantasy by -dreamsinwords :

After her silent vengeance culminates in a violent last battle, Selvali stands amidst the deadly silence of her fathers' desolate empire in Ghonami. Desolate, until a mangled, trembling hand rises from beneath the bodies — and a face looks up. A face of a person who, in just a fleeting few days, would force Selvali to face her past, her pain, and her deepest fears.

The face of Erappuyal, the cursed clairvoyant.