Empirical Gnollage: Installment 75 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment075.png]
The bartender opened the door for the four adventurers, revealing that any bedroom furniture that might once have been there had been removed, and there was now a rectangular table surrounded by chairs. Cyrus Borge sat at the far end of the table with an empty plate, wineglass, and a hand-bell. Wineglasses and plates had been set in front of the four other chairs. The bartender returned back down the stairs as Wikwocket preceded the rest of the party into the room. Cyrus raised an eyebrow as Gruntle followed everyone in.
"I am quite impressed," Cyrus said to Al, "how long can you keep him like that? I'm led to believe it takes quite a lot of magical potency to maintain a transformation for long."
"Oh, not as much as you might think," Al said a little nervously, taking a seat. Bote and Wikwocket sat to his right, while Gruntle moved the chair aside and crouched at the table to Al's left. Cyrus reached into a pocket somewhere under his white and gold shirt, and pulled out a monocle on the end of a silver chain. He set the gold-framed lens in front of his right eye and gently rubbed a finger around the rim, which Al noted had complex arcane sigils engraved in it. Cyrus must have noticed Al tensing and raising a hand defensively.
"Very observant," Cyrus said calmly to Al with a small smile, "but don't worry, this isn't harmful, I'm just looking." Then, he quietly spoke a phrase that reminded Al of part of his magic-visualizing ritual. Cyrus closed his left eye and stared at Wikwocket through the monocle lens. Al had uncharitable thoughts about Cyrus' focus for a moment before realizing that he was looking where Wikwocket wore Aemilia's protective amulet. Then his gaze moved down to where her dagger was. After a moment, he moved on to Bote whose right hip seemed to be of some mild interest, then quickly over to Al, where he focused on Purgatio for several seconds, then the spot under Al's robes where he had his mace-wand hidden. Finally, he looked up at Gruntle, and froze with an expression of shock on his face.
"What? What is it?" Al asked with some concern, but got no answer.
The monocle dropped to dangle on its chain as Cyrus quickly stood, shoving his chair back and drawing his spider-marked dagger from under his shirt, and Gruntle stood with a manic grin in response to lunge forward at him across the table. Wikwocket leapt up onto the table as well, drawing BiteySue and her dagger, and Al stood up quickly with his mace-wand in one hand and the other held out, pleading for calm.
"Wait! Wait, what's wrong?" Al shouted, hoping for some way to calm the situation. He was startled to see that before he'd even finished speaking, Cyrus groaned and clutched his head, and Gruntle collapsed limply onto the table with a yelp, wrapping his arms around his abdomen. Cyrus ignored the sword and dagger Wikwocket threatened him with, keeping his eyes and the point of his dagger aimed at Gruntle.
"That is a gnoll!" he growled through clenched teeth, still clutching his head in pain with his free hand.
"Duh," Wikwocket responded, entirely unimpressed. She kept her blades ready for stabbing to defend Gruntle if necessary.
"That is an actual gnoll! Not someone transformed by magic! How did you get that in here?"
"What did you do to him?" Al asked in turn.
"Nothing!" Cyrus insisted, "Now help me finish it off before AARGH!" His dagger wavered as he squinted his eyes shut and cried out in pain.
Gruntle looked up at the sound, and seeing his attacker momentarily indisposed he began another lunge, reaching out towards Cyrus, but then immediately curled back up on the table, whining and making retching sounds.
"What is happening here?" Al demanded to know.
"There is one answer to all of your questions," Bote explained, still sitting calmly amid the drama. "Both Gruntle and Cyrus have been allowed into Hell's Bathtub after swearing an oath to Balnea Infernala, which included a prohibition on attempting to harm other customers. Both are currently violating that oath by attempting to do violence to one another outside an arranged duel at the dueling house, and are being punished for it. The punishment will likely cease when your efforts to harm one another do. Gruntle, if you vomit on the table, it will certainly delay our dinner."
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"...sick...," Gruntle groaned, much to Cyrus' surprise. The mysterious merchant slowly lowered his dagger. He breathed heavily but his face relaxed as the intense headache receded.
"It talks? It took the oath?!" Cyrus asked, incredulous. He kept the dagger ready to defend himself, but seemed to be feeling better now that he wasn't actively threatening anyone with it.
"He does, and he did, yes," Al replied, his irritation evident in his voice. Then he sighed. "Well, I was assuming something like this might eventually happen with him being one of us. At least it didn't happen in a public crowd."
"One of us?" Cyrus repeated, "Like it's..." He saw Al's glare. "Like he is a person? This is unprecedented." Gruntle glared up at him, then curled back up with a whine. "Is...he going to keep trying to kill me?" Cyrus asked.
"Probably, you did try to kill him first," Al speculated.
"Yeah, anybody would be pretty angry about that," Wikwocket added, returning BiteySue to her sheathe and tucking her dagger back into her belt, seeing that the action seemed to have concluded.
Cyrus thought for a long moment, then coming to some satisfactory conclusion he slowly returned his dagger back to where it had been beneath his shirt. His facial expression gradually remolded itself from confused and worried to thoughtful, and perhaps even a little intrigued.
"I apologize," he said to Gruntle, who was still panting uncomfortably and curled up on the table with his arms clasped around his stomach. "for misjudging the circumstances here. What must I do to de-escalate this situation?"
"Well, there is one thing that probably works," Al suggested.
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Al, Wikwocket, and Bote persuaded Gruntle to crawl back off of the table and return to his place, and Cyrus picked up the hand-bell from the table and rang it. Neatly-dressed servers arrived moments later with trays of food and bottles of wine. At Al's urging, once the servers had left Cyrus picked up a slab of steak and tentatively offered it to Gruntle. He flinched as the gnoll leaned forward and clamped onto the meat with his teeth, then relaxed as the meat was quickly chewed and swallowed.
"Thanks. Cyrus," Gruntle pronounced slowly, and a lopsided disbelieving grin grew on Cyrus' face. He offered the gnoll another piece of meat.
"Your aspirant has brought the cause something very valuable. We look forward to welcoming them soon," Cyrus told Wikwocket.
"We're not bringing him to anyone, he's ours," Al insisted. Cyrus nodded.
"Of course, of course, but even the knowledge that this is possible is valuable. I hope you will share more information before we end our meeting tonight, but for now I think we should address our original agenda," Cyrus said, standing to fill everyone's wineglasses from the bottle on the table. Once everyone had food on their plates, Cyrus began his explanation.
"The Lavatio," he said between morsels of medium-rare steak, "is believed to be a facility similar to Hell's Bathtub, from the previous Elven population that lived in the area centuries ago. For unknown reasons it seems to have been abandoned and the swamp has been engulfing it. It was rediscovered perhaps seventy-five years ago during the early days of Hell's Bathtub's founding but not extensively explored due to the unpleasantness of spending time in the swamp and the obvious state of ruin that the buildings were in."
Cyrus took a drink from his wineglass and continued. "It seems that the increasing popularity of Hell's Bathtub has brought some complaints from some of the wealthier and more elite customers about having to be in the presence of less-prestigious people..."
"Hey! That's us!" Wikwocket whispered loudly to Al with a malicious grin.
"...so the magistrate would like to revisit the restoration of the Lavatio as a more exclusive part of Hell's Bathtub," Cyrus continued, "They don't want to advertise this widely, because they don't want to offend their current customers or make the Lavatio widespread knowledge, so they've been quietly waiting for suitable visitors to offer the job to for a while now. Very few adventurers make their way down here, so you've come at an opportune time. If you're willing, they will contact you with the details, but fundamentally what they need is a simple mission to inspect the place and clear out anything that would be excessively dangerous to the work-crew that will be hired to restore the place."
"Oh, that sounds exciting!" Wikwocket said, "what sort of excessively dangerous things are there?"
"Formally, we do not know. Possibly swamp-vermin. There are some vague records from the early days of Hell's Bathtub that suggests a few curiosity-seekers went to explore the ruins and never returned. There are also still rumors of someone or something screaming or crying that can be heard in the area. Other than that, not much is known. Informally..."
Cyrus paused and reflexively scanned the room for possible hidden spies. Seeing none, he continued.
"Informally, the cause has its own interest in the Lavatio. We believe someone or something may have been dabbling in the necromantic arts in the area around the time of Hell's Bathtub's founding. Divination is an inexact art as I'm sure you know, but we believe something was left behind in the ruins. We have no details, but we believe it is something that is not humanish, it is something corporeal, and it represents a danger to the world outside the Lavatio should it escape. Assuming our divination is true, we want to contain whatever it is in a still-animate state, so that we can examine it to learn more about whoever or whatever made it. Bring it to us, and that will be your service. If you can't subdue it without...neutralizing it, or if you find no evidence that such a thing is actually there, we will still accept your payment instead, and you will still be offered access to the former library to look for your book."
Cyrus stopped to cut another piece of steak and allow the others to speak.
"Great," Al sighed, looking accusingly up at the ceiling and shaking his head, "first demons, then possibly fae, and now the undead. I'm going to end up dealing with every sort of doesn't belong in this world thing that can be found, aren't I."
"That's good!" Wikwocket said encouragingly, "That's what you've been reading about, right? Nothing beats actually experiencing something to learn about it!"
"Well...," Al agreed, reluctantly, "I can't say that I disagree with that."
"Then this arrangement will be mutually satisfactory?" Cyrus prompted, taking another drink of wine.
"Yes!" Wikwocket answered before Al could speak up.
"I'm glad that we can help each other further our cause. Now that we've dealt with that, why don't you tell me more about this gnoll of yours?"