Empirical Gnollage: Installmet 78 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment078.png]
Al successfully claimed enough bacon-wrapped-sausage to properly feed himself without ending up overstuffed. He retrieved his cleaning-cloth from his pack and used it to wipe the grease from his hands. Then he magicked the grease away from the cloth and put it back.
"Everything seems to be more expensive than normal here," he said as he folded up the letter he'd hastily penned, "but I know there are at least one or two things I'd like to try to get before we set out. I need to spend a few minutes looking over my notes, but once I'm done I suggest we offload the things we were going to trade for money and then do some quick shopping before we leave."
"I think that may be good, it will also give us a chance to bring Haunch out into the fresh air with us for a while before we go," Bote suggested. "Also, I'm sure the cart will be preferable to trying to carry that barrel of vinegar. I do also wish to spend a few minutes in communion with Indicina to ensure our actions today will remain in alignment with the Ineffable Plans, so perhaps our expert in discretion would like to examine the documents while we prepare?"
Gruntle grumbled a bit as he dropped down into a lazy crouch to wait, and Al handed Wikwocket the scroll-case to examine while he and Bote took care of their supernatural preparations. Al spent some time going over memetic exercises to ready his mind for the selection of magic-working that he guessed would be most useful while Bote conferred with the spirit of the divine. It didn't take too long before Al finally closed his book of notes.
"Are you done with your magic nap now?" Wikwocket asked him..
"It's not a nap, it's meditation! I had my eyes open to look at my notes and everything!" Al protested.
"Could have been a magical illusion to make me think you were awake! Anyway, since you're awake now, we're going back into vampire-bug land again, right? Do we have any more of that smelly flea-paste left?"
"Not enough, but I was going to take the trace we have left over to the apothecary and see if she's got anything like it. I'm assuming the local goddess protects Hell's Bathtub from bugs, but there are a lot of people that have to leave and go home eventually. I imagine there's some demand for something to protect people once they go through the gates and end up back on the road to somewhere else."
"So, what you're saying is that if we buy all of it, a bunch of wealthy nobles are going to be sucked dry by mosquitoes?" Wikwocket asked hopefully.
Al rubbed his forehead and sighed.
"No, I'm not saying that at all. At the prices they charge here, I doubt we could even afford to buy enough to make that much of a difference."
"Unfair!" Wikwocket complained. "Don't worry, I'll think of something."
"You know, saying that just makes me worry more," Al replied.
----------------------------------------
Al deflected some further questions about the possibility of tampering with the apothecary's products to make them attract biting insects and whether or not there was such a thing as "mosquito demons" that Al might potentially conjure up. He finally managed to grind the topic to a halt by referring to it as "arthropod-mediated desanguination of aristocratic individuals of high net wealth". Bote grabbed the collection of Elvish religious scrolls to bring along, and promised to find a courier to take Al's letter to Notamimic Manor. Al decided to ask Gruntle to help him carry the barrel of vinegar instead of using magic. Wikwocket's disgusted glare at Al's excessively erudite speech lasted for the entire walk to the stables.
As they party arrived, The donkey stood calm and still while a stablehand brushed him down. Haunch's eyes were half-shut and he gave a quiet groan of contentment.
"It appears you are being well cared for here," Bote called out, and received a cheerful neigh in return.
Al gave Bote a questioning look. "You can talk to him?"
"Of course," the dwarf answered, "we all can, should we choose to do so."
"We have talking-to-animals magic? What did he say?" Wikwocket excitedly asked.
"He tells us he is happy and content, but there is no magic involved, one simply needs to recognize what a happy donkey looks like."
"Aw, I wanted magic," Wikwocket pouted.
"And how do you know what a happy donkey looks like?" Al asked, genuinely curious.
"They are not much different from mules. There is a particular breed of mule, that some of our barley-farmers produce from their workhorses. They have a good temperament for the mines. Our helpful friend Haunch seems to have similar mannerisms."
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The donkey under discussion turned to sniff at the still slightly floral-scented gnoll as Gruntle and Al set the barrel of vinegar down on the cart.
"We thought you might like to get out and walk around a bit," Bote told Haunch as Al worked to get him hitched back up to the cart. "I would assume we do not intend to take him with us back into the swamp, as we should not need to bring back more than we bring with us, and it may not be easy to protect him from the natural dangers there while we go about our tasks inside the Lavatio."
"Hmmm, no, you're right. Sorry, donkey, we'll need to leave you behind. I'm sure that totally breaks your heart, though, passing up a nice blood-sucking swamp for this cruel stable," Al suggested sarcastically, and offered the stablehand a silver coin for his efforts. Finally tightening the last buckle, Al led Haunch out of the stable and into the street, heading for the apothecary. The sun had barely risen above the horizon to shine on the fading fog in the air, but a few other customers seemed to be up and about already. A trio of well-dressed, sour-faced people some distance away seemed to take notice of Gruntle, then turned and walked away muttering amongst themselves. A woman wearing the most expensive-looking servant clothing Al had ever seen passed by, walking a large mastiff on a surprisingly delicate leash. The dog stood up on her hind legs and barked happily to get their attention and the woman holding the leash looked up to wave cheerfully as well. Wikwocket returned the gesture with a grin.
"They liked our little game of absolutely not tormenting some of the nobility," she explained.
The shopkeeper at the STATIONER - APOTHECARY appeared to be in the midst of opening business for the day. Al saw her unlock the door and then stop in front of the shop window when she noticed Al and his associates approaching. She stared for a long moment before moving away from the window towards the counter. She was still watching with disbelief as Gruntle helped Al heft the barrel and carry it through the door into the shop.
"I had heard someone was...," she said quietly. She turned to Al and gestured towards Gruntle. "Who is...no, never mind, not my business. But may I at least ask if this is your doing?"
"I suppose you could truthfully say that," Al hedged.
"Hey, we helped!" Wikwocket insisted.
"Anyway," Al continued, "this is the vinegar I mentioned yesterday if you'd like to inspect it."
The shopkeeper came out from behind the counter, approaching warily but fascinated by Gruntle. She looked the gnoll over, and seemed to have to stop herself from reaching out to touch the scars on his side.
"Impressive attention to detail," she told Al with apparent sincerity, then forced her attention away and down to the barrel. She donned a set of thin leather gloves, and took a set of protective goggles out of a pocket and put them over her face, and then pried out the cork with her fingers. It came out with a POP! and a few drops of the glowing bluish-green contents spattered across the top of the barrel. She wrinkled her nose and leaned back.
"Whoo! That's definitely vinegar!" she asserted, then slowly leaned back down to examine the glowing spots. She reached into another pocket and fetched out a ring of metal of the sort that one might expect to have keys dangling from it. This one, instead, had a collection of small circular pieces of tinted glass in metal-wire frames, each a different color. She selected a few different colors and regarded the glow of the vinegar through several of them. She nodded.
"Yes, I suppose I could find some use for this. I'd be willing to pay you forty...fifty gold coins for it. Is this acceptable?"
"Yes, it is, I'm just glad someone can get good use out of it. We don't really need it and it's bulky and heavy. You may get some of it back before we walk out of here - we're heading out into the swamp again and we're wondering if you can formulate something like this," Al responded, pulling out the small crock containing the last little bit of the flea ointment. He handed it over for inspection.
"What an odd formulation!" the shopkeeper exclaimed as she sniffed the scent of the ointment. "Is this meant to repel insects?"
"Well, yes, it was meant as a flea ointment. It seemed to work reasonably well to keep the flies and mosquitoes off of us, though."
The shopkeeper looked again at Gruntle, and laughed. "You really are committed to this, aren't you. I can assure you that my own formulation is more well adjusted for our particular pests."
They ended up surrendering ten of the gold coins back, but in Al's opinion forty gold coins and several large jars of viscous oil that would supposedly repel not only insects but any of the normal blood-hungry creatures in the swamp was still a good deal. The oil's odd flowery scent was less offensive than the minty-sheep smell of the flea ointment, too.
They helped the shopkeeper move the barrel into her workshop and then bid her farewell.
"It may save us some time if I go do my business at the temple while you return Haunch to his comfortable lodging, We may meet back up in our room to equip ourselves to set out then, and perhaps be at the Lavatio by mid-day." Bote suggested. They patted the donkey's neck gently. "Do not worry, we should return within the day if the Ineffable Plans do not require otherwise," they reassured the donkey.
"Yeah, if nobody else objects, that sounds good to me. The sooner we get started, the less likely we're going to be stuck out there after nightfall."
----------------------------------------
Al thought he saw Haunch try to take a step to follow Gruntle after they'd gotten him back to his stall and unhitched from the cart. A bag of oats supplied by a stablehand settled him down and the party returned to their room. Bote joined them soon after while they loaded their packs. Bote set a cloth bag of coins into the lead-lined chest, and set three small scrolls on their bed.
"We discussed religious matters and decided that the manifest benedictions belong with us, as surely we were lead to find them for a reason," they announced. Bote respectfully loaded them into their pack.
Then, they slathered themselves with with the pest-repelling oil and set off for the southern gate.
Larry the guard refused to look at them as he opened the gate and let them out, so he didn't see Wikwocket giving him a very toothy smile.