The Smiling Rabbit

The township was a small one, the Paladin noticed as his dungeon party nudged aside goats and chickens, and kicked dung from their boots.

The Barbarian grumbled his disgust to the leader, "I don't know why you chose this plague-hole of a town, Mayhue."

The Paladin shook his head, "I didn't. We are here to meet a fellow named Klamfydd, who claims to have a map of the Tallihurn Keep."

The party's 2nd-in-command, a female Monk named Assidrian, added, "Which we'll need if we are to find Tallah's Hammer."

"The only thing we're gonna find here is free-range goat shit."

Assidrian chuckled, "Or an STD."

The Barbarian, Ek, shrugged, "Gonna try like hell, that's for sure."

Mayhue told Ek to stick close. They might need his muscle if the meet went sour.

Two others accompanied the small troupe, a slightly-built Bard with Elvish qualities named Luc DeLuc; and a hulking bi-ped with greenish skin who toted the equipment and mostly kept silent. A Firbolg.

They stopped outside the only tavern in town and looked up at the sign, a slab of wood which had last been painted when Edgar VIII was still wearing nappies. Mayhue squinted and read, "The Smiling Rabbit?"

Ek spat into the bushes, "What the hell does that mean?"

Assidrian harrumphed, "Rabbits don't smile." She warily eyed the painted rodent on the sign and swore it was smiling at her.

Creepy.

The Firbolg, always at one with nature, corrected, "Of course they smile, Lady Assidrian. Rabbits are most joyful."

"Shut up, Duane."

"Yes'm."

Mayhue stepped to the entryway, "All right, let's go in. Duane, you stay out here and watch the door."

"Yep."

"And don't get distracted."

"Nope."

Mayhue eyed his giant, green companion and could tell the big guy was already making eyes at the trees along the forest's edge, "I mean it."

"Yep."

That was as good an answer as Duane was willing to give. Mayhue bit his cheek and led the way inside. Ek immediately abandoned them for the touch of an ale and a tankard of woman, at the bar. Luc sat by the window and quietly plucked at his lute.

Their contact was seated at the very first table. He was clad in a distinctive jacquered cloak and beads adorned his ponytailed mane. He didn't smile, but did extend a hand.

Mayhue gave him a nod, "Klamfyyd? Thank you for meeting with us."

Klamfyyd shrugged, "It sounds as if you chaps have something big planned for Tallihurn's Keep. I assume you seek the hammer?"

"We do."

"It'll cost ya."

"We know."

"All right, then. At least we know where we stand. Did you bring the payment?"

Assidrian hefted a bag which smelled of unicorn piss, which was exactly what it was.

Klamfyyd rubbed his hands together greedily, "Well, well. Aren't you folks entrepreneurial? However did you get so much?"

"Don't ask."

Assidrian laid the bag on the table, but Klamfyyd shooed it off, "People eat here!"

"Sorry."

"Put it down on the floor."

Assidrian did as she was bade, and only then did the strange man pull from his ornate cloak a scroll so old and dilapidated, it could have been from the time of the Jettymen.

There was a sudden kerfuffle at the bar, the likes of which could only be instigated by Ek. It seemed to involve some harsh language and even harsher women.

Mayhue barely heard. He was used to Ek's peculiarities. Instead, he looked at the scroll and practically salivated. He called over his shoulder, "Luc."

The little Bard was there in a moment. The addition of a Bard to a dungeon party was normally about as useful as a box of ear wax, but they did have one thing which Mayhue found beneficial: they had an unerring sense of direction.

And Klamfyyd knew it. He noticeably bristled as Luc inspected the parchment.

After a moment, Luc looked up and said, "This map leads to the Smiling Rabbit."

Assidrian's mouth dropped, "What?!"

Fire flashed in Mayhue's eyes as he addressed the stranger, "Did you try to cheat us, Klamfyyd?"

"No, no. Certainly not! I swear to you that map is real!"

But Luc disagreed with a shake of his head, "Judging by the dyes used, this map is no older than last moon."

Mayhue reached for the bag of payment, but Klamfyyd was a bit quicker. He snatched the bag with his right hand and threw down a smoke bomb with his left. In the ensuing mayhem, Assidrian noticed sunlight behind them as the front door was opened. They coughed their way to the door and looked out.

Klamfyyd was gone.

"DUANE!"

Their Firbolg friend was at the far end of the square, sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of a shrubbery.

Mayhue groaned, "We'll never find him!"

Luc sniffed the air behind the Paladin, "We could follow our noses. That unicorn piss reeks."

Assidrian motioned to the street's edge, "There is manure covering every inch of this town. The smell will overpower our noses."

Ek's voice piped up behind them, "Hey, boss? Where's our stuff?"

Mayhue whirled around, with the expectation of seeing their heaping mound of cases by Duane's side. Those cases contained everything the party owned: equipment, weapons, and treasure.

But they were suddenly among the missing.

Ek stepped forward, "I'll kill --"

But Mayhue clotheslined the Barbarian, saving the Firbolg's life in the bargain, "Let's just go, before we become the laughingstocks of Haldymir's Gate."

As the weary adventurers trudged out of town, Assidrian looked one last time at that damned mocking rabbit on the sign above the tavern's door. And for the briefest moment, she swore it winked at her, "I hate that damn rabbit."