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The already cramped inn room felt even tighter with all of the Mighty Nein crammed inside, and their near-uniform coating of mud and general filth made it all the worse. Beau and Jester had mock-gagged and joked about them all smelling like Caleb the entire way back from their ill-fated scouting expedition into the sewers.
Nott was the cleanest, having scrambled onto Caleb's shoulders at the first sign of standing liquid, but even she couldn't escape the permeating stench. Although Caleb had initially balked at the goblin approaching the innkeeper alone to beg supplies, Nott's secret remained entirely safe—as soon as the first whiff reached her nostrils, the innkeeper had shooed Nott back towards their room, promising to leave washbasins, soap, and towels in the hall at no charge, so long as they did not set foot in the common room before using them thoroughly.
The door banged open as Nott entered clutching an armful of soap and towels. Jester (the next cleanest, thanks to some quick conjuring of her giant floating lollipop as the rest of them slipped into the worst of the mess) followed, lugging the last of several buckets of warm water.
As the door clicked shut again, the room erupted into a flurry of motion and shed clothing, all pretenses of modesty abandoned in a desire to be rid of the filth as fast as possible.
“Is anyone hurt?” asked Jester, cheerfully.
Amid the general chorus of denials, Molly frowned down at his coat. It, like almost every other item of clothing here, was covered in muck, but that wasn't the problem.
Fjord, who had already wriggled out of his breastplate and pulled his shirt half off, and was far from the fastest of the group, shot him a puzzled look.
“Molly? You OK?”
“Hmm? Yes, I'm fine.”
Fjord frowned.
Molly started to shrug out of the coat, but the wet fabric clung tenaciously. What had got into it today? (Well, other than sewage, he thought wryly.)
“You sure?” said Fjord, skeptically. “Not like you to be shy 'bout getting naked. Seems to me you're usually into and out of clothes faster than oughta even be possible.”
Now they had everyone's attention, with only Caleb even trying to avert his eyes. Fjord awkwardly pulled a towel higher in front of his now-bare midsection, clearly regretting saying anything.
“I would love to, Fjord,” said Molly, dryly, “and that's generally true. But today it seems that—”
The likely explanation for the problem abruptly clicked into place.
“OK, confession time,” he said, planting his hands on his hips and sweeping an accusing eye over his companions, “which of you is into striptease?”
Caleb's eyes bulged.
Nott let out a surprised cackle of mirth.
Beau sputtered an offended “Excuse me?”
Fjord turned a brilliant shade of red that should not have been achievable for a being with green skin. “I—”
“Oh, it's not you,” said Molly, waving him off dismissively, “I know that much.”
And Jester, cleaned up in record time and fully back to her chipper self, bounced on her toes, waving her hand in the air. “Ooo, me! Me! I like striptease!!!”
Molly smiled fondly at her. “Of course you do. I should have guessed.”
Fjord's face had gotten, unbelievably, even redder. “What does that have to do with—?!”
Molly continued, flashing Jester his most charming smile, “Would you be a dear and pop outside the room for a moment?”
Her hand dropped, shoulders drooping. “Awwww. Why?”
“Well, Fjord's right that I can usually get out of clothes impossibly fast,” he said with a self-deprecating shrug, “Not really sure how it works, but unfortunately, it only seems to work if it's fun. So since you're here and a fan of striptease, that seems to be working against me at the moment. And as much as I would be happy to indulge you at another time, I really would like to get out of these clothes very soon so I can stop smelling like sewage.”
Jester sighed, pouting. “OK, fine.” She trudged towards the door. “Come on, Traveler. I know you like it, too.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, Beau turned to Molly, arms folded and a sarcastic comment on her lips. Instead her jaw dropped.
Molly's clothes had already collapsed into a sodden pile on the floor, boots parked side by side next to his feet, their long tops flopping over. With a sigh of relief, he snagged one of the unused towels and a bar of soap. “Could one of you let Jester know she can come back in if she wants?”
Caleb's fingers twitched in the air, itching to cast Detect Magic even though it was clearly too late to see what Molly had done.
“The fuck?!” said Beau.
Fjord sighed heavily and grumbled under his breath, “I told you it didn't make any sense.”