Claudia grimaced and slowly sat down. She was overheating, and pretty sure her tongue forgot how to act halfway through her delivery of what happened in Helpart.
“Thank you, Miss Ollen,” the man at the end of the table said. “Very… enigmatic report.”
Peony shuffled beside her, still standing. “I can corroborate every part of that, even as outlandish as some of it sounds.”
After a given nod of his head, the Investigator then sat down as well.
If Claudia didn’t know any better, she would think that Peony had thoroughly enjoyed her attempt to wrangle a concise story out of their prior exploits against the Nightshade. It sounded simple on the surface, but once she realized how dense that week or so was, it had been easy to stumble over some of the facts.
“That won’t be necessary, Lady Valoth.” The man shuffled some of his paperwork. “Despite the manner in which it was delivered, that matches up with the reports we already hold. Exemplary work by both yourself and the group of detectives you have taken on.”
Peony nodded politely, but kept any further thought to herself.
“Indeed…” the man tilted his head, “it seems as though they have continued working well in Galeden, even if their methods are heavy-handed.”
She smiled. “Sometimes a hammer is the right tool for the job.”
“No doubt you intend to crush the one responsible for Paulos death, as well.”
Peony winced as her fingers idly rested on her sword sheathe. “No. I believe that requires a more delicate tool.”
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Grugg tilted his head. “Like a giant goat?”
The ratman stopped and glared at him. “No. More likely it will be some eldritch monster, or undead construct. Or…” He looked back up at the slowly shrinking circle of light back up at the top of the tunnel. “Or more cannibals.”
As much as Grugg accepted that as a possibility, he was somewhat concerned they were getting into something possibly dire and even further away from the wizard. Punching things you could see was one thing, but the unknown shape deep below the village was giving him a bad vibe.
“Grugg think die down here.” His loud voice echoed down the dimly lit passage.
“Would be an opportune place if you didn’t want your body to be found.” Gregor licked his lips, and his free hand rested on his jacket where a pistol was stowed. “I’m sure your time is not yet, ser Grugg.”
He huffed in response. It was easy for the evasive Deputy to say. Grugg was a magnet for trouble, and without the wizard around and at full strength to heal him up, they had been more cautious about how much trouble they took on. Wandering into the abyss in search of snacks… or criminals… seemed a bit higher on the scale than bopping a few thugs on the head.
“Hope Grugg get some good cases after this,” he eventually decided. Something nice and straightforward with bad guys that could be intimidated into playing nice. Not creepy ghost people that wouldn’t feed him.
They stopped, as their angled descent then flattened, and the pathway led in a curved angle to the left, before stopping at a wide doorway. Closed, and with a bar over it to keep it from being opened. There was now a slight vibration in the floor, felt through their boots. A low groaning tone could barely be heard coming from the doorway, as they remaining standing still.
Grugg grinned. “Gregor still so confident?”
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Bart shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“We just don’t get many visitors…” the woman closed her mouth and looked away, pouting slightly.
“The most important thing is I deal with these detectives.” The shapeshifter stood up from the table and adjusted his leather jacket. “Then we’ll see.”
Lauren perked up at this and nodded. “Of course, business always comes first.”
Bart just about managed a grin and a nod before turning away and heading for the door. Acting was exhausting work. While he had been able to get out of her the fact that an organization was running things around here, he hadn’t found out who or why yet. Sometimes it was hard to dig things up without making it too obvious.
There were other fish he could fry, and surely one of the other villagers would have looser lips and less desire to court him. That was the trouble with being a bad boy. He slicked back his hair as he stepped back out into the damp air and constant fog. Was it getting worse?
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First port of call would be back where he had last seen the pair. No doubt they had destroyed the building that the ratman was interested in. The villagers must have investigated it by now, so he would see what damage control was required. Not that Kurt would have any sway over talking down an angry mob. In saying that, however, it was deadly quiet outside again.
He craned his head to the side before going in between a pair of houses and was perhaps unsurprised to see the villagers all sitting in the center again, their meeting back in full force. The absolutely silent and unmoving meeting. While he wasn’t surprised, he was certainly unnerved.
Walking toward the back of the buildings, it definitely seemed as though the day was darkening. They shouldn’t be anywhere near dusk yet. It didn’t feel like time was being altered here… but then again, with how weak his magical powers were lately…
He sighed to himself, his leather boots squishing through the damp mud. The body of the shapeshifter just wasn’t built for the traditional arcane arts. It was a small miracle that he had been able to grasp control of the few spells he had at present. Maybe he should stop trying, try to find a different pursuit in life? After decades of being a proficient wizard, it sounded like a terrible proposition.
Back then, however, he didn’t have the friends or vocation he currently had. It was time he found a way to be a better cog in the machine.
Bart stopped, as he caught some movement in his peripheral vision.
Turning his head, the cold feeling of recognition sunk through him in seeing the figure now staring at him from a dim alleyway.
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“Oh,” Grugg scratched at his chin. “Grugg knows what that is.”
Gregor deflated as he held the torch higher to reveal the symbol painted across the door. “Then that makes you the winner, ser Grugg.”
The flower was unmistakable. A faded black outlined the petals in the shape they were both familiar with.
Nightshade.
“Still could have cannons,” Grugg said and shrugged.
The ratman scowled at him, some brief confusion on his face. “If only ser Wizard were here, he could send a message to Lady Investigator.”
Not that they could get reinforcements or a pat on the back for a job half done, Grugg was sure. Nice to let her know in case they died, though. It didn’t seem likely, if the Nightshade didn’t have any cannons, but there was something down here that made him feel uncomfortable.
“After you, ser Grugg.” Gregor stepped backward and gestured for the cyclops to finesse the door.
Grugg nodded and placed his hand against the wooden door. Felt a little cold, but that was expected for being so far underground. The bar was on this side, so that meant they were stopped things from leaving. Usually not a great sign. Still, although it was braced across the door, he had no doubt that anyone with his strength or greater could just smash through it if they wanted to.
With a grunt, he lifted the bar out of place and rested it against the wall. Better to keep it ready just in case they had to escape and put it back. Gingerly, he grabbed hold of the wide handles and slowly pulled the doors wide open.
The smell of compost and damp earth washed over them, stronger than even in the village itself. Through the dim light, there were edges in the shadows that signaled this was a large, domed chamber. Part of the room was obscured though, and as Grugg’s eye adjusted, he could see why.
In the middle of the room, a groove sunk lower, a roughly circular shape that matched the chamber itself - just leaving a walkway around the edge. From inside this groove, long tendrils of dark brown rose up to the ceiling. Dozens and dozens of them, like some manner of strange root.
“Guess we’d better investigate.” Gregor clenched his fangs together. “As much as I’d rather burn it down immediately, we should look for evidence, ser Grugg.”
“Grugg agrees.”
Not that he was super keen. It didn’t look like something that needed punching or could be eaten. In fact, it reminded him too much of all the weird things that were beneath the dungeon in Helpart. Why did so many things have to be underground? For a mountain-dwelling cyclops, he sure had spent too much time under the ground since agreeing to settle into society.
With Thud held tightly in one hand, he led the way. Stepping out onto the walkway and sticking close to the wall.
“Of course,” Gregor began, licking his lips nervously, “if it does reach out to us aggressively, I say we take no chances.”
Setting it alight might be a short-sighted idea, but Grugg didn’t want to take any chances either. To their side, around the back-right of this chamber, was a second door. This one smaller, perhaps leading to where Nightshade had hidden their clues. Being out of sight of whatever this creature or plant-thing was seemed like the best choice for the pair to make, so he set off in that direction.
Just had to be cautious with his footing, and not fall into the middle. Easier said that done when you had poor depth perception, but his boots were secure on the dried rock.
Until his foot touched something slick.
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Bart clattered into some empty crates, his footing unable to find solid purchase on the soft mud. Pain radiated up his arm as his elbow struck the wooden edge of the object and he almost dropped his bloodied dagger to the floor.
Shapeshifting might repair his shredded outfit, but it wouldn’t heal up the wounds on his arm and legs.
He stood up straight again, sweat running down the side of his face. Not so long ago, he was a paper-thin and frail man. Reliant on his magic to get by in life. Now he was about average as far as things went, still a little softer than the rest of the Private Eyes. But all the training with Unhappy paid off. He could hold his own in small scuffles.
The creature slowly circled him, fangs dripping saliva, and a continued look of hatred in its eyes.
Of course, the training dummy never fought back - so the damage he had taken wasn’t unexpected.
“Begone, beast,” he spat, before a grin widened on his face. “I have no need to wear your abhorrent face.”
Bart turned his legs and brought the dagger up in his hand in a threatening stance. The monster backed up, lowering itself, ready to pounce forward.
The wizard took one last deep breath.
“No need, but I still will.”