“It is very strange.” Grugg scratched his belly. He supposed that hearing a voice inside your head was a pretty strange thing too; maybe it was just the change that felt weird. He shrugged at the ratman, who stood unphased across the room.
“So, what’s the plan… ser Hat?” the cynical tone in his rat voice was easily noticeable.
“Grugg would like to go to a couple of places. " He raised his hand to add to the itinerary. “Thud needs some repairs.” Glancing over at the stowed club, he felt bad it had been kept wrapped up and out of the way for most of yesterday.
Grugg looked down at his leather kilt. It had done the job of protecting his unmentionables and giving him something to wipe his hands on. But the wizard was right. It was certainly unbecoming of a man-about-town to be in such a state of undress, let alone someone purporting to be a serious detective.
“There’s a clothing shop a little east of here,” Gregor offered, “And there’s a blacksmith over by the stables.”
[Oh yeah, you have to do something for that miserable old man too.]
Grugg groaned. He had totally forgotten about Harold and his demand for the cyclops to make amends for that one time he knocked half the stables down. Maybe a little more than half. If he could get it done and out of the way on the first day possible, then at least he wouldn’t have to worry about it for the rest of his stay here.
“Something you don’t like about the stables, ser Grugg?”
“Owe the little man, Harold, a favor.”
“Oh, Harold is the worst.” Gregor grimaced, sticking his tongue out in disgust. “He is the criminal who is guilty of owning the illegal fighting ring. I did mention it was illegal, right?”
[The owner, huh, perhaps not related to either of our cases, but it wouldn’t hurt to investigate, right, Grugg?]
“Go fight, beat up bad guys. Get Harold punished for the crimes.”
The whiskers of the ratman twitched as his grimace curled up into a grin. Gregor didn’t seem to have any particular grudge against the crotchety stable owner, but took visible delight in investigating crimes. Or maybe just punishing them. Either way, he was in good company with Grugg and the now occasionally loud wizard.
“Right, I’d better get going; ser Innkeeper will be wondering where I have wandered off to. Should probably return this cart, too.” He gave it a little kick and followed with a bow towards the cyclops. “I will stick my nose in some places and catch up to you later; best of luck.”
[Tell him I say goodbye; I have to rest my energy.]
“Bart says bye. See you soon, Gregor. Thanks again for food.”
The ratman gave a quick nod as the door closed behind him; the cart being pulled along the grass with a faint rattle over the uneven soil. A short silence followed inside the room before Grugg sighed and stretched.
“Blacksmith. Clothes. Library?”
[I completely agree. And then, after Library let’s get you signed up for the illegal fighting ring and see where the rest of the day takes us. Wow, I can’t believe I just said half of that.]
Grugg looked forward to that. Assuming he was allowed to join in, at least. It was fair to think that they might not be too keen on allowing someone of such size and strength to compete against normal humanoids, but if there was anyone worth fighting here, that would be the place to find them.
[Right, before we go though, we had best check my belongings - you’ll need some of them.]
“And Thud too.” he added enthusiastically, reaching across the bed to grab the club. Unraveling the leather wrapped around the weapon, an inspection showed that his hasty work affixing the Orb to his prized possession had been a pretty ill-thought-out idea. The metal had bent in places and was showing extending cracks from where it was not malleable enough to bend under the stress of his amateur smithy work. The wood had taken some damage too, despite the unnaturally hardy green log having shown very little previous wear, it now sported various chips and dents. If the wood itself split, then he would be inconsolable. He doubted he could find another club as fitting as Thud was.
He drummed the metal tip lightly on the end of the bed, and a solid thud resounded from the wooden beam as a white light flashed across his eye. The wizard’s luggage had a multitude of outlined things in it from the get-go. Casting his eye around the room, there didn’t seem to be anything else of note. Secretly, he gave thanks. Although neither of them knew what the item found in his cave was, he was glad that at least somebody wasn’t following him around and leaving weird magic stuff wherever he slept. If they were, they should at least be courteous enough to be caught in the act so he could wallop them.
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[Alright, let’s open up my box then. Don’t worry; it isn’t trapped.]
“Uh.” The cyclops glanced down wearily at the luggage. “Why Bart said it’s not trapped?”
[Well, because it isn’t. I didn’t put some kind of magical trap on it.]
“The way Bart say that makes it sound like Bart did.”
[How else am I meant to say that it isn’t trapped?]
“Boxes usually not trapped, do not have to say it.”
[…]
“So…”
[I think I may have left some food in there.]
Grugg popped the clasp with surprising speed, given his less than nimble hands, and the luggage split in two like a clamshell, exposing all the various outlined items inside. A week prior, the cyclops would have thrown or burned the contents immediately. Instead, the stench of magic and the shapes of the various paraphernalia made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Quills, paper, small bottles with unknown contents, various little bags of components, and small metal icons littered the open case. He wasn’t sure which bits were the food, though but was interrupted before he could decide which component pouch would be the most filling to eat.
[It looks like everything is accounted for. It’s a shame most of this will be useless to us currently. The dark red felt pouch has some gold in it, though, you will need that for today's activities. No, red like blood. Blood isn’t that- yes, that’s the one.]
Lifting the felt pouch, Grugg gave the coins a quick shake. He didn’t know too much about currency, but he enjoyed the sound of the money clinking together. It almost made him sad that he would be trading some away, and there would be less noise at the end of the day. Perhaps he could earn some more sometime, to replace what he spent.
[Use what you need. I have little use for it now, but I would put some aside if we need to purchase travel at a later date. If you put the case in the crate over by the bed there, that should be safe enough. I trust Gregor enough with it, anyway; he had ample chance to try to steal from us prior if he was going to.]
The glowing outlines were now fading as he closed the luggage case; he placed it gently into the wooden crate where Thud had been. Thankfully, the box didn’t explode or do any weird magic things. Not yet, anyway. A quick pang of panic filled him as he tried to imagine how he would sleep at night now with that thing by him. He took a second to remind himself that he had a magic hat stuck to his head that had a wizard inside it who was slowly learning to cast spells from it. If he was safe with that, then the box of arcane junk couldn’t be too much to handle.
[Alright, I am going to rest for a bit - I may need my energy to cast Voice at some point later.]
“You will be there if Grugg needs?”
[Yes, I will still be listening in whilst I focus. If anything bad or awkward comes up, I will help.]
“Glad for that.” He smiled to himself, but there wasn’t much joy in it. He had been hyped up for the plan and getting things done, but now that it came to leaving and going back into the town where he felt so out of place… It was like a magical force stopping him from getting to the door.
[It’s okay to be anxious, my friend. Here, let me tell you a story.]
Grugg nodded and perched back on the end of the bed, facing the plain wooden wall. He closed his singular, electric-blue eye so that he could focus and imagine the impending tale.
[As a young man, I was pretty solitary, too - like yourself. I kept to myself with my studies and shied away from social interactions. One day, my brother approached me with some leaflet, slapping it on my desk and disturbing my work. There was some competition going on for one of the various groups or societies he was a part of. ‘Wanted - Proficient Defense Ward Arcanist’ for assisting with a demonstration they were giving. At first, I flat-out refused; there would be no chance I would be putting my spells to use in front of an audience, let alone where they would be under some form of scrutiny. Eventually, flattery won me over, and my brother managed to convince me that my defensive wards were some of the best he’d ever seen, even amongst his more established peers.]
“Was brother right?”
[There were definitely many better than I, but he did have reason to flatter to my ability. Where most wizards would veer off, seeking greater power as they advance through their lifelong studies, I focused on the practical. Spells with utility or technical facets that I could really delve into and hone. My Defense Ward was slightly slower to cast than those by other magic users but offered a lot more protection. A quicker cast was often preferred so that it could be used in combat situations. I was trying to refine the base ability of the spell, and in doing so, it increased the time to weave the necessary magic into place - but in my small Library where I studied by myself, that didn’t matter.]
Grugg nodded and lowered his head into his hand. The story wasn’t nearly as interesting as he had first hoped, and he had trouble picturing some of the more abstract parts of the story in his head. For example, he wasn’t actually sure what a library was. Instead, he imagined it as some kind of boat made of glass, mostly because that sounded amusing rather than for any practical reason.
[So on the day of the event, despite deep down not wanting to be there, I turned up, and the field they were setting up in was just completely packed with wizards and mages of all kinds. A couple of sorcerers too, even. And they all looked very prestigious and accomplished, so immediately, I was filled with dread. They had myself and two others who had volunteered to cast our Defense Wards on some training dummies. Their intent was to be testing how well their magical attacks could penetrate whatever we had put up. Just to start with, my Ward was taking much longer even after the other two had completed there; sweat was beginning to pour down my face as I felt the whole congregation just staring me down and-]
“Actually,” Grugg stood, lifting Thud up into the sling on his back. “Grugg is ready to go now.” He took a few steps over to the doorway and pushed it open, not waiting for a reply from the hat-bound Bart. He groaned and gritted his teeth.
It had just started lightly raining.