The afternoon sun struggled against the rolling gray sea of rain clouds, the occasionally bright bloom of freedom soon dulled by the encroaching cover. Grugg’s usual joy over the rain taking a brief pause was blunted by a glum mood he couldn’t shift. His large, bare feet splashed in the little puddles of the rain-slick cobbled street as he followed the Captain away from the tavern.

For a moment, he had been having fun. He had Bart and Gregor by his side against some clear targets. They deserved of all the justice he wanted to bring down upon them with his humble fists. But now the wizard was resting, the ratman had vanished, and perhaps worst of all - he was without Thud. For somebody who left their tribe to be solitary, he sure had been enjoying having a new misfit tribe of his own forming. Pushing those thoughts aside and focusing on the issues at hand was better.

First off - he didn’t get on too well with authority. Living on his own in the wilderness, there was nobody to answer to. The yeti he had killed, there would be no reparations for unless they chose to come to enact their own revenge. An element of ‘might makes right’ loosely governed the areas not under the specific jurisdiction of one of the many civilizations on the continent. He could barely put up with his tribal elders.

Being in a town under the strict law of whatever it was they had decided to write down on some fancy paper was one of the least appetizing parts of the whole adventure. If he would get told off every time he happened to kill or maim a bad guy, then it would suck the joy out of the experience. Moreover, the ideas of courts, trials, or proving guilt were as foreign to him as most of what Bart would waffle on about.

And yet, here he was, following this tin can of a half-orc throughout the town just because he asked him to. It was mostly for the wizard’s sake; he had tried to tell himself if he got kicked out of the town again, then they wouldn’t be able to follow up on the leads for the investigation. But things were getting more complicated now, and he really didn’t want to let Bart down.

“Here we are then, Grugg. Please, mind your head.” The Town Captain took the cyclops out of his thoughts as the half-orc gestured towards a building in front of them.

It was slightly larger than most of the presumably residential houses near it, made of darker brown wood and gray slate stone that was common in the town. The ground-floor windows had metal bars latticed across the openings, but the two floors above it had normal shuttered glass windows. Two Town Guards stood flanking the main entrance to the building, wearing similar silver armor with amber trimmings as the Captain. In unison, they saluted quickly and nodded as Wanu approached, holding the door open for them both.

Grugg leaned down and turned sideways to fit through the doorway, which opened up to a small lobby. A woman sat at a desk, inscribing some notices with a quill, as two other guards stood by the right side discussing a town map that took up the majority of that wall. Several doorways led from this room, and muffled murmurs could be heard throughout the building. Grugg was predominantly focused on a half-eaten pastry that sat on the desk beside a stack of parchment.

“I apologize,” the Captain turned to him, “This building was not constructed with a person of your stature in mind. I am trying to make it more accessible, but the town treasurer has been… less than helpful.” A humorless smile briefly crossed his tusked mouth before fading. “My office is this way, please.”

With a quick gesture, he led the cyclops to the left of the main desk, past a door composed of latticed metal bars, to a modestly solid wooden door. It had a small brass plaque in the center, but Grugg had been too preoccupied with giving the tabled treat a last longing glance to peer down and read it before the Captain swung it open.

As he entered, he stopped and stared, wide-eyed, bewildered, around the small office. He had never seen so much order to everything. To call the room cluttered would be doing a disservice to the person who had arranged all manner of tiny statues, ornaments, and decorative pieces that Grugg had no inclination to their purpose or function. Every surface seemed to be a potential meeting place for these small objects - tables, cabinets, shelves, and even the edges of the dark wooden desk, save for an allowed working area.

“You’ll have to excuse my collection. We all have our vices.”

“Captain makes these?” Grugg squatted to observe the closest shelf laden with ornaments, not daring to get too close lest he clumsily break some. He smiled, as amongst the various shapes of animals and creatures, he spied a little goat made of a smooth gray stone.

“No, unfortunately, I don’t have the patience or fine motor skills for it.” The Captain took a seat at the opposite side of the desk. “I have them sent to me from various craftspeople on the continent - some from further afield. You should see my home.” A sheepish smile emerged as he glanced across his collection before remembering his station, becoming stoic and professional once more. Removing his plate gloves, he gestured to a wide, armless chair for Grugg to sit.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Gingerly, he did so. It was quite a low chair, and looking at the half-orc, it seemed it was designed that way so that he would look shorter than the Captain. Itching at his left arm, he looked down to see that most of the light cuts were now nothing but pink slivers on his skin, barely even fresh scars anymore. The wizard was really able to do fantastic things; perhaps he should get into fights more often. Magic was beginning to grow on him.

“Now,” the Captain began, taking stock of some paper on his desk. “Grugg, you live up in the Walpeaks, correct? Says here, you had a bit of a… disagreement with Harold once before?”

Grugg nodded, starting to feel a bit out of place. Coming here might have been a mistake.

“Don’t care for the man much myself, and it doesn’t say that any criminal reports were filed, so as far as that goes - it is just a personal matter between the two of you to resolve if necessary.” Captain Wanu shuffled the page behind some others and unclipped the shoulders of his armor so that he could remove it. “So, for what do we owe the pleasure of your current visit?”

Now, giving up the secrets he currently held would probably not be a good idea. It was unlikely someone would believe him that the supposedly poisoned wizard was residing in the hat he wore. Still, he couldn’t exactly lie, either. “Am doing investigating.”

The half-orc shifted in his chair as he removed the metal armor and placed it beside his desk. Then, turning back to the cyclops, he tilted his head. “Investigating? Please enlighten me as to what you are seeking.”

Grugg shuffled in his chair uncomfortably. The Captain wouldn’t buy that he had known the wizard, as the tavernkeep had done. Wanu had a sharpness to him that would cut through such hastily concocted obstacles to the truth. What would the wizard tell him to say? Being on his own in these situations was starting to become stressful, and he walked back to his earlier intention to get into more fights. But then - that was it!

“Yeti boss on mountain got too big for head. Had connection to those stinky men back at tavern.”

“The Nightshades?”

“Yuh.” It wasn’t a bad reason, and only half untrue. “Grugg's assistant tracked them down to falling apart tavern. Nightshade did not like being found.”

“Hmm.” The Captain placed his hands together and closed his eyes, putting together the jigsaw pieces of the last-minute explanation for himself. “So, they started a scuffle and sent for help. That’s when my men got wind of it - they were sloppy with the backup and were not as subtle as they are known for.”

Blinking his one blue eye, Grugg held his tongue, waiting for the half-orc to fill out the gaps in the story for him.

“They overplayed their hand at your prodding into their business; had we not shown up when we did, there would probably be a lot less of them, and a lot less of you, to tell the tale.”

The cyclops nodded. A few broken bones here and there, but he didn’t do as much damage to the Nightshade troops as he could have. If they had met outside the town, away from the confines of the law, then he would have been a bit rougher. Likewise, if they had thought to show up with a few more ranged weapons, he himself would have come off a lot worse.

“My question then, Grugg, is this: were your questions answered? What did you find out from your investigation?”

“Grugg found out there are a lot more criminals in town than Grugg thought.”

The Captain let out a small laugh, the creases around his sharp eyes softening as he genuinely seemed amused by the comment. “You couldn’t be more correct. Nightshade has been a blight on the area for years, and we can never seem to pin enough of them down to really make a change. In fact, what you’ve done for us today is a huge leap forward for us in tackling this issue.”

If anyone should be getting the praise for the mass arrest, it should be Gregor. He managed to route out the gang members and expose their criminality, even if it was only by chance. That seemed like something a good detective would do, though - fall into clues no matter what they did. As an assistant investigator, the ratman had already proven his worth and aptitude, despite his mistrust or disbelief of Bart.

“You were able to subdue or otherwise entrap not only a large group of Nightshade thugs but also their leader - one of the many tendrils of this beast that has its grip on this fair land. They say no good deed goes unpunished, Grugg; what are your next steps?” The question was earnest enough; any question of whether the cyclops was to be believed was now quelled. A cyclopean Private Eye would not be the weirdest thing he had come across in his duty.

“More ‘shade fellas need crunching up.” Objectively more of a neutral statement than an answer of intent. Whilst hunting down criminals sounded desirable, he couldn’t commit when he didn’t know where the murder investigation might lead.

“Excellent. I had hoped you would say something of the sort.” Captain Wanu leaned back in his chair to pull back on one of the desk drawers, which opened with a stiff scrape of wood against wood.

“Some other stinky boss been following Grugg… Don something,” he shrugged; the half-orc would probably know the name better than he could remember.

“Don Kean. Another miscreant that manages to elude our very hospitable jail cells.” His eyes lingered on the cyclops as he retrieved something from the drawer, closing it with a slight issue as it caught. A couple of desk statues toppled as the desk shook.

“Is Grugg in trouble?” Beating up criminals probably wasn’t allowed, even ones as apparently notorious as the Nightshade gang.

“Oh, undoubtedly, yes,” the Captain flashing him a wide grin before sliding something metallic across the table towards Grugg.

He looked down at an engraved brass badge; the polish reflecting in the waning sunlight.

“But perhaps now I can share some information, Detective Grugg.”