The brassy reflection of the polished badge filled the ordinarily blue eye of the Cyclops.

“Now, let me explain a little further,” the Captain continued, seeing the stunned look of Grugg. “This isn’t a permit to murder; however, if you are seeking the Nightshades out, then we know they are likely to try to kill you. So, in effect, it is more of a permit to use necessary force.”

Grugg nodded, but couldn’t draw his eye away from the small metal object on the desk. It was in the shape of a shield, with lines engraved around the edges and, most importantly, embossed text that said Detective. It was but a few days ago that he was only a simple mountain-dwelling cyclops with little to hold to his name other than a nice club and a desire to prove his family wrong. Now he was a bona fide city official. Finally, he could investigate crimes for real.

“Normally, we wouldn’t give this kind of thing out so lightly. But, we have a shortage of willing bodies with the guts to go after the worst crime in the town. The position has a high turnover rate,” he trailed off, looking amongst the forest of tiny statues cluttering his office. “There is a small stipend for the role, however, and possible benefits if you continue to get results.”

“Find crimes, catch criminals, get shiny things?”

“Precisely. Consider the official position part of the reward for rooting out Frank and his men. Normally there would be something more substantial, but as I had to pull in the King’s men for the capture, they take the credit for it, I’m afraid.”

“Badge is enough,” Grugg grinned, the weight of the situation sinking in through his thick skin. He had a place in the town now. No longer an outcast having to awkwardly look around for odd jobs, he had a purpose and a small metal token that held more power than its inert metals would typically provide. But, it was all moving so quickly for him, he wondered what Gregor would think or even what Bart would say when he had the energy.

“Let me tell you what we know of Don Kean. The man fancies himself as a bit of a master spy, and truth be told, he is more of a Shadow than Frank ever was. So far, he has kept well away from the limelight, allowing his network of spies to collect information. Nightshade uses what he is able to gather to maintain control of their illicit activities and stay one step ahead of the law.”

The half-orc sighed and brought another piece of paper from his desk to the top of the pile before continuing. “Previously, they had been content to just observe from a distance, but lately, they have started getting more involved with their quarry - assassination, arson, robbery, and the like. Whether they are just getting greedy or under a new directive from the Don is anyone's guess. Perhaps even they are just fraying at the edges, and discipline is getting harder to enforce.”

“Grugg can enforce some discipline.” He raised his clenched fists to further his point.

“I’m sure you can,” the Captain smiled, the stoic mask softening once more. “But remember, you are a Detective, not a vigilante. Answers and arrests, not assault and anger.”

“Answers and arrests,” Grugg repeated. For a second, the glamor of the new title faded away as he considered the actual responsibilities that he had just blindly accepted. He didn’t know anyone in the town, really, and if the Nightshade presence was so pervasive, who could he even trust? What if the nice clothes lady or the dwarves were part of the gang? What if… he eyed the Captain suspiciously.

Wanu had been rearranging his fallen ornaments as the cyclops began turning the gears of paranoia, so he did not receive the intended glare of doubt. Perhaps he was being a bit over-eager, Grugg relented, deciding that a good Detective would probably need proof and not just rampant speculation. He would ask Gregor to write it down whenever he could next find the ratman.

“The badge will give you some power over the civilians of the town. Don’t let it go to your head though, please.” The Captain glanced up from a wobbling figure of some kind of a chubby bird as he tried positioning it in a space somehow now too small. “Don’t make me regret my decision; I rarely make a wrong one.” There was a smile on his aged face, but the sharpness of his eyes had returned.

“Will do Grugg's best, Captain.”

“Then you are dismissed, Detective. Good luck, and keep me updated.”

Grugg rose from the short stool, a slight cramp in his legs from the awkward position, and gave a low bow to the Captain. Then, gingerly, he took the brass badge from the desk, being careful not to disturb any of the statues and cradling his new possession with utmost care.

“Oh, and Grugg… you best find some clothes to wear. Whatever look you have going on right now, it’s not cutting it.”

[I think he isn’t a fan of hats.]

The newly minted Detective had to bite his tongue as his eye widened, hearing the wizard talk again. He wanted to burst out in excitement and pride but couldn’t in front of the Captain. Wanu, on seeing his odd reaction, must have assumed he insulted Grugg.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to be insensitive; there’s a good tailor around-”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“OKAY,” Grugg blurted out, interrupting him with an unintentional yell. Then, quickly turning around, the cyclops left the office and made a direct beeline for the exit door.

Emerging into the street, the sun had broken the clouds once more and illuminated the puddles and miniature riverways throughout the cobbled streets. The people of the town had emerged like rabbits in spring and had started filling out the streets, no longer cowering from the sour fall rainfall. Whilst most of them were glad for the current ceasefire from the heavens, none were as visibly elated as Grugg.

He strode out onto the road and took in a deep breath. Even the stares and looks of apprehension from the meandering townsfolk could not pierce this bubble surrounding him. For now, grasped tightly in his meaty fist, was a symbol that he did belong. He wasn’t a misfit, unwelcome, or a burden on anyone. The only people who should fear or loathe him were the criminals he now had the authorization to pursue. And punch.

[Let’s head back to the tavern; we can both rest and discuss things in private there.]

Grugg nodded and got his bearings before setting off in the right direction. He thought. Here in the town, with all the buildings and winding roads, it put off his normally reasonable internal compass to have so many landmarks blocking his view. It was much simpler in the open spaces of the mountain, where the position of the sun was readily apparent, and most things could be seen if you just stood on a big rock.

The wizard was silent for the rest of the journey as he, almost perfectly, found the Wise Goat. It wasn’t the same without Bart being constantly in his head; in trying to push for learning and improving on his spells, he kept taking it too far, and Grugg was left on his own. Should he bring it up with the hat? The spells had proven useful, and the cyclops did want his friend to be more than just a voice, but part of him wished that he was more around. Especially with all the talking he had to do lately.

He pushed the tavern door open. A combative creak rung out from the hinges in good need of oiling. Again, the place was oddly empty, even on a day when people had been trying to avoid the outside. Only one patron sat by the wall, an old, bearded gentleman with glazed-over eyes, staring at his mug intently. The tavern-keeper was at the counter and gave Grugg a curt nod.

“Hope your room was to your liking. I have a parcel here for you.” He brought up a sizeable parcel of loose rectangular shape wrapped in brown parchment paper. “It has a note upon it.”

Grugg took the object; it was somewhat firm but flexed easily in his grasp. A simple black ribbon had been used to tie around the package, and indeed, atop the middle of the mysterious delivery, was an envelope with his name written on it in neat handwriting.

Without delay, he left the tavern to head round the back to his lodgings. With the sun now freed from the shackles of the overcast morning, there was just enough light in his barn-like room to thoroughly investigate what he had been left. The thought of it being a trap, perhaps the Nightshade getting their revenge on the rookie Detective or scaring him off their trail, excited him more than gave him pause for concern. Placing his badge atop the closed crate lid, he carefully took the envelope and clumsily opened it up.

He stared at all the words, blinking several times. “Bart, can you read? Is small and fancy looking.” His grasp of written Common was passable, but the text presented was small and loopy.

[Certainly, my mana level should be stable enough to talk now. I was beginning to miss our chats. Hopefully, I can do more of my resting during the sleeping hours going forward instead.]

Grugg grinned and held the letter higher up towards the hat, wiggling his toes as the wizard began to read.

Dear Grugg.

Please forgive me; perhaps it is uncouth for me to be so eager and commence the work discussed so promptly. It is unlike me to be so rash. Enclosed are the items of clothing I felt would be more fitting for the station you aspire to. I hope you will come by the shop soon to show me how they suit you.

Regards, Claudia

“Wow, thread lady very nice.”

[Yes, you could say that.]

“I did.” Grugg tore into the parchment, revealing several items of clothing that fell onto the large bed in a heap. “Oops.”

[Let’s see you try them on then. What has she cooked up?]

“Not cook, is clothes lady. Bart was there.” Grugg smiled to himself, and in the silent pause that followed his remark, he swore he could feel the wizard smile too.

He took the first garment from the bed and arranged it flat and then did the same for the others, spreading them out on the bed so that he could see what they were. He didn’t know the names of them, but he had seen people about the town wearing similar things. With a sigh, he picked up the first thing and tried to work out which limbs went into which holes.

[No, those are for... your legs go into those. One on each side, yes, one at a time.]

The leather kilt dropped to the floor as he attempted to wrestle with these ‘trousers’. Certainly, the leg part had been easy to get; there were two empty tubes and his legs were two meaty tubes - but the button was fiddly, even with it being oversized for an ogre to be able to latch. Next up was a simple linen shirt, which surprisingly covered his slightly rounded gut and could tuck into his impressively functional trousers. He wasn’t sure how he had a gut with as little as he ate; perhaps it was just ready for the future when he was successful and feasted every day.

A gray waistcoat then covered the white shirt, and then lastly a suit jacket went on top of this. Even one layer was stifling for the cyclops, but three? It was like he was wrapped up and ready for winter. It felt restrictive and alien to him, his teeth set on edge from how uncomfortable he felt. Maybe he should take it all off again.

[I am impressed. The suit color matches me - I mean my hat, almost perfectly.]

Grugg took a moment to confirm this observation. He had been too busy struggling with the orientation to really pay attention to the details. But indeed, Bart was correct; it had the same deep reddish tone as the wizard’s hat. Walking around the bed, he picked up the badge and slid the pin through the fabric of the waistcoat.

[How about we go sign up for that fighting thing, and take your new outfit for a spin?]

“Let’s go punch some clues out of people,” Grugg agreed, cracking his knuckles.