The lean figure of Claudia darted out from the crowd, ignoring the protests of one of the Guards keeping order, as she ran over to Grugg. She looked pale and wracked with worry as she clutched at a dangling necklace she wore.
“Hi,” the cyclops managed, looking down at his outfit in shame. It was, in a word, ruined. Blood, sweat, and all manner of other dirt and grime discolored it and gave it a heavy stench. The jacket was missing a sleeve; the other side was shredded through to his skin. Both the trousers and waistcoat had long splits where they had been cut during the fight. “Grugg is sorry.”
“Oh, Grugg,” she sidled up beside him, placing her hand on his shoulder, trying to avoid the patch of blood from the bolt wound. “It’s okay. Clothes don’t last forever. That’s how I stay in business” she flashed him a warm smile. “What matters is that you are alright.”
“Have had worse days,” he smiled back; for some reason, the presence of the red-haired lady helped to lighten his mood. He hadn’t even noticed that the rain had stopped at some point during the scuffle, but now the glowing hues of dusk reflected beautifully across the freshly dampened cobbled road.
She stood and wiped her hands off on her gray apron. “Care for an escort back to your residence, Sir?”
Grugg puffed out his chest and pointed to the brass badge, still yet unblemished despite the rest of his condition. “Detective now. Also, yes, please.”
“Very well then, Detective,” she looped her arm around his, and they slowly walked towards the Wise Goat, the murmurs of the straggling gawkers neither of their concern.
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“So, I moved here when I was about four. Although my father never returned from his ‘adventure’, we did occasionally receive gold or things to sell sent to us by messenger. Until about five years ago, anyway, after my mother passed, the money dried up. Luckily, she taught me well, and I was able to start up my own shop in Helpart. I still wish I knew what happened to my father, though.” Claudia brushed a curl out of her face and smiled wistfully out into the street.
“Maybe Grugg could investigate.” He hobbled along; his cut leg felt stiff where the wound was trying to heal, and he didn’t want to force it open again. The slower pace wasn’t the worst thing though, the lamp lighters had finally started making their rounds, and the warm amber glow was soothing for his exhausted eye.
“Oh, I am sure you have many more important problems. That is thoughtful of you, though.” She gave his arm a slight squeeze to emphasize her thanks and turned a shade of pink in the process. “But what about you? What is your home like?”
Grugg scratched his chin and then pointed up to the mountains, clearly visible even on this overcast evening. “Home is up there, just a simple cave for Grugg. Grugg's old tribe is somewhere over there,” his thick finger now moving along the horizon until it points roughly West. “Had argument with family, with chief. So now Grugg alone.”
“I'm sorry to hear that, Grugg. Didn’t you get terribly lonely after leaving them?” Her bright emerald eyes flickered with the amber of the street lamps as they passed.
He considered this for a few moments, the sound of a wheelbarrow clattering through the street the only thing shattering the serenity of the evening. “Well. Since leaving mountain, Grugg has found some very good friends that Grugg is fond of,” his smile causing the clothesmaker to turn away, bright red. “Also, have killed a lot more people than usual.” He was sure that he had straight up murdered a couple of men tonight and had wondered if he would get a stern talking to from Captain Wanu. It seemed fine at the time, but half-orc probably wouldn’t want Grugg to make a habit of it.
“You have certainly had an eventful day. I hope tomorrow isn’t so… destructive.”
The cyclops tried to imagine a day where nothing happened, and he could relax, but he couldn’t see it. In fairness, he had already signed up for an underground fighting ring and had a potentially dangerous criminal mob boss to interrogate. Grugg wasn’t at the front of the queue when it came to romanticizing things, but he had definitely seen crime fighting as something that didn’t involve so much effort.
“Ah, looks like we are here.” Claudia was correct; the Wise Goat sign hanging sign now illuminated by a lantern, was the giveaway. She turned, removed her looped arm from his, and awkwardly patted him on the elbow. “I had a nice walk, Grugg. Come by my shop once you are feeling better. I can’t have you running around in rags, Detective.”
Grugg smiled and nodded. “Definitely, Grugg will.” He was feeling drowsier now; the pull of the ever-so-near bed was a siren song to his spent form. Watching the clothesmaker smile and turn to walk away, he called back after her, “Thank you, Udok.”
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She turned, again red in the face, and curtsied, “You are welcome, Udok.” With this, she turned and scurried off, face in hands.
He wasn’t sure if she would have known the Giant term 'Udok'. It meant part-of-my-tribe, and was a term of endearment that was usually only used for the closest of friends or those you trusted. Sometimes even family wouldn’t be Udok, so he wasn’t too sure if there was a similar Common phrase for it. Bart, Gregor, and Claudia were definitely part of his tribal family now. Captain Wanu was nice, but also he was his superior, so it would be awkward. An Udok was of equal standing. Lady Peony wasn’t friendly enough, but Grugg bet he could win her over in time.
Pushing open the tavern door, he thought it best to make sure there were no messages or anything before he went to sleep. For once, the tavern actually had patrons in it, and almost as one, all two dozen of them turned to stare as he stepped in. He was a spectacle on the best of days. Now filthy and beaten up, he would look like a horror story.
“That’s him. That’s the guy that beat up all the Nightshade assholes!” A gruff voice shouted from near the back.
The tension immediately dissolved as several whoops and cheers came from a few of the tables, even a couple of rounds of applause from some rosier-cheeked customers. News must spread fast in the town, faster than he could walk, anyway. He slid up to the counter, giving the rowdy audience nods through a pained smile, declining offers of drinks and seats for conversation.
“Any news Grugg needs to know?” he grunted out to the tavern-keeper through gritted teeth, trying to drown out all the rowdy background noise.
“Other than you look almost as bad as Gregor? Yeah, actually. Your room with a twilight view has been arranged. Let’s hope the sky is clearer tomorrow, ay?” There was a stoic look on his face as he relayed this information, but it seemed almost too stiff, rehearsed.
“So, if Grugg comes in for a drink at dusk, Jacob can show Grugg where is?”
“Something like that… yes.”
Grugg eyed the man; he was getting a big whiff of something not being on the level. But, he could—figuratively—twist the man’s arm in the morning when it was quieter. With a shrug, he nodded his acknowledgement and headed outside, again waving off all the drunk revelers wanting a piece of this evening's biggest story.
He huffed as he stomped through the garden to the barn house. The muddy pathway was actually a small comfort; it felt good to get off of the hard cobbled roads and onto something a bit softer. Walking some loose circles around the small green, he eventually resigned himself to entering the building.
A small lantern had been left lit, the flickering light casting deep shadows where it didn’t illuminate. He could almost taste the smell of strong healing salve that wafted around the plain bedroom. Gregor lay sleeping on his wide straw bed, curled up with his tail resting across his eyes like a blindfold. His breathing was slow, and he had all manner of bandages around his limbs and torso. Grugg thought back to Reggie; perhaps everyone looked lovely and innocent when they slept, no matter their disposition when awake.
He took the Detective badge off his waistcoat, placing it with gentle reverence on the crate that functioned as a table in this barn. Then, with stifled grunts and twinges of pain, he began to disrobe from his mangled and shredded suit. Kicking the pile of ruined fabrics into the corner with his foot, he put on the original simple shirt and loose trousers Claudia had given him that morning. The baggy fit of both was a lot more comfortable than the fitted suit; a handy rope drawstring through the top of the trousers kept them from falling down. Perhaps, if he had started with this outfit, he wouldn’t have had such a dim view of clothing in general.
The gentle creak of the bed frame slowed as the cyclops lowered himself into it, trying his best not to disturb the ratman. It was not uncommon for a cyclops to share his sleeping area with members of his tribe, although the large mountainfolk were much heavier sleepers. In lying down, he let out a long sigh. What a day it had been, indeed. Probably the most intense one he had ever had, even worse than fighting the yeti a few days back. His frazzled mind tried to recount all the key points; it would help his Detective work to be more conscious of the details.
Gregor had brought him a tasty breakfast. That was easy to remember, oh - but he had a nice meal in the tavern too. But that was in the afternoon… he had taken Thud to the forge first. In his exhaustion, he couldn’t remember how long the dwarven woman said it would take to get his club fixed. He would ask Bart in the morning, hoping that it would be very soon. Then he had met Claudia, who was the nicest human he had met in his life. After that, Gregor had taken him to the Drowned Rat, a name that again gave him a tired smile, and he had beaten up the Nightshade bandits.
That was when the Captain had given him the badge! He opened his eye slightly to ensure it was still there, the polished metal reflecting the dimming light of the lantern in response. He became an official Detective, something that didn’t seem real still. Oh, then it was the tavern meal with Lady Valoth, who was as mysterious and grumpy as always. Gregor had come in after, bloodied and leading him to the fight with Wanu against the escaping Nightshade once more.
There were still uncertainties and worries that wracked his mind, but they were swept aside as a flood of warmth filled his aching body slowly. Peacefully, the hard-earned rest came to the cyclops, and he fell into a deep sleep, a soft smile lingering on his rough face.
So far gone in his rest, in fact, that he was not able to hear the deep thudding noise that came from some distance away, the noise reverberating down the mountain. Those out in the streets would report seeing a flash of fire halfway up the mountain before the sound hit them.
One such observer was a tall, pale woman in pitch-black clothing who just shook her head with a sigh, and returned to the shadows.