As it turned out, the part after you catch criminals was a mostly dull process. Grugg sat at one of the tavern tables with Patson and a female Guard he hadn’t seen before. The rest of them had taken the twin ogres down to the jail until they could be questioned or sentenced. They didn’t mind doing that legwork, Patson had told him, but he just needed to help fill out some paperwork too.
For Grugg, paper was a failed concept, and he had more than a little contempt for the written word. Aside from certain tribal symbols and rudimentary statements, cyclops’ and indeed many mountainfolk relied on word of mouth for most of their communication. Reading was one thing, but why go to all the effort of making really thin tree wafers when you could write just as easily on a wall - or even the tree itself?
Thankfully, Bart was filling in the blanks whilst the Guard marked the necessary details on the so-called ‘arrest form’.
“So, that looks like all the information we will need for now, Detective,” Patson eventually reasoned, scratching at his freshly healed scar with the end of the pencil. “Just need yourself and a witness to sign. Perhaps the tavern-keeper?”
He wasn’t sure how to do a signature, but grasping the tiny writing implement between his large fingers, he ground a long line across the indicated box on the page. Most impressively, he didn’t manage to destroy either part of the process. He handed the pencil out to the tavern keeper as he walked over to the table, the man’s hands already trembling.
“Jacob, right? Just need your signature here… just check the details the Detective has provided so you can corroborate. You shouldn’t need to come in for questioning.” Patson eyed the man up. “Looks like you have had enough for one day, anyway.”
[All manner of trouble keeps cropping up here; best be wary we don’t get kicked out.]
Grugg nodded as the Guard finished things up. Perhaps a change of scenery wouldn’t be so bad though; they only had the barn house paid up for a few more days. Not that he knew any particular place that would host them all or how he would pay for any of it. He decided it would be a good idea to ask the wizard to keep track of their coin.
“That will be all then, Detective.” Patson stood and nodded, as did the other Guard. “Oh- here, you could use this with as much trouble as you are getting into lately.” Then, with a crooked smile, he handed over a similar Message stone as to what the half-orc had used previously. “It goes straight to me, but assuming I am off-duty, I have direct contact with Captain Wanu.”
The cyclops grasped the magic stone in his meaty mitts with delight. It was only a matter of time before he would mix up all the small rock things he had been collecting. Or accidentally eat one. But until then, he would enjoy his collection of magical things.
“Take care, good luck on the Nightshade case, Detective. Give them a wallop for me, ay?” They gave a slight wave as they exited, accompanied by the deranged creaking of the Wise Goat’s door.
“Grugg likes Patson” He smiled, appreciating the gift plus the encouragement for violence.
[No. No more team members.]
The Detective pouted, despite it being unbecoming of his station, and swiveled in his chair to face Jacob, who had remained statuesque and pale. Perhaps now it would be time to order some well-deserved cooked goods, even if Gregor didn’t advise it.
“Does your h-hat talk?”
“Sometimes, entirely too much”. The smile broadened into a wide goofy grin, accompanied by an awkward, one-eye wink.
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For the most part, the tavern-keeper had run off to prepare food and hadn’t prompted for further information. After all that he had just witnessed, he had looked pretty shaken up, not to mention his casual attachment to the fighting ring that the bullied assault had sprung around. The duo had decided to leave him to process the events of the brawl on his own terms and had once again stepped out into the Autumn gloom hanging over Helpart.
Grugg looked up at the sky as he scratched at his chin. Somehow, the clouds had gotten even darker, a menacing charcoal color. And yet still no rain to show it.
[They look rather unhappy. I expect when they finally break, it will be a very heavy rainfall.]
The Detective had hoped that when that came to pass, he would be fast asleep and under the shelter of the barn. Before leaving, they had taken a second to put his suit box in the barn house. In the excitement of the scuffle, he had forgotten to mention to Gregor that his order was in there, but with the ratman fast asleep, he had figured he would find it when the Deputy was better rested.
Deputy sounded better than assistant, and although not an official standing, perhaps he could earn some favor with the Captain to elevate Gregor too. The ratman certainly had done his fair share in helping the investigating, even if that had led to a bunch of fighting both times. Grugg signed and strode down the street in his new boots. His feet felt warm, but he had mostly gotten used to the extra weight. Instead of the warehouse, however, they were making their way to the forge.
[It is unlikely they have finished already, but it wouldn’t hurt to check up. Although, with the fate of the fighting ring now in question, I wonder how they stand on the agreement.]
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Grugg hadn’t really considered this, but what the wizard said was true. In agreeing to best Harold's champion in the underground fight, now that the organizer had sent goons to get him off the scent, the cyclops would not likely be welcomed with open arms to compete. Plus, if the twins were anything to go by, the fighters might be a little above Grugg’s ability. Although he was undoubtedly strong, he couldn’t always rely on overpowering his opponent.
Approaching the forge, there were none of the expected noises resounding down the street—no unmistakable sharp clanking of metal upon metal in rhythmic succession. As the Detective came to the open doorway, the forge itself was not the bright white glow he had seen on his last visit. Instead, it radiated a dull red. Glancing around the room, only one of the dwarves seemed to be present - the dark-haired woman; he recalled her name was… Vana? She hadn’t noticed him at the doorway and was focused on reading something while idly combing her dark beard.
“Hi, Vana,” he waved, eye still searching around the room for the hint of his club.
“Ah, Grugg.” She placed the comb down on her book. “Eager to get your hitting stick back, I assume?” There was a playfulness to her voice, but she remained straight-faced.
The cyclops nodded intently. “How is Thud doing?” Once he had the hefty weapon back in his possession, he would be much better prepared for assassination attempts or random thug beat-ups.
“Not too bad, as luck would have it, we were able to squeeze in the steel forging part yesterday. The setting of the Orb is the harder part; that’s where Marge is - a supply run.” She walked over from her desk, hands clasped behind her back.
[That is a shame; the Orb would have come in handy when we go to - oh, just ask to borrow it back for a couple of hours?]
“Could Grugg have Orb back? Doing some investigating today.”
“Investigating?” as she approached, the badge finally caught her eye. “You’re a Detective? Great Braldin, I did not expect that.” Brushing her hair back, Vana withdrew her notebook and flipped through a few pages.
[We may have to tell her about the whole fighting ring issue now…]
“This may change things,” she continued before the cyclops could interject. “Understandably, we originally wanted to win over Harold's favor as he holds a lot of sway here. However, if you are on the side of the law, perhaps you could take him down instead?” A procured pencil tapped on her lips as she thought out loud.
“Harold already sent two ogres to shush Grugg.” Grugg drew a line across his throat for emphasis. “Permanently.”
“Were they twins? If so, they are connected to the fighting ring, but not directly under Harold. He would be too savvy to be so easily found out.”
[Damn, I suppose it wouldn’t be that easy, would it?]
“Ogres arrested now. Any information you can give?” Grugg felt very much like a Detective at this moment, questioning maybe not a suspect, but someone who would have information on the case. It was a much nicer feeling than being stabbed and choked.
“Well…” Vana looked around the empty forge, more for theatrics than to check if anyone was listening. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the fighting is done under the stables - yes, the ones owned by Harold himself.”
[If only our cover was still secret, perhaps we could have gotten closer during the help you promised him. See if you can find anything else about it.]
Grugg scratched his chin as he considered what information would be helpful. Although it would be easier for the wizard to feed him the questions, in a way, he preferred to lay the groundwork himself. He could hardly call himself a Detective if Bart did all the hard thinking. If only Gregor was here to take notes, and Claudia too, just because.
“How many fighters will be there?” the cyclops crossed his arms; that question seemed like a good starting point.
“Usually around eight. Each has a ‘sponsor’ or two. Plus, there will be a few trusted people there just to watch or bet on the fights.” Vana idly chewed on the end of the pencil. “It’s a surprise it has been mostly kept under wraps. Marge reckons there is someone high up, either in the Guard or around the Mayor, that is keeping the lid on it. That’s why we hadn’t gone to the law before,” she beamed a smirk from underneath her half-combed beard. “But, we trust you.”
Grugg grunted. Sounded like lots of crime and many criminals. He doubted he would be able to beat up all the fighters, never mind arresting everyone there. Perhaps not on his own… his imagination ran wild with a vision of the team all together, raiding the underground ring and putting a stop to the illegal activities. The reality was Claudia wasn’t much of a fighter yet, and Gregor was still barely holding it together as it was. He would have to speak to the Captain about how things had proceeded.
[Ask if she knows any of the sponsors.]
“Harold must be sponsor. Know any others?”
“Apart from ourselves, of course.” She winked and then blew a long sigh. “Well, they are pretty secretive, naturally. At least one is meant to be one of the Nightshade bosses; I couldn’t tell you who, though. The guy who sponsors the ogres is from out of town, and there’s one that watches remotely - from some magic orb. That’s about as far as my knowledge goes, however.”
“More than Grugg already knew.” It seemed that this town just grew denser with criminals the more he found out about anything. And to think this had all been simmering not so far away from his cave in the mountains.
“Here, let me grab your Orb, Detective.” Vana spun around and wandered off to one of the various drawers to dig it out. The sound of shuffling metal parts was followed by a muttered phrase in Dwarvish, and the dwarven woman returned with the magic object in hand.
“Thank you, Vana.” He awkwardly half bowed, putting the Orb in his sack.
“Always such a gentleman. Oh, if you do go, the pass phrase to enter is to say you have 'horse husbandry experience and want to join the Team'. They have a symbol on the door - two crossed swords, with Team written above it.”
[Oh, for the love of… it better not have an eye in the middle.]
“Is there an eye?” Grugg asked, half hoping that there would be.
“Huh? No, there is no I in Team.”