[Sounds to me like you just want an excuse to see her again.]

“No!” Grugg exclaimed a little too loudly, startling a gaggle of elderly women as they passed back through the cobbled streets of Helpart. All he had suggested was that he could do with a better alternative to his old sack for carrying things, especially the important magic bits. So, naturally, Claudia would be the go-to for making some kind of bespoke gear.

[I know, I am just winding you up, Grugg. We will see where the day leads us; we have a lot of pieces on the chessboard at the moment. I’m beginning to think half of the town might be on our suspect list for one thing or another.]

The Detective reflected on how defensive he had been with his answer. He did want to see Claudia again, and he also wanted Gregor to recover, too. It was easy with Bart because the wizard was stuck to his head, but his new friends felt far away, despite their distance. Being alone in the mountain had negatively affected him more than he had realized. The urge to become a close-knit tribe would have to be quelled, lest he became too overbearing.

At least Vana had said she could fast-track the Moonchaser Orb setting once returned. She had seemed more interested in what the cyclops could do for them as a Detective more than when they thought he was just a meathead. Of course, he was just a meathead with a badge now, but it was at least a very pretty badge. It would have been nice to have Thud back already. The knuckle dusters were nice, but nothing compared to the sheer force (and amusing noise) of the metal-capped club.

“Before Claudia, we should go Library.” He wouldn’t want Bart to miss his chance at finding clues.

[I have been thinking about that. Perhaps we should wait a little longer. I’ve been trying to improve my Voice spell. As good of a Detective as you are, Grugg, my contact might not be open with you if he has already been hounded by the… three-sword people.]

Grugg nodded; that did make some sense. He had been able to intimidate or injure most people into telling him what he needed to know. If the contact had sensitive information that he might run off with, he best play it as safe, and in whatever way the wizard wanted. That did leave him with a question, though.

“Bart, how does mana work?”

[Think of it as my energy level; it’s a lot less than I am used to and also different in ways that would be difficult to describe. But, here, hold up your fingers-]

The cyclops did so - open palms with fingers outstretched.

[That’s it, so you have ten fingers total. Currently, using Voice is about three fingers' worth of mana- yes, that’s it, lower them. So seven mana left. Now if I am at low mana, say two fingers, and I want to use Voice - it is possible, but it takes me longer to recover.]

“Recover is sleep?” Grugg wiggled his fingers, losing track of which were supposed to be up or down.

[Similar, yes. It is more like a meditation; however, due to my current hat-bound existence, I can still hear and see things around you. Talking to you like this uses very little mana at all, but I can’t do it while meditating, which is why I am quiet sometimes.]

“So Voice is three, talking is half finger…”

[Healing Ward is channeled, and assuming I am not low on mana, I can do this as a part of meditation. It is most effective when you are asleep.]

Grugg stepped over a large puddle covering a gutter, trying to avoid getting his new boots too dirty on their first day’s outing. “Magic hard.”

[I suppose the point I was getting to was I am trying to reduce the cost of Voice and have more control over it. The hope is that I will be able to have regular, if not short, conversations out loud soon.]

“Grugg would like that. Hat can talk to all friends then.” Not to mention, he wouldn’t have to keep parroting the wizard when he had something to say.

[The effort has put a pause on my trying to learn new spells, but I am afraid that is just a limitation of my predicament.]

The Detective was silent for a minute as they passed through Helpart, the wooden buildings looking glum in the dull light of the near-imminent storm-clouded sky. Then, reaching the top of the road that led to the warehouse, the structure itself was a darkened presence amongst the smaller shops alongside it. Grugg paused before continuing down the street.

“Will Bart find spell to go into new body?”

[One day, yes.]

“Oh.” He had known the answer already, but had tried to put it aside.

[But just think of all the things we can do when I have a body. We can get food together, see each other’s faces, and hey, I am pretty sure you owe me a hug for saving your skin at some point, right?]

“Definitely,” Grugg said through a broad smile, wiping his eye.

After the short walk down this Southbound path, Captain Wanu was standing waiting outside the warehouse with a pair of Guards. He nodded to the approaching cyclops and waved off the two guards who stood to attention, flanking the still-shattered doorway of the building.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Hail, Detective. I had intended to chastise you for your lack of expediency, but Patson sent me a message to let me know what happened at the Wise Goat. Glad to see you are still with us.” The half-orc still bore some injury from the previous day. Much like Patson, he had some form of healing that had accelerated the process, and only a fresh scar remained over his brow. However, the healing hadn’t done much for the bags under his eyes.

“Almost died, but then didn’t.”

[It’s becoming quite the habit.]

“Well, keep that up, and you’ll serve the town well. Speaking of, shall we?" The Captain gestured with his hand towards the warehouse entryway.

The unlit warehouse was as gloomy as it was odorous. A mixture of sweat, desperation, and bovine residue had given the building character. The type of character you would actively avoid unless they had sometimes you really needed, but it was more larger-than-life than any interior had the right to be. Dark gray metal bars decorated every wall of this lower floor, forming cages or holding pens. The ironwork was as plain and basic as it needed to be. Stained wooden floorboards creaked and groaned as the cyclops entered, the Captain close behind.

“Most of the bandits were contained down here; I’m sure I don't need to tell you which Reggie was held in.”

Grugg paced down the center of the room and observed the open cells. He imagined some of them had been damaged in making those makeshift weapons. However, one of the cells near the far end of the building was much different than the rest. The dark iron bars were twisted and bent outwards, hewn as if made of reed instead of thick metal. Even the wooden floor had rough grooves slashed out of it - by the shadow, no doubt.

[He said most were contained down here, were there some upstairs too?]

“Where rest held?” the cyclops questioned, pointing up at the ceiling with eyebrow raised.

“Correct. There are some further cells upstairs. Slightly less smelly too, if you can believe it. I will leave you to investigate, Detective. There are a couple of ogres I need to make acquaintance with. The older Guard outside - Jonath, just let him know when you are done here and leave.”

Nodding, Grugg watched as the half-orc briskly left out through the broken entryway. Of course, now that they were here alone, he had no idea what he was here for.

“Uh, Bart, what we doing?”

[Looking for clues, my dear friend. Any evidence left behind, of Frank or anything we can find to glean more information on our criminal foes.]

“Ohhh, yeah. Easy,” he withdrew the Moonchaser Orb from his sack.

[I usually would perhaps gripe over doing things the easy way. But, as my perspective is above your head, I can’t exactly look for clues efficiently anyway.]

Grugg tapped the Orb, and a flash of light illuminated his eye, a pulse of white passing over the interior of this building in all directions. Once the pulse faded, he looked around for anything where a highlight remained.

[Nothing at my eye level, at least.]

The cyclops lifted his hand over his head in front of the rounded buckle above the brim of the deep red wizard's hat. “Can see anything now?” The stifled chuckles were barely able to be masked by his question.

[No, I… It is perhaps odd that I am restricted to this false ‘eye’ for vision. Nevertheless, I admire your ability to be jovial even in the most mundane situations.]

The smile on Grugg remained as he lowered his hand again. He was glad for the wizard’s patience with him; after all, if you weren’t having fun, were you really living? But, rotating about the room, there were no outlines in any of the cells. Peering above, hoping to avoid ascending the stairs - also nothing of note. How utterly disappointing.

[It looks like we will have to do it the old-fashioned way.]

The Detective shrugged, the smile now fading from his rough face. He went to put the Orb back into his sack but struggled to find the opening again. With frustration, he stared down at it, opening his arms wide away from it to get a clear view.

“Uh, Bart - see that too?”

[Yeah, how interesting…]

Beneath his feet, somewhere below the heavy boots of the cyclops, the outlines of a handful of objects slowly dissipated. Either very small objects right below the planks, or something more substantial anywhere between ten to twenty feet below, would be his guess. Although, his depth perception was pretty terrible at the best of times, in fairness.

[The Captain didn’t mention anything about a cellar or basement floor, did he?]

“Hmm, no,” Grugg scratched his chin in thought. “Just stairs, top floor.” They had passed the stairs on the way in, and they didn’t look like the sort that would support a Detective of his weight. He walked around the floor of the warehouse, the floorboards creaking against his every footfall. The cattle kept here must have really done a number on the structural integrity of the place, he considered, as he looked for a doorway or hatch that led anywhere else.

“No luck; Orb would have found hidden door.” The cyclops sighed and folded his arms, frowning at the area of the floor over the previously marked objects. Tapping his toes on the weak wood drummed out an impatient tune throughout the empty building.

[Maybe there is a cellar door on the outside; we could always check or ask one of the- what are you-]

Grugg did not give the wizard time to finish that train of thought. From his standing position, he leaped into a short sprint, and with a short hop, he slammed his full weight down with both booted feet on the decaying floorboards. The immediate crack as the wood split and splintered beneath the impact of the cyclops was followed by a sinister, slow creak of the unbroken planks bending beneath the added stress. He now stood about half a foot lower than the rest of the floor, a small crater of cracked and loose wooden shards beneath him.

[It wouldn’t be that easy; a proper basement would have a solid roof as a foundation-]

The second train of thought from Bart was also cut off as the slow creak made a sudden squeal as not only did further boards break, but the floor itself gave way beneath the Detective. Grugg fell, the sudden lurch of gravity bringing him downwards a short distance, his fall broken by several wooden objects. Rising to his feet, as the dust and aerated sediment from the foundations cluttered and settled around him, he looked up at his surroundings.

Across a small stone chamber filled with old shelves and crates, sitting at half of a now-shattered table, was a very pale and surprised-looking Frank, ‘Shadow of Helpart’.

Grugg grinned as he brushed the dust from his shirt, his electric-blue eye blazing from beneath the brim of the wizard’s hat.

“Peek-a-boo.”