Bye Gregor, bye scary Lady! Barry beamed as the pair left the safe-house.

Gregor waved off the sentient doorway as they set out into the street. “Just what I need,” he murmured, “Another inanimate object to make friends with.”

Lady Valoth looked down at the ratman, easily a head taller than him, and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to be a fan of Barthélemy?”

A shrug followed by a scowl was the only response. Gregor opened his mouth as if to speak, but then looked away and decided against it.

“You still hold a secret from them, too,” Peony continued, letting the statement hang in the air.

“What they don’t know can’t hurt them.” Gregor continued looking off to the street ahead as they walked towards the Guard headquarters. “What of you, Lady Investigator? What do you still hide from us?”

Lady Valoth clucked her tongue and looked back down at the ratman. He was much more shrewd than the cyclops, and although she did find merit in some cynicism, the evening spent guarding the safe-house with the Deputy had opened her eyes to the degree at which Gregor had a sour streak.

“As I told you last night, the Crown authorizes my organization to investigate high-level crimes. It was suspected that the Nightshade influence creeping through northern Mubet is something more than just organized crime, so-”

“Yes, yes,” Gregor rolled his red eyes. “What’s with the weird magic about you, the red eyes?”

“Oh,” Peony adjusted her wide-brimmed black hat, “Wondering if I am a vampire as the Detective did?”

“No. What’s a ‘vampire’?”

“Undead humanoids that live off the blood of the living, usually. You really haven’t heard of them before?”

Gregor shrugged. “We probably have a denspeak word for it, but it sounds made up, though. Blood isn’t a very nutritious food source. You’re not one of them, then?” He eyed her suspiciously - if ser Grugg had assumed she might be, then the accusation must have merit.

“Not exactly. I do not trust you enough to warrant giving you my whole life story. Let’s say that I am resistant to turning due to my ancestral blood. I have some minor benefits, without needing to feed on blood, currently.”

“Currently?”

The Investigator swore under her breath. “Clearly, staying around your group is making me soft.” She smiled wistfully.

“I am just a good Deputy, Lady Investigator,” the ratman smiled back.

“Despite the lack of… everything your team has; training, organization, discipline, experience in detective work… you’ve somehow made things work well so far.”

Gregor sniffed and scratched at his chin as they turned a corner onto one of the main streets. The morning air was fresh, and it was all too open for him; the sewers had almost been a welcome comfort that reminded him of home. “Apparently, we aren’t properly sanctioned, though.”

“No?” Peony raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in thought.

“Hopefully, ser Grugg can find ser Captain and get some answers out of him, but we were thinking of going private, anyway.” Gregor folded his arms as he walked and looked away.

“You four do make a good team,” she reiterated, but said nothing further.

The rest of the brief journey to the headquarters was made in silence. Both either contemplated the day prior or the task ahead of them with questioning the suspect apprehended at the scene of Claudia’s attempted murder.

“Do you think they will be safe?” Lady Valoth asked as they approached the door, pausing to address the Deputy with a slight look of concern on her pale face.

“Trust me.” Gregor bared his fangs in an odd, almost pained display. “I’ve seen ser Grugg when he is serious. Lady Clothesmaker is probably the safest person in town.”

“Not always the gentle, goofy giant, then?”

The ratman paused with his hand on the headquarters door. “Ser Grugg is strong because he is constantly fighting a battle within himself, and most of the time, he wins.”

“And when he loses?”

Gregor turned his head to the goliath and grinned. “You’d better hope you’re on his good side.”

The doorway swung open into the headquarters, and the pair stepped inside. A long desk sat at the front, with a female guard sitting behind. She scratched her short dark hair as she spoke with two figures standing nearby - a male Guard with elven features and an arm in a sling, and a female medic with short blonde hair.

All three turned to observe the pair as they entered, the eyes of medic lighting up.

“Oh, hi Gregor!” She beamed before sheepishly looking between the floor and the two Guard.

“Lady Isabella,” Gregor nodded, with the slightest of glimmers in his red eyes, before turning to the woman seated behind the desk. “We are here to question last night’s suspect.”

The reception Guard nodded, with a brief frown towards the medic, before standing and holding out a set of keys. “Patson mentioned you’d be round. We are short on staff due to the missing Captain, so you’re to be trusted to get on by yourselves… apparently.”

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Gregor took the keys with his clawed hand, a humorless grin across his fanged maw. “No problem, I know the way.”

“Oh… alright,” the reception Guard shrugged, now even more confused, as she sat back down to watch them leave.

The two Investigators pushed through into the corridor that led to the cells.

“I have more questions than I require answers for; however, how do you know the way?” Lady Valoth raised an eyebrow at the devious-looking Deputy.

“It’s part of my job.” The twinkle of torchlight danced in the eyes of the ratman. “While you were busy sleeping and not guarding the safe-house, I was gathering information.”

“So you didn’t sleep at all?” Peony asked, ignoring the jab.

“Why bother when we have coffee?” Gregor shrugged, drumming his fingertips at his side.

The Investigator just shook her head as they approached the door designated by the Deputy. Unlocking, it brought them into a room with a bare amount of furniture, the chairs and desk facing a large window which gave the view of a small white room, a pair of empty chairs around a square table beyond.

The door to this interrogation room opened as a Guard brought in the suspect, hands shackled behind him. As the nervous-looking young man was manhandled onto the chair, the Guard turned the window with a nod. “Let me know when yer done with t’miserable sod.” With that, he left the room, shutting the heavy metal door behind him.

“Interesting.” Gregor waved his hand at the man shooting glances around the empty room. “One-way.”

“How do you want to run the questioning?” Lady Valoth asked, leaning forward on the desk, staring out at the restrained suspect.

The ratman’s tongue rolled across his fangs as he grinned widely.

Just as the young criminal started to get used to his new situation, the door of the room creaked open. The intimidating figure of the tall Investigator walked in first and took the seat opposite the man. A slam of the door made the criminal jump as Gregor followed in, strolling around the man before standing behind Peony.

“Name?” Lady Valoth asked bluntly, folding her arms across her chest.

The captive Nightshade lackey licked his lips nervously, eyes darting between both interrogators, weighing up the option of whether cursing them out or giving a fake name would end up poorly for him. He settled on highly likely. “Kristov,” he muttered.

“Kristov, what were you doing in Threads last night?” Her voice remained calm, even soft, but stern. Gregor stood silently behind, arms folded, impatiently tapping his foot on the stone floor.

“Lookin’ for some new trousers-” he bit his tongue as it threatened to run away from him.

“Is that because of the hole in your current pair which you had just acquired, ser Kristov?”

The sweat was running down the young man’s head; whatever training he had been given upon joining Nightshade, it did not include how to talk to authorities - perhaps it was assumed once you were captured, you’d be as good as dead to the organization.

“Let’s not play games, Kristov,” Peony leaned forward at the table, her spectacles sliding down her nose slightly to reveal her red iris’. “We were all there at the scene. Which boss do you work for?”

Kristov recoiled, leaning back in the chair but unable to avert his panicked gaze from the Investigator. “No - I can’t; they’ll kill me.”

“What do you think I will do?” Gregor fumed. “I haven’t slept, and I am very hungry; you don’t look like much of a meal, ser Kristov. You don’t want to disappoint both of us, do you now?” The Deputy drew his silver dagger and placed it on the table in the middle of the two seated.

“Y-you can’t. You are Guard or something, right? You can’t kill me!”

“I am an Investigator of Oculi Gladii and am sanctioned by the Crown,” Peony clarified, her eyes boring into the man. “I could kill you, but there’s a lot of paperwork I’d have to fill out.”

“However,” Gregor continued, “I have just found out I am neither sanctioned by Crown nor ser Captain. I am just a friend of Lady Clothesmaker with a very broken moral compass.”

Kristov attempted to turn paler than the Investigator as his wide eyes tried to move away from her gaze to size up the salivating ratman slowly encroaching in his personal space. Were there any Guards watching through the one-way window? He knew that the headquarters had been quieter than usual, but he had only overheard brief notions of more patrols than usual.

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk,” he relented, not wanting to take the risk. “I only recently joined, but I was part of Dogman’s gang.”

“Figured that out already, ser Kristov. Do you have the ability to change into a werewolf?”

“No - I hadn’t been in for long enough to be granted the power; last night was my… test.”

“Murdering an innocent woman seems like a poor test.” Valoth shook her head.

Gregor started pacing slowly around the table, moving behind the captive criminal. “Let me guess, ser Kristov - you were offered power, a place to belong, a structure in your aimless life?”

“Y-yes,” the man panicked, but a sliver of truth came through.

“I know this,” Gregor whispered, as he moved his fanged snout beside Kristov’s ear, “Because I sought the same, but I found my happy place with good people, not those who murder and do wrong.”

Tears welled up in the man’s eyes. “I never met Dogman himself, only his second-in-command. A wolfman called… Ruckus.”

Lady Valoth groaned. “What is it with these Nightshade people? And where does the gang hideout in the town?”

Kristov looked down at the table and closed his eyes, the built-up tears being ejected from his face. “There’s a disused mine out south west c town, just through the woods.”

“You are lucky to be alive, ser Kristov. Although it may not feel that way currently.” Gregor walked back around the table and retrieved his dagger. “Ser Grugg is kind-natured, and it is only by his good graces you are still alive. I can imagine those in the mines will not share your fortune.”

“Most likely as good as dead - some may be arrested,” Peony nodded, pushing her glasses back up her nose, her eyes now a muted dark gray.

A hum sounded off as the Message Stone in Lady Valoth’s pocket came to life with the voice of Grugg.

[Pri-te Ey-. Grugg -nd Clau- under lumber-se. Maybe -ger, no f-]

[Also, -shade -ss is a w-]

“Valoth reporting, we are currently interrogating suspect. Do you require assistance?”

“Sounds like something is interfering with the stone.” Gregor shrugged.

[-ugg and Cl- safe, - mess- if danger.]

“Seems like they are okay?” Valoth returned the shrug. “As you said, Grugg can take care of himself.” She turned back to the emotionally drained prisoner.

“Now Kristov, what else can you tell us?” Peony continued, a wry smile across her face