It was a bizarre sight when Shale returned and Ibbi joined her from behind the bar. He was the one who had brought their breakfast earlier, Aran realised. Ibbi was a handsome young small-triber man with golden curls and blue eyes, but he only reached up to Shale's thigh. The giant of a woman with her tanned green skin and large mane of dark braids made Ibbi seem even smaller. Shale was carrying a tray of several tankards.

“Find Ibbi a chair,” Shale declared. “It’s his break and he’s graciously agreed to talk to us for a couple of beers and a chance to sit down.”

Aran pulled another chair over and the small man sat down on his knees, so he was functionally above the tabletop. He held up a hand to stop any questions before they began, then grabbed a tankard and washed a good deal of beer down. He smacked his lips and grinned at them. “Break-time…” he said. “So, what do you crazies want to know?”

“We’re looking into the death of a… mad priest. Sargon?” Aran said. “We were told you might have seen something?”

“Oh, right,” Ibbi nodded. “He was a special class of crazy and that really means something around here.”

“So, what did you see?” Naia asked.

“Well, alright, so I was drunk, right?” Ibbi clarified, looking at them meaningfully.

“Sure. You could still give us a hint,” Aran said.

“Right, I had sort of wandered a bit after going out for a piss. It was late. I know that because Old Man Clawface was at the bar, I’m pretty sure I remember that.”

“And by what logic do you tell time by Old Man Clawface - and who might he be, if you please?” Ailmon asked.

Ibbi laughed. “Alright, I guess you’re the brain in the outfit. Clawface is this old freelancer. He comes here every night around three hours past midnight. So it was around that time, maybe four-ish. I was off duty at midnight, but then beer happened. So anyway, I walked out. I don’t remember how long I was roaming about, but…” He paused to take a drink, sighing happily. “I remember I was leaning on a wall somewhere dark and saw this tall man, human most likely, with a hood pulled down over his face and maybe a scarf or something hiding the lower part of his face, carrying a body out of one of the alleys, right? I think it might be… two alleys down from Excessively Happy Alley.” He frowned and thoughtfully drank his beer.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“What colour were his clothes?” Naia asked.

Ibbi looked blankly at her. “No clue, lady. Sorry about that. Dark-ish?”

“So a cloak and a scarf. What else?” Naia asked.

Ibbi kept looking at her, more puzzled than before. “Ehm. I don’t know. I mean, trousers, I guess? He wasn’t naked as far as I remember.”

“And you are sure it was a man?” Aran asked.

Ibbi appeared to give this a good think. “Nope,” he finally said. “But if it were a woman, I think it would be a Shale sort of gal. He, she, it, they, them was carrying a person over their shoulder. So… I wasn’t exactly steady on my feet, right, and I might have sat down for a bit. But when I looked up again, I saw that the person being carried had long hair. That was all. It was hanging down over the ass of the person carrying him.”

“Did you see what happened then?” Aran prompted.

“Well, sort of, but not really. I think I saw the cloaked person put the corpse down. You know, right at the main door to the guild. But I had keeled over, and it was far away. I know they passed the brazier down the street. At least I think I didn’t imagine that.” Ibbi emptied the tankard and reached for another.

“So, a person, most likely a human male, carried the priest from an alley nearby to the front of the Guildhouse?” Ailmon stopped and looked at Ibbi questioningly. When Ibbi nodded, Ailmon continued, “What happened then? How did he put the corpse down?”

“How? He just put him down, I guess.” Ibbi shrugged.

“Did he remain standing and just throw the corpse or did he put the dead man down more carefully?” Ailmon specified.

“Oh, like that…” The small-triber man thoughtfully took a swig from his beer. “He was sort of careful, you know. Put him down nicely.”

“I see. Did you report this happening to someone?” Ailmon asked calmly.

“Emm, no?” Ibbi looked at him and then at Shale. “They’re new here, huh?”

Shale shrugged. “Well, not old Wallsen-gerbils yet, that’s for sure…”

“Right…” Ibbi looked back to Ailmon. “I was drunk. I passed out. I think I may have rambled something to some people in the bar before I went out cold, but then again, maybe not. Anyway, he was found pretty early when the guild woke up, I’m told, so no harm done.” He seemed to give his statement a think. “…Alright, no additional harm done.”

“Thanks, Ibbi,” Shale said. “Three alleys down from Excessively Happy?”

“Two, I think,” Ibbi corrected her. “And no worries. …You’re going to freelance off and look in the alley, right?”

“Why do you ask?” Aran asked.

The small man flashed them a smile. “Because if you do it now, I get all your beer.”

o-0-o

“So, that was a complete waste of time!” Naia exclaimed. “I halfway thought he was sending us into an ambush, but no such fun.”

“Ibbi is a kind enough man,” Shale said. “He might be a bit calloused, but we all are. If you go to pieces here in Wallsen, you really go to pieces. But I doubt if he would ever hurt anyone.”

Aran cast a last look at the alleyway. They had found a dried spray of blood on a rough clay wall halfway down the alley, but no other evidence, except the behavioural type they could conclude from Ibbi’s story, had presented itself.

“Kind? I don’t know about that. Earlier, Ibbi did let me know he punches at groin height…” Aran noted and smiled at Shale.