Darrik accepted the bread with a good humoured smile "It was hot, but it didn't set m'beard alight, so all is well with the world" The bread itself was followed by ale and succeeded at being, the dwarf felt, a damn good meal in total. All in all, Darrik felt replenished enough to give the task at hand some proper thought. And Toast's suggestion certainly bore consideration. The dwarf guard stroked his beard as he pondered the possibility Toast had raised "It's a valid question. Give me a moment."
After a couple of minutes worth of pondering, Darrik responded carefully. "Elements of what y'say bear a grain of truth to them, Toast. Fact is, important or high profile tasks don't 'get given to the dwarf' if y'get me. The tasks that come to me are generally the most thankless, dirty, or tediously time consuming. However, I can with honesty say I have not yet been sent on a pointless job." The dwarf still looked troubled by something though, and was swift to continue thinking aloud. "But what I'm saying isn't mutually exclusive to what you're saying." Darrik tugged his beard, lips pursed. "Alright, let's play the maybe game." The 'Maybe Game' had driven his parents to distraction as an argumentative youth, but it still served a useful purpose. "Maybe what you say is true. So let's talk out the possibilities."
Darrik carefully started off with "First, the kind of person who could affect any aspect of decision making within the Guard would have to be someone of considerable influence within Marn. Secondly, they would also have to benefit from getting no useful answers from the deaths of comparative nobodies in old city. " The dwarf paused "And that's the problem, Toast. Who benefits from this? I can speculate conspiracies until the goats come home, and turn themselves into sausages for me, but sometimes it doesn't add up. Granted, there's a lot that is strange about this case. Lots of little things aren't adding up. But for all that my superiors may resent that I am a dwarf and made it into their ranks, they know full well that I follow things through. If they needed a job made mincemeat of, there's plenty of guards who are more brawns than brain, and don't bother looking beneath the surface." Which, come to think of it, was a stonecold fact. "Hold on a moment, just let me think this through quietly another couple of minutes. There's something niggling at me."
Darrik closed his eyes to shut out distractions, brow furrowed deeply as if by doing so he could squeeze more thoughts into his skull. Darrik played the Maybe Game. Played it through several perspectives. "Maybe it's more than just that. Let's say maybe there is a conspiracy. Let's say maybe some bigshot tried to have something swept under the rug. But here's a new maybe: Maybe someone else didn't want them to succeed."
The dwarf opened his eyes. "Let me ask you this: if someone wanted something swept under the rug, wanted this investigation to fail, would they all-of-a-bloody-sudden hire a gnome consultant whose only claim to fame - no offense intended, Toast - is an intimate knowledge of the sewers? Would they all-of-a-bloody-sudden partner him up with the dwarf guard who probably has the most sewer-trawling time logged out of any other poor bastard in uniform? Especially if he's got a reputation for being an - and I quote my superiors, here - "infuriatingly stubborn little bastard"? Darrik drummed his fingers on the tabletop "I don't think those actions add up to that goal. However, here's the new Maybe."
Darrik locked his gaze on Toast "Maybe those were the actions of someone sabotaging your conspiracy? If someone wanted to sabotage a conspiracy to make an investigation fail, would they pull the aforementioned stunts so damn quickly that I bet the ink on the paperwork was probably still wet when Sergeant Iron was having his fun at my expense?" Darrik pursed his lips "Jack's no fool, I bet he even guessed there was a shifter involved just from the mention of the albino." The dwarf added in a mutter "And Jack'd know full well that'd goad me into following this through to the bitter end, the sod." Darrik paused for a moment, trying to keep his thoughts and contradictory emotional responses in check, then realised he'd gone off on a tangent. "Though if that's true, it means I may have to give the smirking sergeant some credit if it all turns out to be a big conspiracy. So on principle I hope you're wrong, and that there's nothing more sinister going on" Darrik tugged his beard. "Tell me Toast, when did you find out about this opportunity to serve Marn?"
Darrik stops and shakes his head with a wry smile "Hah, just listen to us. Next thing you know, we'll be suspecting everyone and everything of being part of a conspiracy."
Shadows from the Sewers
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Toast couldn’t deny Darrik’s logic. Even if someone really had wanted them to go on a futile rat-hunt, there was something not quite right about this, and even if the Guard were somehow involved, there was no way they could tell for sure and they had not even an inkling of an idea of who might benefit from such a scheme or who would even take such a burden upon themselves in order to cover something up in such a confusing way. Someone with a lot to lose, was the obvious reply but that still didn’t put them even a baby step closer to finding out what was really going on.
Then again, the gnome hadn’t really expected wonders on the first day anyway. He didn’t believe in fairy tales.
While Darrik was once again absorbed into thought – Toast hadn’t commented before, only nodded along, his own forehead creased into a frown as he considered the statements – Pink made her way over to the table again, but Toast waved her away before she had reached them, mouthing a “later” with an apologetic smile. Shrugging, the waitress returned to her spot behind the bar from where she could observe the whole tavern, instantly following up requests from customers.
“Hmmm, no,” Toast agreed as Darrik presented his first couple of maybes. “Sweeping something under the rug would definitely not work in the sewers with a team such as ours. We’ve spent too much time down there not to find something or other that would finally point us in the right direction.”
He continued nodding along as Darrik developed the next part of the maybes, which ultimately was what made Toast question his own comment for a while as well. Yet, despite the doubts forming in his mind, he couldn’t shake the notion that maybe he wasn’t altogether wrong about the Guard somehow being involved in this. But he wasn’t going to root for an idea by shutting out every other possibility in the process.
“If Iron knew, then maybe he is the one trying to sabotage,” he mused quietly but quickly shook his head to avoid being too biased. “If someone where then to sabotage this quest by sending in the ‘experts’,” Toast airquoted the word, “then it is probably clear that this person is in danger too, which in turn suggests that we need to act even quicker or there might be a body or two.” The thought had a bitter aftertaste and Toast suddenly wondered if he had done the right thing accepting this mission for the Guard. What if people died because of him? It was one thing that he had no qualms about testing his inventions on certain people but it was a whole other if people were to die because something or other didn’t work the way it was supposed to.
“Me? Oh, well,” Toast cleared his throat. “It was just that a couple guards – they sometimes had to come along on some of the repair missions down in the sewers – were complaining about their feet getting wet and then being unable to get rid of the stench in their boots and socks for weeks on end. I developed a waterproofing method though I’m still not exactly sure how I do it, but it works. And then of course there is my little flashy light tube. A portable light that isn’t extinguished by the humidity down in the sewers and that can be attached to various bits of clothing. It’s rather handy, if I say so myself. SO I assume, those are the things why the City Guard has come to me for a bit of help. I don’t see any other reason because apparently they’re not really fond of my other inventions.”
Realising he was veering off topic himself, he cleared his throat again, emptied his mug and looked at Darrik. “This is rather messed up, isn’t it? But we’ll get to the bottom of this, won’t we?” A small grin began spreading across his face. He had no doubt that they were going to solve this, one way or another. Neither of them had the tendency of letting things go until they were satisfied, thus he was sure that they would continue their rather good partnership and solve this bastard, no matter what it took.
Then again, the gnome hadn’t really expected wonders on the first day anyway. He didn’t believe in fairy tales.
While Darrik was once again absorbed into thought – Toast hadn’t commented before, only nodded along, his own forehead creased into a frown as he considered the statements – Pink made her way over to the table again, but Toast waved her away before she had reached them, mouthing a “later” with an apologetic smile. Shrugging, the waitress returned to her spot behind the bar from where she could observe the whole tavern, instantly following up requests from customers.
“Hmmm, no,” Toast agreed as Darrik presented his first couple of maybes. “Sweeping something under the rug would definitely not work in the sewers with a team such as ours. We’ve spent too much time down there not to find something or other that would finally point us in the right direction.”
He continued nodding along as Darrik developed the next part of the maybes, which ultimately was what made Toast question his own comment for a while as well. Yet, despite the doubts forming in his mind, he couldn’t shake the notion that maybe he wasn’t altogether wrong about the Guard somehow being involved in this. But he wasn’t going to root for an idea by shutting out every other possibility in the process.
“If Iron knew, then maybe he is the one trying to sabotage,” he mused quietly but quickly shook his head to avoid being too biased. “If someone where then to sabotage this quest by sending in the ‘experts’,” Toast airquoted the word, “then it is probably clear that this person is in danger too, which in turn suggests that we need to act even quicker or there might be a body or two.” The thought had a bitter aftertaste and Toast suddenly wondered if he had done the right thing accepting this mission for the Guard. What if people died because of him? It was one thing that he had no qualms about testing his inventions on certain people but it was a whole other if people were to die because something or other didn’t work the way it was supposed to.
“Me? Oh, well,” Toast cleared his throat. “It was just that a couple guards – they sometimes had to come along on some of the repair missions down in the sewers – were complaining about their feet getting wet and then being unable to get rid of the stench in their boots and socks for weeks on end. I developed a waterproofing method though I’m still not exactly sure how I do it, but it works. And then of course there is my little flashy light tube. A portable light that isn’t extinguished by the humidity down in the sewers and that can be attached to various bits of clothing. It’s rather handy, if I say so myself. SO I assume, those are the things why the City Guard has come to me for a bit of help. I don’t see any other reason because apparently they’re not really fond of my other inventions.”
Realising he was veering off topic himself, he cleared his throat again, emptied his mug and looked at Darrik. “This is rather messed up, isn’t it? But we’ll get to the bottom of this, won’t we?” A small grin began spreading across his face. He had no doubt that they were going to solve this, one way or another. Neither of them had the tendency of letting things go until they were satisfied, thus he was sure that they would continue their rather good partnership and solve this bastard, no matter what it took.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik listened to Toast's thoughts on what he'd said, musing the ideas over, and allowed himself a laugh over Toast's recounting of his fellow guards' complaints. The dwarf had been the only one clever enough to buy a pair of fisherman's waders for sewer work. Came from having a tradesman's mind. When the gnome ended with his mostly rhetorical question the dwarf chuckled "Not a doubt in my mind, Toast. Not a single doubt in my mind." Which was a lie, really. Darrik had been a guard long enough to know that not all disappearances got explained, not all victims received posthumous justice. But no need to go shattering a bloke's optimism their first day on the job. Let the cynicism creep in after a month or a year, as per standard procedure.
The dwarf was quick to offer other reassurances, however, before the gnome's seeming tendency towards conspiracy theories and paranoia got the better of him "All in all, though, I say there's no need to be worrying so much. We guards can take care of ourselves. A bit of danger is part of the job. When we sign on to the Guard - whether we be elf, human, or dwarf - we're saying we're ready and able to take on threats within the city. And we're ready to do it head on, and without backing down." Darrik smiles wryly "Now, I'm not saying I agree with this whole conspiracy theory notion you've got going, though I'm not ruling it out either. But if there's one thing I can say it's this: We guards can take care of ourselves while still taking care of the city." The dwarven guard downed the last of his own lager and added "Part of the job is watching one's own back, after all."
Darrik gave Pink a slight wave and smile to catch her attention before saying "Now, what we should be thinkin' about is the best way t'handle this investigation." Darrik had noted Pink's promptness earlier, and paused in his conversation when Pink popped over to their table again "My compliments to them what brewed this lager, Pink. If you could be a dear and package up some bread and cheese for me, that'd be lovely. Guarantee'd it'll be a busy afternoon for me, with no recourse for another sit-down meal." Darrik gave Pink a chance to take the empty dishes, and attend to whatever instructions Toast might have for her, before he continued.
"Now, fact is, we each have our specialities. I don't have qualms about chattin' with folks official-like, an' you know the sewers like I know the cuts of livestock. So, what I propose is this: I'll take care of questionin' the rest o'the witnesses, and you see if you can pull some favours with your family and colleagues, and have some of the main sewer entrances quietly watched for anythin' unusual for the comin' week. The more eyes quietly watchin' the sewers, the better. That'll at least let us rule out some o'the access points an' help us narrow down our own enquiries." The dwarf guard mentally tallied who he had yet to question "Chances are it'll take another day or so, if I'm lucky, t'find an' question the other witnesses. If the plan sounds good to you, I'd suggest we meet back here tomorrow evening t'compare notes an' update each other. What are your thoughts on it?" Darrik grinned and added "Given you know your job an' contacts better than I do, I am open to more effective ideas on how t'have you spend th'next day an' a half."
The dwarf was quick to offer other reassurances, however, before the gnome's seeming tendency towards conspiracy theories and paranoia got the better of him "All in all, though, I say there's no need to be worrying so much. We guards can take care of ourselves. A bit of danger is part of the job. When we sign on to the Guard - whether we be elf, human, or dwarf - we're saying we're ready and able to take on threats within the city. And we're ready to do it head on, and without backing down." Darrik smiles wryly "Now, I'm not saying I agree with this whole conspiracy theory notion you've got going, though I'm not ruling it out either. But if there's one thing I can say it's this: We guards can take care of ourselves while still taking care of the city." The dwarven guard downed the last of his own lager and added "Part of the job is watching one's own back, after all."
Darrik gave Pink a slight wave and smile to catch her attention before saying "Now, what we should be thinkin' about is the best way t'handle this investigation." Darrik had noted Pink's promptness earlier, and paused in his conversation when Pink popped over to their table again "My compliments to them what brewed this lager, Pink. If you could be a dear and package up some bread and cheese for me, that'd be lovely. Guarantee'd it'll be a busy afternoon for me, with no recourse for another sit-down meal." Darrik gave Pink a chance to take the empty dishes, and attend to whatever instructions Toast might have for her, before he continued.
"Now, fact is, we each have our specialities. I don't have qualms about chattin' with folks official-like, an' you know the sewers like I know the cuts of livestock. So, what I propose is this: I'll take care of questionin' the rest o'the witnesses, and you see if you can pull some favours with your family and colleagues, and have some of the main sewer entrances quietly watched for anythin' unusual for the comin' week. The more eyes quietly watchin' the sewers, the better. That'll at least let us rule out some o'the access points an' help us narrow down our own enquiries." The dwarf guard mentally tallied who he had yet to question "Chances are it'll take another day or so, if I'm lucky, t'find an' question the other witnesses. If the plan sounds good to you, I'd suggest we meet back here tomorrow evening t'compare notes an' update each other. What are your thoughts on it?" Darrik grinned and added "Given you know your job an' contacts better than I do, I am open to more effective ideas on how t'have you spend th'next day an' a half."
Last edited by Darrik on Sat Jul 06, 2013 7:36 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
“Oh no no, I’m not saying it’s true either, but it definitely could be a possibility,” Toast commented. “Though of course, there are many more possibilities, some of which we probably haven’t even thought of.” It was a sobering thought but the gnome wasn’t going to linger on it or it was going to drive him nuts that he couldn’t think of every angle to this whole scenario.
“Well, yes, I guess that does come with the job. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve in that respect as well seeing that I have been working in the sewers for the greater part of my life with my back turned toward any oncoming threat, so I may have a few things to aid us on our quest once we go down into the sewers. Honestly though, knowing what is sometimes crawling through the sewers, it was a good thing to have a guard at my back from time to time even if most of them were not really the companionable sort.” Realising that he was basically insulting Darrik’s colleagues, he frantically searched for a comeback but was luckily saved by Pink’s appearance but he didn’t have any further requests as far as food was concerned. He was used to getting along with little food during the day, because even if his sense of smell was somewhat dulled by an unfortunate incident a few years back, his sense of taste was still mostly intact and eating down in the sewers was not a good thing to be doing.
And down into the sewers was where he was most likely headed. Nodding along to Darrik’s suggestion, he finally spoke out loud. “Yes, I agree. Observation of a few main entrances, and where possible of the sites where the rats may have entered into the sewer system would be a good thing. A friend of mine has developed a sort of … well… observation system, so to speak. It doesn’t function quite like it should yet, but it would always be worth a try. If it’s helpful, all the better. If not, well at least I can then give him pointers as to what he should remedy. As for the rest, gnomes have eyes and ears everywhere in the sewers. I shouldn’t have a problem to find a few willing to keep an eye out for anything that could relate to our mission.” In truth, he really wasn’t sure his friend’s system was going to be functional anyhow, but it seemed like a good enough reason to bug him to test it or to get moving on it.
“Let’s see what we’ll come up with, indeed. Maybe tomorrow evening we’ll be a little wiser. The gnome gossip mill may produce something useful. One never knows. It might not all be reliable, but maybe I can manage to filter a little bit. It seems odd that there hasn’t been any talk about this amidst the gnomes. After all, they have been using the sewers and someone must have seen them. Other than the sometimes not so reliable people milling the streets in this part of town. I just… I can’t quite wrap my head around it.”
Either way, it was of no use dwelling over this. They had to get to work. If they wanted to find out what was going on, they would have to investigate a little bit, and for now, the best way to do that was for both of them to do what they both did best.
“Alright, I’ll meet you here tomorrow evening for a nice little meal and a chat. Good luck!” On his way out of the Rusty Wheel, Toast asked Pink to keep that particular table free for them the next evening so they could be sure to have their somewhat secluded place, slightly offset from all the other tables so that it would be harder to be overheard. The waitress smiled and nodded, assuring him that the table would be free for the both of them. It sometimes was a blessing to know the people who worked in taverns!
“Well, yes, I guess that does come with the job. I do have a few tricks up my sleeve in that respect as well seeing that I have been working in the sewers for the greater part of my life with my back turned toward any oncoming threat, so I may have a few things to aid us on our quest once we go down into the sewers. Honestly though, knowing what is sometimes crawling through the sewers, it was a good thing to have a guard at my back from time to time even if most of them were not really the companionable sort.” Realising that he was basically insulting Darrik’s colleagues, he frantically searched for a comeback but was luckily saved by Pink’s appearance but he didn’t have any further requests as far as food was concerned. He was used to getting along with little food during the day, because even if his sense of smell was somewhat dulled by an unfortunate incident a few years back, his sense of taste was still mostly intact and eating down in the sewers was not a good thing to be doing.
And down into the sewers was where he was most likely headed. Nodding along to Darrik’s suggestion, he finally spoke out loud. “Yes, I agree. Observation of a few main entrances, and where possible of the sites where the rats may have entered into the sewer system would be a good thing. A friend of mine has developed a sort of … well… observation system, so to speak. It doesn’t function quite like it should yet, but it would always be worth a try. If it’s helpful, all the better. If not, well at least I can then give him pointers as to what he should remedy. As for the rest, gnomes have eyes and ears everywhere in the sewers. I shouldn’t have a problem to find a few willing to keep an eye out for anything that could relate to our mission.” In truth, he really wasn’t sure his friend’s system was going to be functional anyhow, but it seemed like a good enough reason to bug him to test it or to get moving on it.
“Let’s see what we’ll come up with, indeed. Maybe tomorrow evening we’ll be a little wiser. The gnome gossip mill may produce something useful. One never knows. It might not all be reliable, but maybe I can manage to filter a little bit. It seems odd that there hasn’t been any talk about this amidst the gnomes. After all, they have been using the sewers and someone must have seen them. Other than the sometimes not so reliable people milling the streets in this part of town. I just… I can’t quite wrap my head around it.”
Either way, it was of no use dwelling over this. They had to get to work. If they wanted to find out what was going on, they would have to investigate a little bit, and for now, the best way to do that was for both of them to do what they both did best.
“Alright, I’ll meet you here tomorrow evening for a nice little meal and a chat. Good luck!” On his way out of the Rusty Wheel, Toast asked Pink to keep that particular table free for them the next evening so they could be sure to have their somewhat secluded place, slightly offset from all the other tables so that it would be harder to be overheard. The waitress smiled and nodded, assuring him that the table would be free for the both of them. It sometimes was a blessing to know the people who worked in taverns!
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
An hour after he'd parted ways with Toast, Darrik had already found himself desiring the presence of his new partner. Or, at the very least, a tranquilliser dartgun of his own. The dwarf guard was seated at a grimy mockery of a piss-up shop down in old city selling terrible beer for worse customers. His presence had driven away all but the most inebriated of clientele: the tranquilliser gun he desired so much would have been for the alewrecked witness Marc who was currently rambling off on several different lines of thought all at once. Marc, a labourer with bad teeth, worse breath, and deteriorating health had seen and reported the attack on a fellow labourer and local thug named Hahmed. How the guard who Marc had approached with his story had ever gotten the details down in a condensed fashion was beyond Darrik. Finding the bastard had been hard enough, but the dwarf had been listening to Marc's drivel for half an hour now, and all he'd learned was that the thug Hahmed had been taken by rats. Which the report had already covered.
Darrik clenched his teeth and begged Teodinus for the patience to deal with humans who couldn't handle their damn drink. "Marc, focus on me for a blimmin' second, would you?" The dwarf waved his hand in front of the drunkard's face and clicked his fingers to try and get the man's attention. "I already know it was big rats, and there was a white one. I don't need to know what you did for the past four bloody weeks! Tell me about the bloody rats, alright? Where'd they go afterwards?" The urge to shake the man by the shoulders was strong, but the notion of unnecessary physical contact with the man did not appeal to the dwarf. Marc's unfocused gaze wavered from beefy dwarven fingers to thick black beard then back to his mug's dwindling contents. After another ten minutes of the wastrel's useless drivel, Darrik gave up. Some witnesses were worse than useless, but that was nothing new in this part of town. The guard who'd taken the report had made special note that they'd checked with the foreman at the section where Marc and Hahmed worked, who'd confirmed Hahmed's continuing absence. Darrik now understood why that guard had gone out of their way to do so. Marc was a hard man to take at face value.
Ten minutes later found Darrik in fresher air and leaned against some rubble, his polished armour ensuring his solitude, as the dwarf watched the rampaging waters of the Ofriyu. It was another one of his little luxuries. The sight of the river's torrents passing unhindered and uncaring of the works of man was humbling. It helped the dwarf keep a sense of perspective when he needed it. He'd certainly need it, because the next person on his list was a beggar, going by the descriptive name of Legless Lazar, who'd been nearby when another beggar was taken by rats. The report had been terse, with all the hallmarks of being taken down solely for the sake of shutting Lazar up long enough to let the guard who the beggar had approached find something more interesting to do. The missing person in this case was a man disfigured as a child, whose 'career' in begging came under the name of 'Nearly faceless Nikos'. On the bright side, Darrik mused, Legless Lazar wasn't likely to go dashing off on him when he started asking questions.
It only took another half an hour before Darrik realised that his entire day was going to be an utter ruin. 'Legless Lazar' his great bushy beard! The blighted beggar may not have had legs, but the damned wheeled contraption he got about on made the little bastard faster than Darrik at least. What was it with people running away today, anyway? There was no dignity to be found in a dwarf running, a fact of which all dwarves including Darrik were aware. Which was why Darrik maintained a steady jog in pursuit. Still, as the dwarf guard watched Lazar bouncing downhill on his strange little cart-thing, Darrik had to admire the beggar's gumption. Not enough, however, to deter the rising irritation which added a hard glint to his dour expression.
Darrik spent the better part of that afternoon hunting the beggar, until the dwarf's superior stamina brought him victory when the beggard was forced by limited endurance into a wheezing halt within an enclosure of broken masonry. As the cringing little man in his wheeled box covered his head with his arms in expectation of an imminent beating, Darrik took a deep breath to calm himself. "A'right, Lazar. I won't lie. I am bloody angry that I've had t'spend this much effort finding you. An' I would happen to be within my rights to smack you one for inconveniencing official Guard business like this. But I'm not going to. Do you know why?" Darrik levelled a stern look at Lazar, clearly indicating a reply was expected.
Lazar, a balding and emaciated little man, could only respond with hoarse gasps while he tried to regain his breath. Eventually, the beggar opted for 'brief and truthful, and replied with a hesitant 'No?'. Darrik grunted in satisfaction, ignoring the damp sensation of the sweat-soaked garments clinging to his skin beneath his gambeson. Fit or not, jogging in armour was no joke, no matter how often one's career made you have to do it. It was a credit to Darrik's physical ability and enduring poor fortune that he didn't have to do a lot to catch his breath after such measured exertion. "It's simple. I'm the unlucky sod sent to go huntin' large rats, an' the sewers are a big place. So I'm lookin' for more detail than what that guard y'spoke with put in their report." Darrik's tone made the statement a tacit invitation for the beggar to get started right away on providing such detail.
If the dwarf had expected immediate gratification on the subject, Lazar provided immediate disappointment. The wispy-haired fellow shook his head violently, convulsive shivers running savagely through him. Hardly the 'Sure thing, boss: two streets down, sewer entrance to the left' response Darrik had been secretly hoping for. The dwarf tugged his beard in irritation, resisting the urge to slap some sense into the fool. There was something off about the intensity of Lazar's responses. Darrik was used to folks being uneasy about talking to him in an official capacity, but normally they'd just outright lie, claim ignorance or deflect the topic as best they could. Running away and outright refusing to answer a guard while shivering like a naked man in the snow? That was blimmin' not normal. What in the Settlers' names was going on with people today, anyway? Darrik put some steel in his voice, in the hopes it would somehow put some steel in the beggar's spine. "Pull yerself together dammit, Lazar. I'm just asking for some details to help me find the damn critters what took Nikos. what is so hard about that, eh? Forget for a bloody moment I'm wearin' guard armour, and just worry about what will happen if someone doesn't find and kill those damn abominations."
It was a reasonable request, Darrik thought. What rational man could argue with the logic? It was a dirty job that needed doing, and he wasn't asking Lazar to come with him after all, just provide information to help him out. But Lazar evidently didn't think so. Or think rationally, for that matter, in the dwarf's estimation. The beggar's continued refusal to speak another damn word dumbfounded the dwarf. He tried repeating the question. Lazar clamped his eyes tightly shut, curled up, and continued his convincing portrayal of abject terror. A third repetition didn't help either. Even clamping his left hand on the beggar's bony shoulder and giving him a thorough shake didn't help Darrik dislodge a damn word from Lazar. It did however convince him that the shaking was genuine. It had, the dwarf decided, turned into one of those days where he could happily punch someone in the face.
If there was one thing in life which annoyed Darrik, it was unreasonable people. Folks who, when presented with a calm and rational scenario, respond irrationally. Still, looking at the human wreckage quaking in its little box, Darrik could only sigh and tug his beard. It just wasn't his day, that was all. Maybe if he tried the bloke another day, he'd be less resistant to communication. With pursed lips, Darrik shook his head and stated "Well then. I'll leave you be. No point beatin' sense into you when I'm tryin' to help keep you an' yours from gettin' picked off by abominations of magic. Hopefully you'll come around some other day." Trying not to let frustration get to him, Darrik tromped off, seeking a spot where he could view the Ofriyu undisturbed while making a belated meal of the bread and cheese he'd bought from the Rusty Wheel earlier.
Despite the charms of the Ofriyu under the developing gloom of a predusk sky, it was a disgruntled Darrik who found his way back to the small inn where he'd been living since joining the guard. The operator Fredrik, another dwarf who'd made a decent life for himself as a businessmen in Marn, knew Darrik's temperament well enough to recognise a bad day on the job. The dwarf was tending bar, and called out "Evenin' Darrik. The usual for you?" Darrik nodded briefly before clomping his way up the stairs to his room. A short while later, the dwarf guard was slowly draining a pint of dwarven stout, and exchanging smalltalk with Fredrik. It had been a slow day for the inn, Darrik had been told, but with one of the serving girls in bed with fever that was no true hardship. Other frivolous local gossip followed, a kind of companionable background noise provided by Fredrik to give Darrik something to focus on during the act of drinking.
Darrik in turn glossed over the latest news, mentioning his new partner, and that the city must be getting a little softer in how it was treating non-humans these days, not that anyone believed it for a moment. Two leisurely pints and half an hour of smalltalk passed before Darrik got down to a topic that had been bothering him since the morning. "Say, Fredrik, some young buck I overheard recently mentioned that kids these days can earn themselves a bit of a sideline running errands all over the place, from the ruins to the industrial district and the like. Makes me wish I'd heard of that when old Holsted docked my pay those times he and I scrapped during my apprenticeship all those years ago." For a moment, as he had many times over the previous few years, Darrik felt a flash of regret. A decade ago, when he was just a butcher who'd come in for a few pints, Darrik never would have had to beat around the bush like this. He could have just said 'Tell me about them errand runners, Fredrik', and Fredrik would have - no reason not to. But now that Darrik was a guard, well, even old friends always wondered 'is this question safe, or are there ulterior guard motives attached?'. Although the dwarf guard had to admit they had a damn good point.
Fredrik laughed "Even so, Darrik, I'd have not told you of it then or now. Not exactly work on the straight and narrow, if you get me. I couldn't prove anything of course, but the rumour mill is what it is, right?" More circumlocutions in what would have once been a straightforward answer. Fredrik's way of saying 'Look, this is what I know, but I didn't really say it officially, you know?'. Darrik smiled slightly "Right you are, Fredrik. Rumours are always just a bit of entertainment, aye? A good way to accompany another pint, in fact" Fredrik nodded, and filled another glass for Darrik as he said "Well you know better than I that there's unsavoury types out there, and it's not like they don't need to get word or things to other unsavoury types. Well, who better than some kid who has little more than his name and some street smarts, right? Give them scamps a chance to make a reputation for themselves, with a bit of something to help them get by, and I wouldn't be surprised if they jumped right at it." Darrik chuckled as he accepted the pint and responded "Even a young bloke who had a bit more than nothing might find the notion appealing, I reckon. Get treated like a kid, and you want to go do something to prove you're an adult. Pretty much the story behind every black eye Holsted ever gave me." Fredrik laughed in response "Well, you might even have something there." The conversation turned back to more casual conversation topics then: the price of comestibles, a decent whinge about shoddy coopers, and general discussion of how the local businesses were faring.
Darrik retired to bed early, with the full intent of sleeping away the day's frustrations and waking early enough to make a decent go of it the next day. But the night had just as much interest in abiding by Darrik's wishes as the day had. The dwarf's sleep was uneasy, a restless affair of half-formed dreams and nightmares. Darrik started awake an hour before dawn, sheets soaked in his sweat. The dwarf fought to control his breathing as the impression of Hilde's sleeping form and an albino orc swinging a three-bladed scimitar faded from his vision. The dwarf ran a hand down his face and beard and let out a long sigh. He felt a lot older than his 82 years after nightmares like that. Darrik could have sworn there was a faint trace of the same scent which had lingered over Hilde's mutilated body all that time ago in the air now. But he didn't need someone else in the room to know it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Henrik had helped him reach that conclusion long ago. But it didn't help. Seemed to happen every time he crossed paths with a shifter, and Darrik didn't need an outside opinion to know what that was all about.
With a grumpy sigh, Darrik took his washbasin to the nearest tap and filled it. A splash of cold water over his face and neck helped clear the cobwebs from out of his mind, if not the spiders which wove them. As it turned out, the early start to his daily routine meant that Darrik was one of the earliest guards to report into Fort Marn for the morning. Earlier than Jack Iron, at any rate, so Darrik simply left a message with the despatch clerks to state the investigation was 'proceeding smoothly in the short time they'd had thus far'. Jack'd no doubt get enough of a chuckle out of 'short time' to avoid pressing the issue of Darrik not hanging around to report in properly about the progress of his new partner. The sun was still wiping the sleep from its own bright eyes when Darrik trudged into old city to try and find the man who'd witnessed the pack of orcrats taking Hyacinth.
Darrik clenched his teeth and begged Teodinus for the patience to deal with humans who couldn't handle their damn drink. "Marc, focus on me for a blimmin' second, would you?" The dwarf waved his hand in front of the drunkard's face and clicked his fingers to try and get the man's attention. "I already know it was big rats, and there was a white one. I don't need to know what you did for the past four bloody weeks! Tell me about the bloody rats, alright? Where'd they go afterwards?" The urge to shake the man by the shoulders was strong, but the notion of unnecessary physical contact with the man did not appeal to the dwarf. Marc's unfocused gaze wavered from beefy dwarven fingers to thick black beard then back to his mug's dwindling contents. After another ten minutes of the wastrel's useless drivel, Darrik gave up. Some witnesses were worse than useless, but that was nothing new in this part of town. The guard who'd taken the report had made special note that they'd checked with the foreman at the section where Marc and Hahmed worked, who'd confirmed Hahmed's continuing absence. Darrik now understood why that guard had gone out of their way to do so. Marc was a hard man to take at face value.
Ten minutes later found Darrik in fresher air and leaned against some rubble, his polished armour ensuring his solitude, as the dwarf watched the rampaging waters of the Ofriyu. It was another one of his little luxuries. The sight of the river's torrents passing unhindered and uncaring of the works of man was humbling. It helped the dwarf keep a sense of perspective when he needed it. He'd certainly need it, because the next person on his list was a beggar, going by the descriptive name of Legless Lazar, who'd been nearby when another beggar was taken by rats. The report had been terse, with all the hallmarks of being taken down solely for the sake of shutting Lazar up long enough to let the guard who the beggar had approached find something more interesting to do. The missing person in this case was a man disfigured as a child, whose 'career' in begging came under the name of 'Nearly faceless Nikos'. On the bright side, Darrik mused, Legless Lazar wasn't likely to go dashing off on him when he started asking questions.
It only took another half an hour before Darrik realised that his entire day was going to be an utter ruin. 'Legless Lazar' his great bushy beard! The blighted beggar may not have had legs, but the damned wheeled contraption he got about on made the little bastard faster than Darrik at least. What was it with people running away today, anyway? There was no dignity to be found in a dwarf running, a fact of which all dwarves including Darrik were aware. Which was why Darrik maintained a steady jog in pursuit. Still, as the dwarf guard watched Lazar bouncing downhill on his strange little cart-thing, Darrik had to admire the beggar's gumption. Not enough, however, to deter the rising irritation which added a hard glint to his dour expression.
Darrik spent the better part of that afternoon hunting the beggar, until the dwarf's superior stamina brought him victory when the beggard was forced by limited endurance into a wheezing halt within an enclosure of broken masonry. As the cringing little man in his wheeled box covered his head with his arms in expectation of an imminent beating, Darrik took a deep breath to calm himself. "A'right, Lazar. I won't lie. I am bloody angry that I've had t'spend this much effort finding you. An' I would happen to be within my rights to smack you one for inconveniencing official Guard business like this. But I'm not going to. Do you know why?" Darrik levelled a stern look at Lazar, clearly indicating a reply was expected.
Lazar, a balding and emaciated little man, could only respond with hoarse gasps while he tried to regain his breath. Eventually, the beggar opted for 'brief and truthful, and replied with a hesitant 'No?'. Darrik grunted in satisfaction, ignoring the damp sensation of the sweat-soaked garments clinging to his skin beneath his gambeson. Fit or not, jogging in armour was no joke, no matter how often one's career made you have to do it. It was a credit to Darrik's physical ability and enduring poor fortune that he didn't have to do a lot to catch his breath after such measured exertion. "It's simple. I'm the unlucky sod sent to go huntin' large rats, an' the sewers are a big place. So I'm lookin' for more detail than what that guard y'spoke with put in their report." Darrik's tone made the statement a tacit invitation for the beggar to get started right away on providing such detail.
If the dwarf had expected immediate gratification on the subject, Lazar provided immediate disappointment. The wispy-haired fellow shook his head violently, convulsive shivers running savagely through him. Hardly the 'Sure thing, boss: two streets down, sewer entrance to the left' response Darrik had been secretly hoping for. The dwarf tugged his beard in irritation, resisting the urge to slap some sense into the fool. There was something off about the intensity of Lazar's responses. Darrik was used to folks being uneasy about talking to him in an official capacity, but normally they'd just outright lie, claim ignorance or deflect the topic as best they could. Running away and outright refusing to answer a guard while shivering like a naked man in the snow? That was blimmin' not normal. What in the Settlers' names was going on with people today, anyway? Darrik put some steel in his voice, in the hopes it would somehow put some steel in the beggar's spine. "Pull yerself together dammit, Lazar. I'm just asking for some details to help me find the damn critters what took Nikos. what is so hard about that, eh? Forget for a bloody moment I'm wearin' guard armour, and just worry about what will happen if someone doesn't find and kill those damn abominations."
It was a reasonable request, Darrik thought. What rational man could argue with the logic? It was a dirty job that needed doing, and he wasn't asking Lazar to come with him after all, just provide information to help him out. But Lazar evidently didn't think so. Or think rationally, for that matter, in the dwarf's estimation. The beggar's continued refusal to speak another damn word dumbfounded the dwarf. He tried repeating the question. Lazar clamped his eyes tightly shut, curled up, and continued his convincing portrayal of abject terror. A third repetition didn't help either. Even clamping his left hand on the beggar's bony shoulder and giving him a thorough shake didn't help Darrik dislodge a damn word from Lazar. It did however convince him that the shaking was genuine. It had, the dwarf decided, turned into one of those days where he could happily punch someone in the face.
If there was one thing in life which annoyed Darrik, it was unreasonable people. Folks who, when presented with a calm and rational scenario, respond irrationally. Still, looking at the human wreckage quaking in its little box, Darrik could only sigh and tug his beard. It just wasn't his day, that was all. Maybe if he tried the bloke another day, he'd be less resistant to communication. With pursed lips, Darrik shook his head and stated "Well then. I'll leave you be. No point beatin' sense into you when I'm tryin' to help keep you an' yours from gettin' picked off by abominations of magic. Hopefully you'll come around some other day." Trying not to let frustration get to him, Darrik tromped off, seeking a spot where he could view the Ofriyu undisturbed while making a belated meal of the bread and cheese he'd bought from the Rusty Wheel earlier.
Despite the charms of the Ofriyu under the developing gloom of a predusk sky, it was a disgruntled Darrik who found his way back to the small inn where he'd been living since joining the guard. The operator Fredrik, another dwarf who'd made a decent life for himself as a businessmen in Marn, knew Darrik's temperament well enough to recognise a bad day on the job. The dwarf was tending bar, and called out "Evenin' Darrik. The usual for you?" Darrik nodded briefly before clomping his way up the stairs to his room. A short while later, the dwarf guard was slowly draining a pint of dwarven stout, and exchanging smalltalk with Fredrik. It had been a slow day for the inn, Darrik had been told, but with one of the serving girls in bed with fever that was no true hardship. Other frivolous local gossip followed, a kind of companionable background noise provided by Fredrik to give Darrik something to focus on during the act of drinking.
Darrik in turn glossed over the latest news, mentioning his new partner, and that the city must be getting a little softer in how it was treating non-humans these days, not that anyone believed it for a moment. Two leisurely pints and half an hour of smalltalk passed before Darrik got down to a topic that had been bothering him since the morning. "Say, Fredrik, some young buck I overheard recently mentioned that kids these days can earn themselves a bit of a sideline running errands all over the place, from the ruins to the industrial district and the like. Makes me wish I'd heard of that when old Holsted docked my pay those times he and I scrapped during my apprenticeship all those years ago." For a moment, as he had many times over the previous few years, Darrik felt a flash of regret. A decade ago, when he was just a butcher who'd come in for a few pints, Darrik never would have had to beat around the bush like this. He could have just said 'Tell me about them errand runners, Fredrik', and Fredrik would have - no reason not to. But now that Darrik was a guard, well, even old friends always wondered 'is this question safe, or are there ulterior guard motives attached?'. Although the dwarf guard had to admit they had a damn good point.
Fredrik laughed "Even so, Darrik, I'd have not told you of it then or now. Not exactly work on the straight and narrow, if you get me. I couldn't prove anything of course, but the rumour mill is what it is, right?" More circumlocutions in what would have once been a straightforward answer. Fredrik's way of saying 'Look, this is what I know, but I didn't really say it officially, you know?'. Darrik smiled slightly "Right you are, Fredrik. Rumours are always just a bit of entertainment, aye? A good way to accompany another pint, in fact" Fredrik nodded, and filled another glass for Darrik as he said "Well you know better than I that there's unsavoury types out there, and it's not like they don't need to get word or things to other unsavoury types. Well, who better than some kid who has little more than his name and some street smarts, right? Give them scamps a chance to make a reputation for themselves, with a bit of something to help them get by, and I wouldn't be surprised if they jumped right at it." Darrik chuckled as he accepted the pint and responded "Even a young bloke who had a bit more than nothing might find the notion appealing, I reckon. Get treated like a kid, and you want to go do something to prove you're an adult. Pretty much the story behind every black eye Holsted ever gave me." Fredrik laughed in response "Well, you might even have something there." The conversation turned back to more casual conversation topics then: the price of comestibles, a decent whinge about shoddy coopers, and general discussion of how the local businesses were faring.
Darrik retired to bed early, with the full intent of sleeping away the day's frustrations and waking early enough to make a decent go of it the next day. But the night had just as much interest in abiding by Darrik's wishes as the day had. The dwarf's sleep was uneasy, a restless affair of half-formed dreams and nightmares. Darrik started awake an hour before dawn, sheets soaked in his sweat. The dwarf fought to control his breathing as the impression of Hilde's sleeping form and an albino orc swinging a three-bladed scimitar faded from his vision. The dwarf ran a hand down his face and beard and let out a long sigh. He felt a lot older than his 82 years after nightmares like that. Darrik could have sworn there was a faint trace of the same scent which had lingered over Hilde's mutilated body all that time ago in the air now. But he didn't need someone else in the room to know it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Henrik had helped him reach that conclusion long ago. But it didn't help. Seemed to happen every time he crossed paths with a shifter, and Darrik didn't need an outside opinion to know what that was all about.
With a grumpy sigh, Darrik took his washbasin to the nearest tap and filled it. A splash of cold water over his face and neck helped clear the cobwebs from out of his mind, if not the spiders which wove them. As it turned out, the early start to his daily routine meant that Darrik was one of the earliest guards to report into Fort Marn for the morning. Earlier than Jack Iron, at any rate, so Darrik simply left a message with the despatch clerks to state the investigation was 'proceeding smoothly in the short time they'd had thus far'. Jack'd no doubt get enough of a chuckle out of 'short time' to avoid pressing the issue of Darrik not hanging around to report in properly about the progress of his new partner. The sun was still wiping the sleep from its own bright eyes when Darrik trudged into old city to try and find the man who'd witnessed the pack of orcrats taking Hyacinth.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
After he had parted ways with Darrik, Toast made his way back to his family home, all the while pondering the morning’s events. For only a few short hours on the job, they had already done quite a lot but were none the wiser, or at least that’s how the gnome felt deep down inside. The more they found out, the more questions there were and Toast felt as though they were pedaling backwards rather than going forwards. But maybe that was the way an investigation was supposed to go. He couldn’t be sure.
Nobody was at home, which suited Toast just fine as he rummaged through his workshop in search of a few flash-tubes to provide some light in the sewers. He wasn’t sure he was ready yet to be bombarded by questions about the new job just yet. It seemed to be almost too new to say anything about. At least, he liked his partner, even if the job was a little odd.
As soon as his backpack was filled with all the little accessories he might need on his trip into the sewers, he made his way to the next street over where Spike Fiddlesticks was living. With high hopes about his friend’s observation system, Toast didn’t bother with knocking but simply went round back and slipped in through the door leading down into the cellar. If Toast was used to working in the sewers, Spike was even more so. His whole life was based around the sewers and he even worked in a dark cellar with barely any light.
“You’re never going to get a girl if you don’t go outside from time to time,” Toast joked by way of greeting. Spike looked up from the pile of clock wheels in front of him and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Toast replied. “I need your help.”
Nodding, Spike motioned for Toast to take a seat as he put all the scattered wheels back into the pile and shoved it slightly forwards on the huge work bench in order to make himself some room. His small eyes, which always reminded Toast of a mole’s, blinked at his friend. “What is it you need? The observation system, isn’t it? I knew it would come in handy some day! You know, that was exactly the reason why I designed it in the first place. To revolutionise the sewers! I’m telling you, I will be famous for this creation!”
Toast could only nod along in enthusiasm, not even realising that Spike sounded like a slightly exaggerated version of himself when it came to boasting about inventions. Spike just took it a step further and was gesticulating like a madman while practically jumping up and down in his seat. “Here, have a look,” he invited Toast. “I have made a few small modifications. You’ll see, it’s much better this way!” All the while, the gnome was rummaging around the many materials and inventions on his work bench, pulling out several similar pieces.
“See these things here?” Spike asked but continued without waiting for Toast’s reply. The latter quite simply shuffled closer with his stool and intently studied whatever Spike was pointing at and shoving into his face for inspection. “I decided to change the whole system again because the previous model didn’t work, at all. Now, I may not yet have tested this one, but I am absolutely positive that it will work! You see these little windows in the thing? I have wired them to…”
For at least half an hour, Spike went on to explain and describe his invention in the most minute detail and all the while Toast kept wondering why he hadn’t though of something like that, or if he could borrow the general idea to fix his latest creation somehow, of course in cooperation with Spike in that case – a second brain on that thing might produce wonders.
The essential thing about the observation system was that Spike created a sort of mechanical bug that would monitor movement. A bulb on the inside of the small device would light if motion was detected and thus alert the owner to a presence. Of course, the bulb could only be checked by opening the top so as not to scare any visitors away.
“So, basically, even if the system works without a problem, I still won’t know who actually passed through the sewers in the middle of the night?” Toast asked, just to be sure he had understood it all.
“Well, no,” Spike admitted reluctantly. “But at least you will know if someone was there? Practically no gnome is in the sewers at night. Heck, nobody is probably in the sewers at night apart from rats, and isn’t that exactly whom you want to capture?”
“I guess,” Toast replied as he mulled all of this over. “Let’s just give it a try. If we don’t achieve the desired result, we can always work out something else. How many of those bugs you have?”
Spike rummaged around on his work space for a few minutes longer before pulling out a smaller one, who had hidden beneath a pile of materials. “I’ve got six now. That should be enough for the time being, right? At least it will cover the main entries.” Toast voiced his agreement and after they had carefully packed up all the things they needed for Operation: Sewers, Spike and Toast instantly headed down into the smelly night.
While they were wading through the sewers in an attempt to find the most suitable spots to put up Spike’s observation system so that the doorways were in full view of the bug, Toast noticed that there were no unusual rat droppings nowhere. It may not have been his favourite pastime while being in the sewers to keep an eye on excrement but he couldn’t help but notice. For the unusually large rats they were trying to uncover, there would most likely have to be either an unusual amount of normal droppings, or quite larger droppings – neither was the case.
“Tomorrow morning, alright? I’ll come along to help you check out the findings. Just pick me up whenever you’re ready, I probably won’t be sleeping anyway. Here’s hoping the system will work!” Spike beamed at Toast, his whole expression hopeful but at the same time certain that they were going to find something at least.
“Don’t get your hopes up about the rats, but at least I hope that we can manage to proof that your system is working just fine!” Toast countered. He was almost certain that they weren’t going to make any observations that night, but one could always hope!
The remainder of the night passed fairly quietly for Toast apart from being drilled by his parents about the new job. His sisters feigned disinterest before disappearing for a night out with their group of girlfriends. All the better, in Toast’s opinion. As much as he loved Petal and Button, he was always glad when he had a bit of a break from their blabbering. It was the only reason he would even consider moving out, but it would be too much hassle to clear out all his things and he had his own place afterall, just fairly close to home.
Tilbi and Sprocket soon enough understood however that Toast couldn’t tell them much about the job because it had only been a day. Plus, he could really tell them everything about an ongoing investigation, it simply wouldn’t do and he didn’t want to risk it being leaked to his superiors that he was discussing his business with his family. Thus, he could not really give them many details apart from telling them about Darrik.
Sure enough, the Fountainbloomers seemed to be quite pleased with Toast’s partner and told him to invite him over for dinner at some point. Though Toast may have said yes so that his parents kept quiet, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to do this to the dwarf. Maybe when they knew each other a little better he would put forward Tilbi’s request of Darrik joining them for dinner but not straight away. After all, the Fountainbloomers were a particular brand of gnome. Not that Pinky was all that normal but Darrik had only met her briefly so far; and Toast himself was fairly normal – or at least he considered himself to be so. Maybe he shouldn’t tell his partner though that his newest invention was a sewer launcher to evacuate the slush from the sewers towards the outside. He might not be so pleased about the notion as it involved quite a bit of the foul-smelling mess. Either way, some day, if Darrik and him continued to get along well, he would invite him over; but definitely not without warning him about the various family members first. He could not bear to invite someone without decent explanation on how crazy his family was. With a grin on his face when imagining Darrik being confronted with Petal and Button, Toast dragged himself to bed. The day had been quite a bit longer than expected and taken quite its toll on Toast despite the gnome being used to crawling through the sewers for days on end.
Nobody was at home, which suited Toast just fine as he rummaged through his workshop in search of a few flash-tubes to provide some light in the sewers. He wasn’t sure he was ready yet to be bombarded by questions about the new job just yet. It seemed to be almost too new to say anything about. At least, he liked his partner, even if the job was a little odd.
As soon as his backpack was filled with all the little accessories he might need on his trip into the sewers, he made his way to the next street over where Spike Fiddlesticks was living. With high hopes about his friend’s observation system, Toast didn’t bother with knocking but simply went round back and slipped in through the door leading down into the cellar. If Toast was used to working in the sewers, Spike was even more so. His whole life was based around the sewers and he even worked in a dark cellar with barely any light.
“You’re never going to get a girl if you don’t go outside from time to time,” Toast joked by way of greeting. Spike looked up from the pile of clock wheels in front of him and raised a questioning eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Toast replied. “I need your help.”
Nodding, Spike motioned for Toast to take a seat as he put all the scattered wheels back into the pile and shoved it slightly forwards on the huge work bench in order to make himself some room. His small eyes, which always reminded Toast of a mole’s, blinked at his friend. “What is it you need? The observation system, isn’t it? I knew it would come in handy some day! You know, that was exactly the reason why I designed it in the first place. To revolutionise the sewers! I’m telling you, I will be famous for this creation!”
Toast could only nod along in enthusiasm, not even realising that Spike sounded like a slightly exaggerated version of himself when it came to boasting about inventions. Spike just took it a step further and was gesticulating like a madman while practically jumping up and down in his seat. “Here, have a look,” he invited Toast. “I have made a few small modifications. You’ll see, it’s much better this way!” All the while, the gnome was rummaging around the many materials and inventions on his work bench, pulling out several similar pieces.
“See these things here?” Spike asked but continued without waiting for Toast’s reply. The latter quite simply shuffled closer with his stool and intently studied whatever Spike was pointing at and shoving into his face for inspection. “I decided to change the whole system again because the previous model didn’t work, at all. Now, I may not yet have tested this one, but I am absolutely positive that it will work! You see these little windows in the thing? I have wired them to…”
For at least half an hour, Spike went on to explain and describe his invention in the most minute detail and all the while Toast kept wondering why he hadn’t though of something like that, or if he could borrow the general idea to fix his latest creation somehow, of course in cooperation with Spike in that case – a second brain on that thing might produce wonders.
The essential thing about the observation system was that Spike created a sort of mechanical bug that would monitor movement. A bulb on the inside of the small device would light if motion was detected and thus alert the owner to a presence. Of course, the bulb could only be checked by opening the top so as not to scare any visitors away.
“So, basically, even if the system works without a problem, I still won’t know who actually passed through the sewers in the middle of the night?” Toast asked, just to be sure he had understood it all.
“Well, no,” Spike admitted reluctantly. “But at least you will know if someone was there? Practically no gnome is in the sewers at night. Heck, nobody is probably in the sewers at night apart from rats, and isn’t that exactly whom you want to capture?”
“I guess,” Toast replied as he mulled all of this over. “Let’s just give it a try. If we don’t achieve the desired result, we can always work out something else. How many of those bugs you have?”
Spike rummaged around on his work space for a few minutes longer before pulling out a smaller one, who had hidden beneath a pile of materials. “I’ve got six now. That should be enough for the time being, right? At least it will cover the main entries.” Toast voiced his agreement and after they had carefully packed up all the things they needed for Operation: Sewers, Spike and Toast instantly headed down into the smelly night.
While they were wading through the sewers in an attempt to find the most suitable spots to put up Spike’s observation system so that the doorways were in full view of the bug, Toast noticed that there were no unusual rat droppings nowhere. It may not have been his favourite pastime while being in the sewers to keep an eye on excrement but he couldn’t help but notice. For the unusually large rats they were trying to uncover, there would most likely have to be either an unusual amount of normal droppings, or quite larger droppings – neither was the case.
“Tomorrow morning, alright? I’ll come along to help you check out the findings. Just pick me up whenever you’re ready, I probably won’t be sleeping anyway. Here’s hoping the system will work!” Spike beamed at Toast, his whole expression hopeful but at the same time certain that they were going to find something at least.
“Don’t get your hopes up about the rats, but at least I hope that we can manage to proof that your system is working just fine!” Toast countered. He was almost certain that they weren’t going to make any observations that night, but one could always hope!
The remainder of the night passed fairly quietly for Toast apart from being drilled by his parents about the new job. His sisters feigned disinterest before disappearing for a night out with their group of girlfriends. All the better, in Toast’s opinion. As much as he loved Petal and Button, he was always glad when he had a bit of a break from their blabbering. It was the only reason he would even consider moving out, but it would be too much hassle to clear out all his things and he had his own place afterall, just fairly close to home.
Tilbi and Sprocket soon enough understood however that Toast couldn’t tell them much about the job because it had only been a day. Plus, he could really tell them everything about an ongoing investigation, it simply wouldn’t do and he didn’t want to risk it being leaked to his superiors that he was discussing his business with his family. Thus, he could not really give them many details apart from telling them about Darrik.
Sure enough, the Fountainbloomers seemed to be quite pleased with Toast’s partner and told him to invite him over for dinner at some point. Though Toast may have said yes so that his parents kept quiet, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to do this to the dwarf. Maybe when they knew each other a little better he would put forward Tilbi’s request of Darrik joining them for dinner but not straight away. After all, the Fountainbloomers were a particular brand of gnome. Not that Pinky was all that normal but Darrik had only met her briefly so far; and Toast himself was fairly normal – or at least he considered himself to be so. Maybe he shouldn’t tell his partner though that his newest invention was a sewer launcher to evacuate the slush from the sewers towards the outside. He might not be so pleased about the notion as it involved quite a bit of the foul-smelling mess. Either way, some day, if Darrik and him continued to get along well, he would invite him over; but definitely not without warning him about the various family members first. He could not bear to invite someone without decent explanation on how crazy his family was. With a grin on his face when imagining Darrik being confronted with Petal and Button, Toast dragged himself to bed. The day had been quite a bit longer than expected and taken quite its toll on Toast despite the gnome being used to crawling through the sewers for days on end.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
As the ground crunched beneath the dwarf's even stride, Darrik went over what he knew from the report on Hyacinth's attack. The bloke who'd reported it, Pyotr, was just another down-on-his-luck labourer, one of many in the city. The guard who'd taken his report had noted Pyotr was occasionally seen at the Bitch's Bite of nights and Darrik happened to know that this Pyotr was fond of the whores in old city. It wasn't the first time the dwarven guard had crossed paths with the reprehensible individual: Pyotr had once attempted to have a pimp arrested after getting beaten to a pulp. As Darrik recalled, it was a whore's testimony that he'd been stalking her and other girls which resulted in the guard tossing the man out on his ear. Which might go some way to explain why Pyotr happened to be present when the attack on Hyacinth happened. For a moment, Darrik contemplated the possibility of Pyotr being a murderer lying about the rats to cover his crime, but the dwarf's memory of Pyotr as a cringing spineless man with a stammer caused Darrik to discard the notion swiftly. The Pyotr he'd come across wouldn't have the stones for murder.
A perfunctory visit to the Bitch's Bite satisfied Darrik's curiosity that the man wasn't sleeping off a drinking session there. A visit to the man's last known employer ascertained that Pyotr had been fired a month ago for being 'a lazy and useless sonuvabitch'. The foreman had no idea who'd hire one of life's washups, but it 'wouldn't be anyone working on wall repairs, that's for sure'. As so often was the case, Darrik wished he could get another witness with a stable lifestyle and predictable habits. Maybe finding Tomas at home the previous day had created an unrealistic expectation for him, but the dwarf was getting a wee bit tired of traipsing around the industrial and historic districts looking for scum like Pyotr.
By the time the sun had descended from its zenith, and afternoon was well underway, Darrik had canvassed most of the drinking shacks in the historic ruins and been to the worksites nearest to the historic ruins. The best he'd achieved was someone confirming they'd seen him 'a few days ago, drinking enough to fill a bucket'. Which proved to be as useful as holes in a boat's hull. There was nothing for it, Darrik decided. He'd have to find out what else had come in, report-wise, in the past couple of weeks. One of the clerks owed him a favour and, if Jack was out, Darrik'd have wit-free access to the recent archives.
Jack was not out. Jack was very much in. Even worse, when the dwarf's course took him past the despatch room, the sergeant proved to be of a mind for a chat."Darrik me old son, I can imagine you're short on time, but step into my office if you'd indulge a superior officer's whim." Within moments Darrik was once more in the presence of Jack's benevolent-dictator smile. As always, Darrik's salute was snappy, and the dwarf waited to let Sergeant Iron speak first. Jack never disappointed in that regard, and Darrik watched Jack's face carefully for any hints as to what the sergeant's genuine internal disposition might be beneath that one-smile-fit all expression Jack liked to practice.
"Paint me curious, Darrik, but I hadn't quite expected to see you back here so soon, and without young Fitzgerald to heel at that. You're not a shirker, I know, you dwarves tend to be like the waterwheel in that regard. Always working." Darrik was wary. That had sounded suspiciously like a compliment, but something in it felt like a set up for something else. "Which is why I'm wondering why you're here." Jack's gaze was piercing above his innocuously pleasant smile.
Well, there was nothing to lose, and Darrik needed information at any rate. Part of Jack's dubious charm was the sharper intelligence behind a pointed wit. "Fact is, Sarge, I'm here to cross-reference on other recent reports coming out of old city. Been a couple of unusual little details crop up in the course o'chatting with the shantytown locals, and I wanted to see if any of the sods have been scared enough to come report it to us." Jack raised his eyebrows theatrically "Oh my, and in such a short time." In a quieter tone, Jack added "Ask away, Darrik, I might just have seen something come across my desk."
This was new to the dwarf. Jack wasn't a complete arsehole, compared to others, but he'd never volunteered assistance to Darrik before. Sergeant Iron was typically content assigning work and amusing himself with height jokes. Add to that the sudden drop in volume to the sergeant's voice: normally Jack liked an audience, and relied on the acoustics of the room sharing his fun with others. Darrik's mind flashed back to his conversation with Toast the night before, and the untested theory of conflicting influences within the Guard's HQ. Darrik took the chance that his thoughts on Jack had been correct. Lowering his voice as well, he replied "That'd be much appreciated Sarge. Here it is, then." Darrik briefly outlined what they'd worked out, fact-wise, and added in some of the speculations regarding the sewers, the albino as a likely shifter, the possibility of Caleb's assault being more than initially appeared, the fear shown by Lazar, and the as-yet unknown whereabouts of Pyotr. Throughout, Darrik maintained his careful surveillance of Jack's expression, hoping for some sign or tell.
It was almost imperceptible, but Darrik's watchfulness was rewarded: mention of the shifter and Caleb earned a slight tension to the edges of Jack's smile and a momentary glint of something different in the man's eyes. It wasn't enough for Darrik to even guess at what the sergeant was thinking, but now the dwarf knew his sergeant knew something about the case in hand. It might not have just been a 'job to keep the dwarf in the shit' after all. Jack's verbal response though, almost caused Darrik to doubt what he had seen. The sergeant, returning to his normal volume, chuckled "You know what they say, Darrik my son: ask someone in Shantytown what colour the sky is, and you'll still need to look up to make sure they aren't lying. Still, I am very glad that our civilian adjunct and sewer specialist is proving to be of assistance. I am sure this will keep the rest of the little malcontents happy enough to leave us be with their social equality prattle, eh?" But even as he was saying exactly the right words to make Darrik's beard bristle in irritation, the sergeant was carefully pulling out some papers from near the bottom of his caltrop-protected in-tray. Jack placed them on the edge of his desk, and made a point of tapping them twice. "Now, while it has been enjoyable obtaining your assistance in procrastinating on these reports, Darrik, if you are to reach the heights of success in this matter, you'd best be on your way"
Jack's eyes flicked towards the papers he'd removed as he tapped them one more time. Darrik, knowing a cue when he saw one, stepped forward, and took them as he stated "Right you are Sarge. I'll get back to picking up me equipment then." Darrik folded the papers and tucked them in a pouch before leaving the office. This was a three pint problem, no questions asked, but he'd wait until he caught up with Toast at the Rusty Wheel before he got started. Instead of continuing what would be a futile search for Pyotr, Darrik stopped by his room, and removed his armour once more. A wash and change of clothes later had Darrik back in more casual attire and a mood better suited for contemplation. Darrik would never be a trend-setter of the fashion world. Preferring clothing of a sturdy woollen weave, the dwarf tended to wear trousers dyed a dark brown and shirts dyed in shades of green. Largely because those dyes, and the clothes dyed by them, cost less to produce.
Using his bed as a seat, Darrik went through the paperwork Jack had produced for him. At the top of the small pile were the reports from the Guards' investigation into Hyacinth's pimp on the suspicion of heroin dealing. It had been mostly inconclusive, and the case had been closed down and pinned on the first sod they'd found with a stash of horrible substance. It struck Darrik as a bit too convenient, but he knew that sometimes it was hard to crowbar open a drug ring. At least one dealer had been taken off the street, though they hadn't got any further than that. Still, the list of all the people who'd been watched or questioned might come in handy for looking into Hyacinth.
It was the rest of the papers which caused Darrik to furrow his brow and tug at his beard. More and more, Darrik wished he knew just what kind of damn game the sergeant was playing. Jack had provided him with several reports on minor robberies, two unsolved murders, and another dozen unwitnessed disappearances. All of the paperwork had been marked for closure, so what had they been doing in Jack's in-tray to begin with? Darrik grated his teeth. He wasn't a stupid dwarf, by any means, but his mind just wasn't constructed to deal comfortably with the serpentine twists of logic Jack seemed to enjoy so much. It wasn't a case of adding to Darrik's workload, at least. That much was clear from the little stamps marking each report as having been closed off and from Jack's cloak-and-dagger method of passing them over. Obviously Jack thought them important enough to keep in a spot close to hand where he could access them instantly.
With a wry smile, Darrik wondered what kind of conspiracy Toast could spin out of this unusual turn of affairs. Honestly, at this point, he'd almost prefer to be out clobbering some poor drunkard for disturbing the peace. There'd be less risk of his hair turning prematurely white, that was for blimmin' sure. Darrik spent the next hour going through the reports, trying to figure out just what was going on in Jack's head. It wasn't much use, though. Poor sleep and a wasted day were taking its toll on the dwarf's concentration. Eventually, Darrik gave up, and focused instead of memorising the basic facts in the hope he'd figure something out later. By the time Darrik made his way in civilian attire to the Rusty Wheel he'd almost given himself a headache. Dinner and three pints were something the dwarf was most definitely looking forward to.
A perfunctory visit to the Bitch's Bite satisfied Darrik's curiosity that the man wasn't sleeping off a drinking session there. A visit to the man's last known employer ascertained that Pyotr had been fired a month ago for being 'a lazy and useless sonuvabitch'. The foreman had no idea who'd hire one of life's washups, but it 'wouldn't be anyone working on wall repairs, that's for sure'. As so often was the case, Darrik wished he could get another witness with a stable lifestyle and predictable habits. Maybe finding Tomas at home the previous day had created an unrealistic expectation for him, but the dwarf was getting a wee bit tired of traipsing around the industrial and historic districts looking for scum like Pyotr.
By the time the sun had descended from its zenith, and afternoon was well underway, Darrik had canvassed most of the drinking shacks in the historic ruins and been to the worksites nearest to the historic ruins. The best he'd achieved was someone confirming they'd seen him 'a few days ago, drinking enough to fill a bucket'. Which proved to be as useful as holes in a boat's hull. There was nothing for it, Darrik decided. He'd have to find out what else had come in, report-wise, in the past couple of weeks. One of the clerks owed him a favour and, if Jack was out, Darrik'd have wit-free access to the recent archives.
Jack was not out. Jack was very much in. Even worse, when the dwarf's course took him past the despatch room, the sergeant proved to be of a mind for a chat."Darrik me old son, I can imagine you're short on time, but step into my office if you'd indulge a superior officer's whim." Within moments Darrik was once more in the presence of Jack's benevolent-dictator smile. As always, Darrik's salute was snappy, and the dwarf waited to let Sergeant Iron speak first. Jack never disappointed in that regard, and Darrik watched Jack's face carefully for any hints as to what the sergeant's genuine internal disposition might be beneath that one-smile-fit all expression Jack liked to practice.
"Paint me curious, Darrik, but I hadn't quite expected to see you back here so soon, and without young Fitzgerald to heel at that. You're not a shirker, I know, you dwarves tend to be like the waterwheel in that regard. Always working." Darrik was wary. That had sounded suspiciously like a compliment, but something in it felt like a set up for something else. "Which is why I'm wondering why you're here." Jack's gaze was piercing above his innocuously pleasant smile.
Well, there was nothing to lose, and Darrik needed information at any rate. Part of Jack's dubious charm was the sharper intelligence behind a pointed wit. "Fact is, Sarge, I'm here to cross-reference on other recent reports coming out of old city. Been a couple of unusual little details crop up in the course o'chatting with the shantytown locals, and I wanted to see if any of the sods have been scared enough to come report it to us." Jack raised his eyebrows theatrically "Oh my, and in such a short time." In a quieter tone, Jack added "Ask away, Darrik, I might just have seen something come across my desk."
This was new to the dwarf. Jack wasn't a complete arsehole, compared to others, but he'd never volunteered assistance to Darrik before. Sergeant Iron was typically content assigning work and amusing himself with height jokes. Add to that the sudden drop in volume to the sergeant's voice: normally Jack liked an audience, and relied on the acoustics of the room sharing his fun with others. Darrik's mind flashed back to his conversation with Toast the night before, and the untested theory of conflicting influences within the Guard's HQ. Darrik took the chance that his thoughts on Jack had been correct. Lowering his voice as well, he replied "That'd be much appreciated Sarge. Here it is, then." Darrik briefly outlined what they'd worked out, fact-wise, and added in some of the speculations regarding the sewers, the albino as a likely shifter, the possibility of Caleb's assault being more than initially appeared, the fear shown by Lazar, and the as-yet unknown whereabouts of Pyotr. Throughout, Darrik maintained his careful surveillance of Jack's expression, hoping for some sign or tell.
It was almost imperceptible, but Darrik's watchfulness was rewarded: mention of the shifter and Caleb earned a slight tension to the edges of Jack's smile and a momentary glint of something different in the man's eyes. It wasn't enough for Darrik to even guess at what the sergeant was thinking, but now the dwarf knew his sergeant knew something about the case in hand. It might not have just been a 'job to keep the dwarf in the shit' after all. Jack's verbal response though, almost caused Darrik to doubt what he had seen. The sergeant, returning to his normal volume, chuckled "You know what they say, Darrik my son: ask someone in Shantytown what colour the sky is, and you'll still need to look up to make sure they aren't lying. Still, I am very glad that our civilian adjunct and sewer specialist is proving to be of assistance. I am sure this will keep the rest of the little malcontents happy enough to leave us be with their social equality prattle, eh?" But even as he was saying exactly the right words to make Darrik's beard bristle in irritation, the sergeant was carefully pulling out some papers from near the bottom of his caltrop-protected in-tray. Jack placed them on the edge of his desk, and made a point of tapping them twice. "Now, while it has been enjoyable obtaining your assistance in procrastinating on these reports, Darrik, if you are to reach the heights of success in this matter, you'd best be on your way"
Jack's eyes flicked towards the papers he'd removed as he tapped them one more time. Darrik, knowing a cue when he saw one, stepped forward, and took them as he stated "Right you are Sarge. I'll get back to picking up me equipment then." Darrik folded the papers and tucked them in a pouch before leaving the office. This was a three pint problem, no questions asked, but he'd wait until he caught up with Toast at the Rusty Wheel before he got started. Instead of continuing what would be a futile search for Pyotr, Darrik stopped by his room, and removed his armour once more. A wash and change of clothes later had Darrik back in more casual attire and a mood better suited for contemplation. Darrik would never be a trend-setter of the fashion world. Preferring clothing of a sturdy woollen weave, the dwarf tended to wear trousers dyed a dark brown and shirts dyed in shades of green. Largely because those dyes, and the clothes dyed by them, cost less to produce.
Using his bed as a seat, Darrik went through the paperwork Jack had produced for him. At the top of the small pile were the reports from the Guards' investigation into Hyacinth's pimp on the suspicion of heroin dealing. It had been mostly inconclusive, and the case had been closed down and pinned on the first sod they'd found with a stash of horrible substance. It struck Darrik as a bit too convenient, but he knew that sometimes it was hard to crowbar open a drug ring. At least one dealer had been taken off the street, though they hadn't got any further than that. Still, the list of all the people who'd been watched or questioned might come in handy for looking into Hyacinth.
It was the rest of the papers which caused Darrik to furrow his brow and tug at his beard. More and more, Darrik wished he knew just what kind of damn game the sergeant was playing. Jack had provided him with several reports on minor robberies, two unsolved murders, and another dozen unwitnessed disappearances. All of the paperwork had been marked for closure, so what had they been doing in Jack's in-tray to begin with? Darrik grated his teeth. He wasn't a stupid dwarf, by any means, but his mind just wasn't constructed to deal comfortably with the serpentine twists of logic Jack seemed to enjoy so much. It wasn't a case of adding to Darrik's workload, at least. That much was clear from the little stamps marking each report as having been closed off and from Jack's cloak-and-dagger method of passing them over. Obviously Jack thought them important enough to keep in a spot close to hand where he could access them instantly.
With a wry smile, Darrik wondered what kind of conspiracy Toast could spin out of this unusual turn of affairs. Honestly, at this point, he'd almost prefer to be out clobbering some poor drunkard for disturbing the peace. There'd be less risk of his hair turning prematurely white, that was for blimmin' sure. Darrik spent the next hour going through the reports, trying to figure out just what was going on in Jack's head. It wasn't much use, though. Poor sleep and a wasted day were taking its toll on the dwarf's concentration. Eventually, Darrik gave up, and focused instead of memorising the basic facts in the hope he'd figure something out later. By the time Darrik made his way in civilian attire to the Rusty Wheel he'd almost given himself a headache. Dinner and three pints were something the dwarf was most definitely looking forward to.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
“I hate the sewers,” Spike complained when they hadn’t even gone into the tunnels yet.
“For a gnome working almost exclusively on sewer systems, that seems rather odd,” Toast countered, not properly registering the complaint.
“But the smell!” Spike pinched his nose as he was getting used to it again, trying to breathe evenly before finally stepping through the door and into the sewers. “Oh.. right. That.” Toast looked at his friend a little sheepishly, shrugging. Sometimes he forgot that other people’s sense of smell was still completely intact, whereas he barely noticed the stench anymore. Once they were both in through the side door, they instantly made use of Toast’s flashy tubes to light their way and headed towards the first entrance where they had left a robot.
“And you really think this worked?” Despite all of Spike’s reassurances, Toast was still not quite sure whether this observation system really was going to do the trick. Even so, he knew that he would at least sort of help his friend in developing it if this should turn out to have been a complete fail. Ever since he had woken up that morning, he hadn’t stopped thinking about this, hoping against better judgement that the system would bring some sort of great revelation, and he had thus ignored his own advice of not getting his hopes up about finding some clues on the mysterious rats.
As they made their way through the sewers, Spike was happily chattering away about several inventions he had recently been working on, none of which Toast actually heard. He heard the voice and knew that Spike would be pleased as long as he could tell him all about it, but the gnome didn’t actually listen to his friend. Instead, he was going over the facts of the investigation over and over again. Something about it all bugged him terribly but he couldn’t pinpoint it. Or maybe he just wanted there to be an extra clue they had overlooked until now so they could move forwards. Of course, it had only been a day, he really shouldn’t expect to have brilliant results after just one day already.
After the initial disappointment of the first two robots not having picked up anything, Toast was back on track and with his silly hopes in check. Spike however was starting to worry about his system, thinking that it wasn’t working.
“No, no, it’s fine!” Toast tried to soothe him. “I’m sure it isn’t the system but simply a lack of activity. After all, I did tell you not to get your hopes up too much.” The small reprimand was as much for Spike’s benefit as his own, since he himself had so gloriously ignored it.
Without high hopes for their next stop, Spike suddenly called out in surprise when he opened the robot to check inside. “Someone was here! Someone was actually here! See? The bulb is lighted! It worked! It bloody worked!”
“What? Really? Show me!” Toast instantly huddled next to Spike trying to get a good look at the thing but other than the lightbulb there wasn’t much to see. In his excitement, he had completely forgotten that this was all the system did. Light a bulb in case someone was observed passing by. “And there is no way to tell who this was, right?” Toast asked, just to make sure that he had understood it all the previous day.
“Sadly no, but that is the part I’m working on. At least now you know that someone passed through her in the middle of the night, and I’m sure it wasn’t a gnome. So none of us, and still passage. That means some sort of activity happened in this place, which is one of the entryways you wanted to keep an eye on, so it must be kind of a hint, no?”
Spike looked at Toast with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, which was only barely visible in the light of the flashy tubes but it was there nonetheless. It was indeed an interesting piece of information even if it could mean a million different things. “Yes, yes it is. Your system did well!” Not as well as he had hoped but good enough for the time being, and he really, really had to keep reminding himself that there was nothing more to be expected either way.
In a sudden rush of excitement, they hurried towards the last robot after having put the third one back in place, but alas, there was nothing on that one, just like on the first two. Not that the third one had been an overwhelming discovery but it had at least been something, which was always better than a big fat nothing.
“I will keep an eye on them over the course of the next few days,” Spike promised eagerly. “And I will of course let you know instantly if I found something.”
Toast nodded, smiling at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Spike. And I hope this is going to work. At least now you have a bit of an idea of what you can still work out and I’m sure your next try at the observation system will have fantastic results!” He wasn’t even lying. Spike was good, really good, and if there was a way to get this thing working the way Spike imagined it to, then he would manage to get it done, even if it did take a few more years, but it would be done.
After lots more bantering on their way back out of the sewers, Toast parted ways with Spike with promises to go out for a round of drinks some time soon. The next thing to do on his list was talk to some more members of his acquaintances, those he could trust to really keep an eye out and keep things quiet as well. He had already spoken to his parents the night before as well as his sisters – as annoying as they were, they wouldn’t betray him with this sort of thing. A broken bottle of his mother’s favourite perfume, now that was a different story entirely.
“And you’re sure you haven’t seen any of them?” Toast asked for the hundredth time but so far all the replies had been the same, always no.
“Well, not really seen as such. I’ve heard about them and I’ve heard them themselves, I think. The scratching of the claws on the walls and such sounded much louder than that of normal rats, and we both know that we all spend enough time down there to know the difference.” Toast eagerly listened, a glint in his eyes but he didn’t interrupt. That much he had learned from Darrik, and with acquaintances this generally worked better anyways than if he had to communicate with strangers. “But seen, no. I mean, I thought at some point that I saw a flash of something white but I can’t really be sure. And at the time I was certain that it just been a sort of hallucination since I was a little, well very, sleep-deprived. You know that new order of all those vents needing immediate replacement, it’s taking quite a toll on all of us. It is so much more work then they all seem to realise! But yes, just send the little ones in, they’ll take care of it. Whatever.”
“I know, it’s disgraceful!” Toast chimed in, if only to keep Padlock happy. “And you’re absolutely certain that is all you can remember and that you really aren’t sure anymore?” Padlock just gave him a level stare that bordered on annoyance seeing that Toast had been sort of on a loop with this for a few minutes now.
“Alright, fine,” Toast lifted his hands in an innocent gesture. “Will you let me know if you hear or see anything else, please?”
“Sure thing, and if you get a chance to talk to your old man about assigning us a few more workers for those vents…”
“I’ll talk to him as soon as I see him!” Sprocket may not always have been the brightest bulb of the lot but he was a really nice fellow and he wouldn’t harm a fly. He was also too kind to ever say no to something, which was why he had ended up doing the largest part of the vent-changing by himself. Sometimes Toast felt sorry for the somewhat older gnome, but if a life time of experience could not explain to Padlock that he needed to change his ways a little if he didn’t want to be taken advantage of, then Toast’s measly words wouldn’t change a thing either.
The afternoon had passed much quicker than Toast had thought and as it was, he had to hurry to the Rusty Wheel to be on time for his meeting with Darrik. He didn’t particularly want to be late for this, not wanting to make a bad impression on the first time left alone to do his part of the job. He did have a bit of time to hurry home and take a brief shower, this time not forgetting that other people’s nose were rather sensitive to the stench of sewer.
Thus, he arrived at the Rusty Wheel, clean and punctual, taking a seat at their appointed table, waving at Pink as she brought over two mugs just as Darrik entered the front door as well. “As if you’d known he was just about to enter,” Toast laughed, to which Pink only smiled mischievously.
“For a gnome working almost exclusively on sewer systems, that seems rather odd,” Toast countered, not properly registering the complaint.
“But the smell!” Spike pinched his nose as he was getting used to it again, trying to breathe evenly before finally stepping through the door and into the sewers. “Oh.. right. That.” Toast looked at his friend a little sheepishly, shrugging. Sometimes he forgot that other people’s sense of smell was still completely intact, whereas he barely noticed the stench anymore. Once they were both in through the side door, they instantly made use of Toast’s flashy tubes to light their way and headed towards the first entrance where they had left a robot.
“And you really think this worked?” Despite all of Spike’s reassurances, Toast was still not quite sure whether this observation system really was going to do the trick. Even so, he knew that he would at least sort of help his friend in developing it if this should turn out to have been a complete fail. Ever since he had woken up that morning, he hadn’t stopped thinking about this, hoping against better judgement that the system would bring some sort of great revelation, and he had thus ignored his own advice of not getting his hopes up about finding some clues on the mysterious rats.
As they made their way through the sewers, Spike was happily chattering away about several inventions he had recently been working on, none of which Toast actually heard. He heard the voice and knew that Spike would be pleased as long as he could tell him all about it, but the gnome didn’t actually listen to his friend. Instead, he was going over the facts of the investigation over and over again. Something about it all bugged him terribly but he couldn’t pinpoint it. Or maybe he just wanted there to be an extra clue they had overlooked until now so they could move forwards. Of course, it had only been a day, he really shouldn’t expect to have brilliant results after just one day already.
After the initial disappointment of the first two robots not having picked up anything, Toast was back on track and with his silly hopes in check. Spike however was starting to worry about his system, thinking that it wasn’t working.
“No, no, it’s fine!” Toast tried to soothe him. “I’m sure it isn’t the system but simply a lack of activity. After all, I did tell you not to get your hopes up too much.” The small reprimand was as much for Spike’s benefit as his own, since he himself had so gloriously ignored it.
Without high hopes for their next stop, Spike suddenly called out in surprise when he opened the robot to check inside. “Someone was here! Someone was actually here! See? The bulb is lighted! It worked! It bloody worked!”
“What? Really? Show me!” Toast instantly huddled next to Spike trying to get a good look at the thing but other than the lightbulb there wasn’t much to see. In his excitement, he had completely forgotten that this was all the system did. Light a bulb in case someone was observed passing by. “And there is no way to tell who this was, right?” Toast asked, just to make sure that he had understood it all the previous day.
“Sadly no, but that is the part I’m working on. At least now you know that someone passed through her in the middle of the night, and I’m sure it wasn’t a gnome. So none of us, and still passage. That means some sort of activity happened in this place, which is one of the entryways you wanted to keep an eye on, so it must be kind of a hint, no?”
Spike looked at Toast with a hopeful gleam in his eyes, which was only barely visible in the light of the flashy tubes but it was there nonetheless. It was indeed an interesting piece of information even if it could mean a million different things. “Yes, yes it is. Your system did well!” Not as well as he had hoped but good enough for the time being, and he really, really had to keep reminding himself that there was nothing more to be expected either way.
In a sudden rush of excitement, they hurried towards the last robot after having put the third one back in place, but alas, there was nothing on that one, just like on the first two. Not that the third one had been an overwhelming discovery but it had at least been something, which was always better than a big fat nothing.
“I will keep an eye on them over the course of the next few days,” Spike promised eagerly. “And I will of course let you know instantly if I found something.”
Toast nodded, smiling at his friend. “Thanks a lot, Spike. And I hope this is going to work. At least now you have a bit of an idea of what you can still work out and I’m sure your next try at the observation system will have fantastic results!” He wasn’t even lying. Spike was good, really good, and if there was a way to get this thing working the way Spike imagined it to, then he would manage to get it done, even if it did take a few more years, but it would be done.
After lots more bantering on their way back out of the sewers, Toast parted ways with Spike with promises to go out for a round of drinks some time soon. The next thing to do on his list was talk to some more members of his acquaintances, those he could trust to really keep an eye out and keep things quiet as well. He had already spoken to his parents the night before as well as his sisters – as annoying as they were, they wouldn’t betray him with this sort of thing. A broken bottle of his mother’s favourite perfume, now that was a different story entirely.
“And you’re sure you haven’t seen any of them?” Toast asked for the hundredth time but so far all the replies had been the same, always no.
“Well, not really seen as such. I’ve heard about them and I’ve heard them themselves, I think. The scratching of the claws on the walls and such sounded much louder than that of normal rats, and we both know that we all spend enough time down there to know the difference.” Toast eagerly listened, a glint in his eyes but he didn’t interrupt. That much he had learned from Darrik, and with acquaintances this generally worked better anyways than if he had to communicate with strangers. “But seen, no. I mean, I thought at some point that I saw a flash of something white but I can’t really be sure. And at the time I was certain that it just been a sort of hallucination since I was a little, well very, sleep-deprived. You know that new order of all those vents needing immediate replacement, it’s taking quite a toll on all of us. It is so much more work then they all seem to realise! But yes, just send the little ones in, they’ll take care of it. Whatever.”
“I know, it’s disgraceful!” Toast chimed in, if only to keep Padlock happy. “And you’re absolutely certain that is all you can remember and that you really aren’t sure anymore?” Padlock just gave him a level stare that bordered on annoyance seeing that Toast had been sort of on a loop with this for a few minutes now.
“Alright, fine,” Toast lifted his hands in an innocent gesture. “Will you let me know if you hear or see anything else, please?”
“Sure thing, and if you get a chance to talk to your old man about assigning us a few more workers for those vents…”
“I’ll talk to him as soon as I see him!” Sprocket may not always have been the brightest bulb of the lot but he was a really nice fellow and he wouldn’t harm a fly. He was also too kind to ever say no to something, which was why he had ended up doing the largest part of the vent-changing by himself. Sometimes Toast felt sorry for the somewhat older gnome, but if a life time of experience could not explain to Padlock that he needed to change his ways a little if he didn’t want to be taken advantage of, then Toast’s measly words wouldn’t change a thing either.
The afternoon had passed much quicker than Toast had thought and as it was, he had to hurry to the Rusty Wheel to be on time for his meeting with Darrik. He didn’t particularly want to be late for this, not wanting to make a bad impression on the first time left alone to do his part of the job. He did have a bit of time to hurry home and take a brief shower, this time not forgetting that other people’s nose were rather sensitive to the stench of sewer.
Thus, he arrived at the Rusty Wheel, clean and punctual, taking a seat at their appointed table, waving at Pink as she brought over two mugs just as Darrik entered the front door as well. “As if you’d known he was just about to enter,” Toast laughed, to which Pink only smiled mischievously.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik clomped into the Rusty Wheel, the measured stride of the guard remaining despite civilian attire, and flicked a lazy salute and smile in the direction of Pink and Toast. In truth, it had been a while since Darrik had bothered with a social engagement, even if this was part work. "Here I am, and with a beer already awaiting me, no less. Service this blimmin' good, how can I not return? Cheers Pink, you've made me evening already." Darrik settled into a chair. "And before you go, love, for dinner I'll have another Rusty Wheel." If anything could remove the sour taste from the dwarf's mouth from the day and a half he'd had, it was the tavern's speciality dish. While Pink took Toast's order, Darrik enjoyed a large mouthful of the gnomish brew.
When the gnome waitress departed, Darrik commented "I'll save the full story for after dinner, Toast, but it has been a nuisance couple of days." The dwarf harrumphed in irritation "Things just get less sensical with each damn passing hour. And things which don't make sense put knots in me beard, I tell you." Darrik surreptitiously cast his gaze around the nearby patrons as he took another draft, keeping an eye out for any who might be paying the pair undue attention, before leaning in as he placed his tankard back down. "Jack was uncharacteristically helpful, today, which is enough to make me start preparing the epitaph for my obituary, I tell you. Sends a chill down my spine when that man volunteers information. Especially when it makes no damn sense. But that's a subject for after dinner. For now, let's keep our stomachs settled with a lighter pre-meal discourse, aye? Did I ever mention a bloke I knew a few decades back, name of Will...?"
Darrik rolled into a brief anecdote about a cartwright apprentice who, having gotten drunk in a heroic attempt to outdrink Darrik and his dwarven friends, attempted to avoid the inevitable hangover by continuing drinking. "...well, the silly bugger tried to put the final touches on a cart later that night - while still well marinaded, I might add - apparently so he could sleep in the thing, but forgot to properly connect the wheels. Of course, he also forgot to replace the damn supports as well, so the thing fell flat to the ground, wheels going everywhere, when he clambered up on it to have a little nap. His master found him still passed out next morning, woke the bloke up by banging two hammers together, and all the daft git could say was 'Did I win?" Darrik chuckled "We called him 'Will Cartwrong' after that. His master thumped the drinking right out of him, I reckon, because he made journeyman. Left Marn a long while back, Will did, said he wanted to travel to Eyropa. Me, I reckon he wanted to escape his nickname, because we never let him forget." Darrik would then give Toast the opportunity to natter away on whatever topic took the gnome's fancy, and otherwise indulged in light conversation until their meals arrived.
When the gnome waitress departed, Darrik commented "I'll save the full story for after dinner, Toast, but it has been a nuisance couple of days." The dwarf harrumphed in irritation "Things just get less sensical with each damn passing hour. And things which don't make sense put knots in me beard, I tell you." Darrik surreptitiously cast his gaze around the nearby patrons as he took another draft, keeping an eye out for any who might be paying the pair undue attention, before leaning in as he placed his tankard back down. "Jack was uncharacteristically helpful, today, which is enough to make me start preparing the epitaph for my obituary, I tell you. Sends a chill down my spine when that man volunteers information. Especially when it makes no damn sense. But that's a subject for after dinner. For now, let's keep our stomachs settled with a lighter pre-meal discourse, aye? Did I ever mention a bloke I knew a few decades back, name of Will...?"
Darrik rolled into a brief anecdote about a cartwright apprentice who, having gotten drunk in a heroic attempt to outdrink Darrik and his dwarven friends, attempted to avoid the inevitable hangover by continuing drinking. "...well, the silly bugger tried to put the final touches on a cart later that night - while still well marinaded, I might add - apparently so he could sleep in the thing, but forgot to properly connect the wheels. Of course, he also forgot to replace the damn supports as well, so the thing fell flat to the ground, wheels going everywhere, when he clambered up on it to have a little nap. His master found him still passed out next morning, woke the bloke up by banging two hammers together, and all the daft git could say was 'Did I win?" Darrik chuckled "We called him 'Will Cartwrong' after that. His master thumped the drinking right out of him, I reckon, because he made journeyman. Left Marn a long while back, Will did, said he wanted to travel to Eyropa. Me, I reckon he wanted to escape his nickname, because we never let him forget." Darrik would then give Toast the opportunity to natter away on whatever topic took the gnome's fancy, and otherwise indulged in light conversation until their meals arrived.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
It made quite the difference to see Darrik out of his guard’s uniform, but at the same time, there wasn’t that much of a difference after all. He was still imposing despite his small stature. When he ordered the same meal as the day before, Toast couldn’t help but grin. Indicating to Pink that he was going to take the same, he focused his attention back on Darrik, easily slipping into the same casual banter the dwarf was offering. It was a nice change from all the investigative work earlier in the day or the horrible chatter his sisters called a relaxing conversation.
At the mention of Jack Iron having been helpful, Toast’s eyebrows shot up into a completely unbelieving and almost shocked expression. By all means, he didn’t really know the man but from the little he had experienced with the sergeant, he hadn’t expected him to ever give the two of them anything for free. So either it was all an act or there was something else entirely behind this scheme. But as Darrik had said, a little time-out before the real reporting began was a well-earned break.
“Haha! He really did that?!” Toast laughed out loud at Darrik’s story, picturing the story the way the dwarf was painting it. “That is hilarious! People can be so immensely funny when they’re plastered!” And it was true, there was many an anecdote of drunken gnomes doing silly things as well but Toast was too distracted by the mention of Eyropa to be of any mind of narrating some of them. “I have never been outside Marn. Have you? Though travelling sounds like something I would really like to do some day. All the possibilities! All the ideas I could collect for future machinery I could, potential for inventions and the likes. Endless chances and routes to take... it sounds fantastic.”
Toast had always been somewhat reluctant to leave what he knew, but somehow his curiosity was suddenly sparked. Some day he would really take a long trip. It could really only benefit his work and a few new inventions, especially useful ones, would put him on the map. Everyone would want to buy from him and he would become famous all over Marn and even further than that. A dream come true... Recognition for his genius!
At the mention of Jack Iron having been helpful, Toast’s eyebrows shot up into a completely unbelieving and almost shocked expression. By all means, he didn’t really know the man but from the little he had experienced with the sergeant, he hadn’t expected him to ever give the two of them anything for free. So either it was all an act or there was something else entirely behind this scheme. But as Darrik had said, a little time-out before the real reporting began was a well-earned break.
“Haha! He really did that?!” Toast laughed out loud at Darrik’s story, picturing the story the way the dwarf was painting it. “That is hilarious! People can be so immensely funny when they’re plastered!” And it was true, there was many an anecdote of drunken gnomes doing silly things as well but Toast was too distracted by the mention of Eyropa to be of any mind of narrating some of them. “I have never been outside Marn. Have you? Though travelling sounds like something I would really like to do some day. All the possibilities! All the ideas I could collect for future machinery I could, potential for inventions and the likes. Endless chances and routes to take... it sounds fantastic.”
Toast had always been somewhat reluctant to leave what he knew, but somehow his curiosity was suddenly sparked. Some day he would really take a long trip. It could really only benefit his work and a few new inventions, especially useful ones, would put him on the map. Everyone would want to buy from him and he would become famous all over Marn and even further than that. A dream come true... Recognition for his genius!
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik chuckled. "No, I've not left Marn. In fact, would you believe it, but I've never even been as far - or as close, some might say - as Shim." The dwarf smiled inwardly at Toast's adventurous statements. It was a courage of a different sort, going travelling. "Honestly though, Toast, tromping off to parts unknown has never really appealed to me. My parents and I, we may not always see eye-to-eye, but on one thing we agree: Marn's the place for us. All them beasties and uncontrolled magics out there, well, my parents said it was pretty bad what they left behind when they came here. They won't talk about it in detail, mind, but I've no reason not t'take them at face value." The dwarf couldn't even imagine places where magic wasn't rigidly controlled. It seemed insane.
"Mind you, I suppose it isn't a party no matter where you are. My own job's proof enough of that, I guess. Yours too. Always some kind of mess to clean up." Darrik took a swig of his ale "But here in Marn my parents got me a proper occupation, and here in Marn I've been able to give young Henrik the same. No doubt some day he'll meet a dwarven lass with the right kind of spark in her eyes, and that'd eventually make me a grandfather." Darrik grinned "I'd like to be around to see that when the time comes. Spoil the kid rotten, and hear Henrik complain about never getting spoiled like that himself." Emptying his tankard, Darrik put in a request with Pink for another. "Yes, I've got reasons to stick around here, and an expectation of a long time doing so as well - as much as that may annoy the hell out of some of my fellow guards. I'll live to two centuries just to spite them"
The dwarf guard grinned "Imagine it in fifty years' time, if you will: some uppity new sergeant wanting to throw his weight around. I'm still a rank and file guard, of course, I know I ain't getting promoted. So this bloke decides to pick on the dwarf to show who's boss, and there will be me reminding him 'I've been a guard since before you were born'. Now, that would be a fine laugh" Darrik chuckled "And people complain about getting old. I don't get it."
Darrik's musings were cut short by the appearance of a new tankard, followed by two wheel-like dishes of steaming red-spiced vegetables and meat. Having learned his lesson the last time, the dwarf guard would be a bit more circumspect with regards to the speed at which he ate. Pink had also been kind enough to add some bread on the side. "Thank you muchly, Pink, that'll turn my day around like nothing else." Raising his tankard, Darrik said "To good food, company, and the amusing sight of me face turning bright red."
The dwarf would then get started. The shock of the spices were appreciated, helped offset the desire for sleep which had been nagging at him all day. At least this evening he'd get a proper night's sleep, Darrik hoped. It had been good to focus on work for pretty much the whole day. If there was one thing that Darrik liked about working a case for the Despatch office, it was that he could get away with working whatever damn hours he wanted, and just say he lost track of time. No such luck with regular patrol duty, and Darrik liked to keep himself busy at all times.
"Mind you, I suppose it isn't a party no matter where you are. My own job's proof enough of that, I guess. Yours too. Always some kind of mess to clean up." Darrik took a swig of his ale "But here in Marn my parents got me a proper occupation, and here in Marn I've been able to give young Henrik the same. No doubt some day he'll meet a dwarven lass with the right kind of spark in her eyes, and that'd eventually make me a grandfather." Darrik grinned "I'd like to be around to see that when the time comes. Spoil the kid rotten, and hear Henrik complain about never getting spoiled like that himself." Emptying his tankard, Darrik put in a request with Pink for another. "Yes, I've got reasons to stick around here, and an expectation of a long time doing so as well - as much as that may annoy the hell out of some of my fellow guards. I'll live to two centuries just to spite them"
The dwarf guard grinned "Imagine it in fifty years' time, if you will: some uppity new sergeant wanting to throw his weight around. I'm still a rank and file guard, of course, I know I ain't getting promoted. So this bloke decides to pick on the dwarf to show who's boss, and there will be me reminding him 'I've been a guard since before you were born'. Now, that would be a fine laugh" Darrik chuckled "And people complain about getting old. I don't get it."
Darrik's musings were cut short by the appearance of a new tankard, followed by two wheel-like dishes of steaming red-spiced vegetables and meat. Having learned his lesson the last time, the dwarf guard would be a bit more circumspect with regards to the speed at which he ate. Pink had also been kind enough to add some bread on the side. "Thank you muchly, Pink, that'll turn my day around like nothing else." Raising his tankard, Darrik said "To good food, company, and the amusing sight of me face turning bright red."
The dwarf would then get started. The shock of the spices were appreciated, helped offset the desire for sleep which had been nagging at him all day. At least this evening he'd get a proper night's sleep, Darrik hoped. It had been good to focus on work for pretty much the whole day. If there was one thing that Darrik liked about working a case for the Despatch office, it was that he could get away with working whatever damn hours he wanted, and just say he lost track of time. No such luck with regular patrol duty, and Darrik liked to keep himself busy at all times.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
“You can say that again,” Toast muttered in agreement. Life wasn’t always a bunch of cookies and flowers, especially not when you were part of a minority race such as dwarves and gnomes who always had to deal with racism of one kind or another. Or quite simply if Toast looked at the family business he was a part of – cleaning the sewers wasn’t the dream of everyone’s life and sometimes it was downright a pain, but, he still did like the job, and he was in the middle of a staggering invention on that front. But alas, his thoughts were drifting away again and Toast pulled himself back to the present situation.
“You know,” Toast grinned at his partner. “I could absolutely see you do that to a new sergeant.” He couldn’t help but laugh at Darrik’s words, the guard was painting such a lovely picture and Toast wasn’t one to tell anyone off for a little prank, especially one that didn’t really do any harm. And what was the harm in this? Not Darrik’s fault that he was born a dwarf and the City Guard had a stick up its behind in some respects.
When Pink arrived with the food, Toast took the opportunity to order another drink as well. He could hold his drink but he was nowhere near as quick as Darrik was. The waitress instantly brought the tankard around and Toast raised it to meet Darrik’s, repeating: “To good food, company and the amusing sight of your face turning bright red.” That may have been mean under different circumstances, but in this case, it was the truth, as Darrik’s face was already turning a little pinkish in anticipation of the food. “At least this time you have the bread right at hand, in case the dose is too strong,” he added as a little jest.
As always, the food was delicious and Toast enjoyed every mouthful of it, even using a piece of bread to clear the plate at the end. “Wow, that really hit the spot. A lovely ending to a not quite as lovely day.” The gnome wasn’t sure if Darrik was ready to talk about work just quite yet but they would have to get to it sooner or later. Thus, as soon as Pink had cleared the table and brought them a refill without even asking them, Toast sat back in his chair and looked at his new partner. “So, you want to hear of my fantastic discovery?” The sarcasm was heard without the shadow of a doubt. Yet, without further ado, Toast launched into an explanation of the events since he had parted ways with Darrik.
“As you can see, it isn’t much to go by, but at least we have quite a few people keeping their eyes and ears open now. Even if the observation system hasn’t really worked the way I had imagined from when he had first told me about it, we at least know that there has been activity near one of the entrances where people have been abducted. I just can’t quite remember who it was. But the reports should clear that up without a problem.” Toast gave Darrik a moment to digest what he had said before inquiring after the dwarf’s news. “What about you? Has your search brought any more light to this? I’m really intrigued to hear about Sergeant Iron though. He has been helpful? That sounds so very uncharacteristic. Let’s hear it!”
“You know,” Toast grinned at his partner. “I could absolutely see you do that to a new sergeant.” He couldn’t help but laugh at Darrik’s words, the guard was painting such a lovely picture and Toast wasn’t one to tell anyone off for a little prank, especially one that didn’t really do any harm. And what was the harm in this? Not Darrik’s fault that he was born a dwarf and the City Guard had a stick up its behind in some respects.
When Pink arrived with the food, Toast took the opportunity to order another drink as well. He could hold his drink but he was nowhere near as quick as Darrik was. The waitress instantly brought the tankard around and Toast raised it to meet Darrik’s, repeating: “To good food, company and the amusing sight of your face turning bright red.” That may have been mean under different circumstances, but in this case, it was the truth, as Darrik’s face was already turning a little pinkish in anticipation of the food. “At least this time you have the bread right at hand, in case the dose is too strong,” he added as a little jest.
As always, the food was delicious and Toast enjoyed every mouthful of it, even using a piece of bread to clear the plate at the end. “Wow, that really hit the spot. A lovely ending to a not quite as lovely day.” The gnome wasn’t sure if Darrik was ready to talk about work just quite yet but they would have to get to it sooner or later. Thus, as soon as Pink had cleared the table and brought them a refill without even asking them, Toast sat back in his chair and looked at his new partner. “So, you want to hear of my fantastic discovery?” The sarcasm was heard without the shadow of a doubt. Yet, without further ado, Toast launched into an explanation of the events since he had parted ways with Darrik.
“As you can see, it isn’t much to go by, but at least we have quite a few people keeping their eyes and ears open now. Even if the observation system hasn’t really worked the way I had imagined from when he had first told me about it, we at least know that there has been activity near one of the entrances where people have been abducted. I just can’t quite remember who it was. But the reports should clear that up without a problem.” Toast gave Darrik a moment to digest what he had said before inquiring after the dwarf’s news. “What about you? Has your search brought any more light to this? I’m really intrigued to hear about Sergeant Iron though. He has been helpful? That sounds so very uncharacteristic. Let’s hear it!”
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik was as good as his word: the spices successfully turned his face red once again. Still, Darrik took his time to enjoy it. With the bread and ale, the guard found himself pleasantly warm and sated by the end of the meal. "Aye, fine food indeed." Darrik also waited for Pink to clear the plates away before continuing "...but you're right, we'd best get down to catching each other up on our progress." Personally, Darrik would have liked to let the food digest for a good ten minutes before he got down to business, but at least Toast was kind enough to kick things off with his report first. "Well, I guess it'd come down to just what kind of things trigger your friend's ...whatsit? Observation System, aye? If a regular rat'd trip it up, it could be nothing. But if it'd take something big t'set it off, well, it could be something - it's not like most folks have much cause or desire to go in the sewers apart from your family and Gladrags' lot."
Darrik thought back over the previous day and a half, and gave Toast his honest appraisal "I'll not say my time was completely wasted, but it came pretty blimmin' close to it." The dwarf ticked off the witnesses in whatever order came to mind "Be damned if I could find the sod who saw Hyacinth attacked. The sot who saw the thug Hahmed attacked was about as useful as a gibbering lunatic. And as for the beggar, well, my dignity isn't ready to explain just how badly that went. I'll save that for when you need a damn good laugh and I've run out of other stories. Frankly, I'm almost ready to go poking at Gladrags earlier than normal, just in hopes of something new on any of the four victims. Might as well, come to think of it. See if any of the sifters were in the area where that observation thingummy got triggered." Darrik tugged at his beard thoughtfully before continuing.
"Truth be told Toast, on the topic of Jack Iron, I've got little in the way of explanation. You ever seen a ball of wool that's been all tangled up? That's how I imagine Jack's mind works. Utterly pointless trying to figure out what the sly bastard is thinking, in my opinion." Darrik harrumphed slightly. It was obvious to the dwarf Jack had earned his rank as a Staff Sergeant for being as devious as a trader selling sand to nomads. Letting his voice lower further to prevent any potential eavesdropping "Long story short, I was back at the Fort to see if I could have a little dig through recent reports out of old city when he called me into his office." Darrik briefly described the exchange
"So now I have a whole bunch of paperwork detailing closed cases which have all the hallmarks of little-to-no action taken on them. And what's more I don't have this paperwork officially, on account of it being closed cases, which means I can't act on it official-like. So the big question I have no answer to is this: what is Jack bloody well playing at? I can tell you this for nothing though." Darrik scowled, his thick black eyebrows making the most of the gesture "The bloody sod wouldn't give us a straight answer even if we had him on the rack. I'd be willing to bet he's incapable of a straight answer to save his blimmin' life." The dwarf guard took a long draught of his ale "So I'm thinking we check in with Gladrags tomorrow morning then, assuming we learn nothing useful, pop back to your workshop with the map and compare notes. What do you think?"
Darrik thought back over the previous day and a half, and gave Toast his honest appraisal "I'll not say my time was completely wasted, but it came pretty blimmin' close to it." The dwarf ticked off the witnesses in whatever order came to mind "Be damned if I could find the sod who saw Hyacinth attacked. The sot who saw the thug Hahmed attacked was about as useful as a gibbering lunatic. And as for the beggar, well, my dignity isn't ready to explain just how badly that went. I'll save that for when you need a damn good laugh and I've run out of other stories. Frankly, I'm almost ready to go poking at Gladrags earlier than normal, just in hopes of something new on any of the four victims. Might as well, come to think of it. See if any of the sifters were in the area where that observation thingummy got triggered." Darrik tugged at his beard thoughtfully before continuing.
"Truth be told Toast, on the topic of Jack Iron, I've got little in the way of explanation. You ever seen a ball of wool that's been all tangled up? That's how I imagine Jack's mind works. Utterly pointless trying to figure out what the sly bastard is thinking, in my opinion." Darrik harrumphed slightly. It was obvious to the dwarf Jack had earned his rank as a Staff Sergeant for being as devious as a trader selling sand to nomads. Letting his voice lower further to prevent any potential eavesdropping "Long story short, I was back at the Fort to see if I could have a little dig through recent reports out of old city when he called me into his office." Darrik briefly described the exchange
"So now I have a whole bunch of paperwork detailing closed cases which have all the hallmarks of little-to-no action taken on them. And what's more I don't have this paperwork officially, on account of it being closed cases, which means I can't act on it official-like. So the big question I have no answer to is this: what is Jack bloody well playing at? I can tell you this for nothing though." Darrik scowled, his thick black eyebrows making the most of the gesture "The bloody sod wouldn't give us a straight answer even if we had him on the rack. I'd be willing to bet he's incapable of a straight answer to save his blimmin' life." The dwarf guard took a long draught of his ale "So I'm thinking we check in with Gladrags tomorrow morning then, assuming we learn nothing useful, pop back to your workshop with the map and compare notes. What do you think?"
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
“As far as I understood how it works, it is only triggered when something passes by at the height the observation system is fixed at and since we put it high enough to only take into consideration larger beings of human size, it at least doesn’t account for the hundreds of normal rats that have passed by without a doubt.” Toast mulled his own words over for a moment however. “I need to talk to Spike about this again though. He needs to work out something more effective than this.” The gnome quite simply didn’t like that Darrik had pointed out the few worries he had had as well – what if it really didn’t mean squat that it had gone off? Sure, they had tried affixed it in a way that really only a human-sized person could have triggered it, not even a gnome, unless they were unusually tall, and what if it really only had been Gladrags or one of his minions? There were quite simply too many unknowns in this scenario and it was perturbing him. It was one thing to work on experiments and inventions without having a clue what might or might not happen, but this... This was completely different, and it unnerved him a little bit.
Upon listening to Darrik’s report however, he felt that his worries and frustrations were nothing in comparison to the dwarf’s and he cast aside his thoughts to focus on what his partner told him. “So we’re practically still on the same level as yesterday as far as witnesses goes. Don’t you find it weird that people always conveniently aren’t available when you need them?” It was a fairly general remark but there was a certain true ring to the statement as far as this particular investigation was concerned. “He might have found something in a day,” Toast said hopefully, completely agreeing with the idea of going back to see Gladrags. Not that he was particularly comfortable around the fellow but it was the best lead, if one could call it that, they had at the moment. Nothing else was really giving them anything.
Despite all the serious talk, Toast had to chuckle at the description of Iron’s mind. “If it’s really that tangled, then I wouldn’t want to be him,” he muttered, shaking his head. Of course, it was a good thing to have an intelligent brain to keep up with a mess of thoughts, jumbled up like a ball of wool but it sounded like hard work in Jack’s case. “That might complicate matters a little bit,” the gnome stated. “If you can’t use them officially, what are you going to do if one of them might actually lead to something you can use? I mean, you’ll probably have to give some sort of explanation in a report? Though maybe we should only worry about that once that actually happens.”
Mulling things over for a few quiet minutes, Toast looked at Darrik. “Do you think we can trust Sergeant Iron? Or do you think he’s trying to set us up? From the way he was showing off the first time I met him, and incidentally how he behaved when we were introduced, I am not really sure of his integrity.”
Finishing off his drink, he considered ordering another one or just leaving it be now, when Darrik suggested the plan for the next day. “Yes, I think that would probably be the best way to go. As it is, other than filtering through those new reports, unofficial as they are, Gladrags is the best thing we have at our hands right about now. I’ll check in with Spike tomorrow morning about the observation system and we’ll have a quick jog around the sewers early on but I think Gladrags is definitely it.”
Deciding against having another drink, seeing that both him and Darrik were done and they had a plan for the next day, the gnome nodded at his partner. “Alright, I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at Headquarters so we can set out to find Gladrags. I’ll know if anything happened in the sewers over night by 8 o’clock at the very latest, so I’ll meet you shortly after.” After a bit of friendly banter with Pink, the two of them parted ways for the day to indulge in their nightly rituals.
Upon listening to Darrik’s report however, he felt that his worries and frustrations were nothing in comparison to the dwarf’s and he cast aside his thoughts to focus on what his partner told him. “So we’re practically still on the same level as yesterday as far as witnesses goes. Don’t you find it weird that people always conveniently aren’t available when you need them?” It was a fairly general remark but there was a certain true ring to the statement as far as this particular investigation was concerned. “He might have found something in a day,” Toast said hopefully, completely agreeing with the idea of going back to see Gladrags. Not that he was particularly comfortable around the fellow but it was the best lead, if one could call it that, they had at the moment. Nothing else was really giving them anything.
Despite all the serious talk, Toast had to chuckle at the description of Iron’s mind. “If it’s really that tangled, then I wouldn’t want to be him,” he muttered, shaking his head. Of course, it was a good thing to have an intelligent brain to keep up with a mess of thoughts, jumbled up like a ball of wool but it sounded like hard work in Jack’s case. “That might complicate matters a little bit,” the gnome stated. “If you can’t use them officially, what are you going to do if one of them might actually lead to something you can use? I mean, you’ll probably have to give some sort of explanation in a report? Though maybe we should only worry about that once that actually happens.”
Mulling things over for a few quiet minutes, Toast looked at Darrik. “Do you think we can trust Sergeant Iron? Or do you think he’s trying to set us up? From the way he was showing off the first time I met him, and incidentally how he behaved when we were introduced, I am not really sure of his integrity.”
Finishing off his drink, he considered ordering another one or just leaving it be now, when Darrik suggested the plan for the next day. “Yes, I think that would probably be the best way to go. As it is, other than filtering through those new reports, unofficial as they are, Gladrags is the best thing we have at our hands right about now. I’ll check in with Spike tomorrow morning about the observation system and we’ll have a quick jog around the sewers early on but I think Gladrags is definitely it.”
Deciding against having another drink, seeing that both him and Darrik were done and they had a plan for the next day, the gnome nodded at his partner. “Alright, I’ll meet you tomorrow morning at Headquarters so we can set out to find Gladrags. I’ll know if anything happened in the sewers over night by 8 o’clock at the very latest, so I’ll meet you shortly after.” After a bit of friendly banter with Pink, the two of them parted ways for the day to indulge in their nightly rituals.
Re: Shadows from the Sewers
Darrik patted his beard thoughtfully after Toast explained how Spike's devices worked "Well, if it weren't one of Gladrags' lot, then we may want to make a note of where the little whatchacallem got triggered." When the dwarf was done with his report he answered Toast's question bluntly "Truth be told, Toast, it ain't that uncommon not to be able to find a bloke right when you want them. There are lots of ways to keep out of sight in Marn, lots of little hideaways, as much as it twists my beard into knots sometimes. But the beggar's fear was strange, at any rate, no question about that." The dwarf guard harrumphed his irritation about the mostly wasted day and a half of effort.
Toast's next questions were met with a wry chuckle "Well, it's little use worrying about all of this too much so early on. A guard has t'work with what he's got, and what we've got are missing people and big rats, as well as a bunch of unanswered questions." Darrik tugged at part of his beard "The questions don't seem to want to be answering themselves, so maybe looking at these other things the sarge dropped in me lap may happen to put a new light on things. And if it don't, well, no harm no foul. If we're really lucky I'll stumble across the albino rat bastard on the way home so I can clunk the wretched abomination over the head and drag him in for questioning." It would certainly put a nice spin on his week, braining some no-good shifter criminal, but the dwarf guard never had that kind of luck.
Darrik took care of most of his remaining lager while Toast mused over things, and gave the gnome's question regarding Jack Iron serious thought. After some heavy consideration the dwarf responded "It's an uncertain world, Toast. But were I a gambling dwarf, my money would be on the table in favour of Jack. It is true I think the man is a smug bastard with a terrible sense of humour, who could probably use a punch in the nose every other weekday, the way he delights in taking cheap shots at gnomes and elves and dwarves. But, fact is, he's happy to take the odd cheap shot at his fellow humans too. He may be an arsehole, but he's honest about being an arsehole. Doesn't hide it. There's a kind of integrity in that." Darrik drained the last of his tankard "But the fact is, there is nothing about Jack which makes my back itch in expectation of a dagger, and I'm willing to go with my instincts on such things."
Darrik tugged at his beard again. "What really worries me is why he didn't give me the reports openly. Now it's no misdemeanour for a guard to look at closed reports, though it's a bit frowned upon to go handing them out willy-nilly for no good reason. But that said, the shape of the information we have at the moment would be justification enough if I'd brown-nosed a bit with a clerk in Records." The dwarf sighed. It made his head hurt, trying to think in that vein. He liked his arguments straightforward and logical, not all knotted up "Well, maybe a good look through them after we visit Gladrags will shed some light on it all. You're good at comin' up with twisty conspiracy notions, maybe somethin' will jump out at you." After Toast suggested a time, Darrik nodded "I'll come prepared in me sewer gear in case you an' Spike find somethin' I need t'see." Darrik didn't dally long after they wound up the conversation, apart from passing on his regards to Pink and the cook for the fine meal and service. The dwarf needed a decent night's sleep, or at least two broken halves of one.
Toast's next questions were met with a wry chuckle "Well, it's little use worrying about all of this too much so early on. A guard has t'work with what he's got, and what we've got are missing people and big rats, as well as a bunch of unanswered questions." Darrik tugged at part of his beard "The questions don't seem to want to be answering themselves, so maybe looking at these other things the sarge dropped in me lap may happen to put a new light on things. And if it don't, well, no harm no foul. If we're really lucky I'll stumble across the albino rat bastard on the way home so I can clunk the wretched abomination over the head and drag him in for questioning." It would certainly put a nice spin on his week, braining some no-good shifter criminal, but the dwarf guard never had that kind of luck.
Darrik took care of most of his remaining lager while Toast mused over things, and gave the gnome's question regarding Jack Iron serious thought. After some heavy consideration the dwarf responded "It's an uncertain world, Toast. But were I a gambling dwarf, my money would be on the table in favour of Jack. It is true I think the man is a smug bastard with a terrible sense of humour, who could probably use a punch in the nose every other weekday, the way he delights in taking cheap shots at gnomes and elves and dwarves. But, fact is, he's happy to take the odd cheap shot at his fellow humans too. He may be an arsehole, but he's honest about being an arsehole. Doesn't hide it. There's a kind of integrity in that." Darrik drained the last of his tankard "But the fact is, there is nothing about Jack which makes my back itch in expectation of a dagger, and I'm willing to go with my instincts on such things."
Darrik tugged at his beard again. "What really worries me is why he didn't give me the reports openly. Now it's no misdemeanour for a guard to look at closed reports, though it's a bit frowned upon to go handing them out willy-nilly for no good reason. But that said, the shape of the information we have at the moment would be justification enough if I'd brown-nosed a bit with a clerk in Records." The dwarf sighed. It made his head hurt, trying to think in that vein. He liked his arguments straightforward and logical, not all knotted up "Well, maybe a good look through them after we visit Gladrags will shed some light on it all. You're good at comin' up with twisty conspiracy notions, maybe somethin' will jump out at you." After Toast suggested a time, Darrik nodded "I'll come prepared in me sewer gear in case you an' Spike find somethin' I need t'see." Darrik didn't dally long after they wound up the conversation, apart from passing on his regards to Pink and the cook for the fine meal and service. The dwarf needed a decent night's sleep, or at least two broken halves of one.