Monday, December 23, 2013

Day Six-Hundred-One: Wouldn't be a normal day without a prisoner or two

"What did you use?"

"I forget."

"Will it have lasting repercussions?"

"Not a clue."

"How long will he be sick?"

"Good question, that."

"Why did you do it?"


Questioning Grylock is akin to prying information out of a child. He's a stubborn, irate little asshole, and gods know he loves getting his way. Even if that means poisoning a man. Especially if it means poisoning a man.

I thought we were past all this shit. Grylock had his fun with the pranking, and when he got caught, he gave it up. Hell, Jeffrey indirectly saved Grylock when we were dealing with those poodle spider things by sacrificing himself to let me get away. Why dredge up old grudges again? Is Grylock really that petty?

Yes, apparently. Yes he is. Though he has more of a reason than I'd anticipated.

As I mentioned before, Grylock's under house arrest. I don't want him sneaking around. Problem is, Grylock's very very good at sneaking around, and so I've had to not only post a constant menagerie of guards at his doorstep, we've had to secure the porthole on his cabin so he can't slip out onto the hull of the Dauphine. I've also made a point of pestering him non-stop about poisoning Jeffrey, 'cause gods does this irritate me.

Must irritate him, too, because after a solid two hour session of 'interrogation' he snarled and threw up his hands.

"Ye're shit at this, ye know, Dragomir? Pure shit." The goblin lay back on his bed and sighed. "Pressure without threat isna good enough to pry info outta me. Ye need some torture devices."

I leaned against the door of his cabin, scowling and rubbing my eyes. "I don't torture people, Grylock. All I want is answers. 'n maybe a reason why I shouldn't boot you offa the Dauphine right now."

Grylock laughed. "Go ahead! Go right ahead. Your pilgrimage, boss man. I dunno why I'm here in the first place. Ever since ye plucked me outta my hometown as a 'representative' to Pubton I've been playin' things by ear. Life, ah, life is so odd..."

He whistled for a while. I planted fingers in my ears. Grylock has no musicial ability whatsoever. (Or he was being deliberately awful.)

After regaining some of my arguing voice, I yelled over the discordant tune. "Shut UP! Gods, you're such a brat. How I've put up with you for this long without strangling you - "

"As if ye could 'fore I stuck a knife in your gut," Grylock added with a tiny grin.

" - I don't know," I concluded, glaring coldly. "You're an asshole, Grylock. Pranks, threats, cavorting about with some unruly beast... that damned boar of yours stinks up the Neo Beefiary every time you take it in to feed. People want you out, and I don't know that I can stop 'em from tossing you into a gutter somewheres. Maybe with a knife in your back."

"Might help my posture," the goblin murmured. He stared out the window of his cabin. "'n maybe the kid'll find me in said gutter."

I paused, the mechanisms of my mind grinding to a halt at the word 'kid'. "What kid?"

Grylock straightened his glasses. The rebellious humour in his face narrowed into bitter anger. "The kid everyone forgot. The kid people might start rememberin' if I put his behaviour back into their minds. The kid who went missin', whose parents should be lookin' for if they were halfway decent folk. The kid who always gave me a damned good game of chess."

The answer was pretty obvious. "Oh. That kid. Uh... what's he got to do...?"

He shook his head, but wouldn't elaborate. "Lemme talk to Jeffrey. That's all I have te say."

I slumped. "I doubt he wants to speak to you, Grylock. Highly doubt."

Shaking his head again, Grylock continued to stare out the window. He wouldn't say anything else. He's never looked so old.

Logan, eh?

Logan's the reason Grylock poisoned Jeffrey.



Dragomir the Wanderer

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