Patience was not among Hadlaug’s virtues, but he could wait when necessary. Waiting for a job to start was one thing – somewhere he could take care of his arms and armour, train, or even just sleep. Sitting in the shadows grated on him. It wasn't as though he had much of interest to look at either.
The streets outside were clear at this hour, and the dull rain kept them that way. It couldn't even be bothered to fall with any enthusiasm, instead drifting in damp sheets.
He was ready to storm into the next room and brutalise the customer by way of introduction. But that would be unnecessary, and he didn’t want to leave a trail. Even if it might relieve his tension. Still, he'd snuck into the shop, and found a relatively comfortable chair in a shadowy corner, so there was little reason to do anything overt. He was only here to talk.
From the conversation drifting out, he suspected Merid may welcome a rough interruption. The customer was an imbecile, and she had to force interest in his inane blather about why he wanted the tattoo.
Hadlaug couldn't help thinking about the ridiculous tattoo Gudrolf had gotten. A horse rearing up. He'd thought it made him look tough or something, when actually it'd only made him look more of an idiot. Gudrolf had still been trying to fool himself that he was a mercenary, a while after Hadlaug had realised he really wasn't. A horse! Shaking his head, Hadlaug suppressed a surge of anger.
Her work done, Merid let the client inspect it. He sounded unimpressed. He sounded the type who didn’t admit to being impressed with much.
They emerged into the front of the shop a minute later, and Hadlaug forced himself to remain relaxed. Even if they saw him, there was no reason he shouldn't be there. The client was too ignorant to notice anyone beyond himself anyway, and Merid was anxious to be rid of him.
She closed and locked the door behind him, took a long sigh, and turned to face Hadlaug.
'What do you want?' she asked. He wasn't sure she'd recognised him. He'd only met her once, in passing, mainly knowing her from Thjorn. He'd considered getting a glyphed tattoo from her. But the idea of letting someone that close to him with a potential weapon had put him on edge, so he’d dismissed the notion.
'Information,' he said, leaning into what light came from the other room.
Faint recognition registered. 'Did Thjorn send you?' she asked.
He rose and stepped from the shadows, his hands clear of his weapons. 'No, he didn't send me. I hope that doesn't mean there'll be trouble.'
'That's up to you.' She did her best to appear unflustered. It didn't quite work. 'Must you try to intimidate everyone?'
'I don't really try.'
'Well try doing it less.'
'When it's not called for.'
'Is it called for now?' she asked.
'Depends how free you're going to be with what I need to know.'
'What you need to know is that I have protective glyphs on my body that would make any attempt to do me harm less than healthy for you.' A bluff? Maybe an exaggeration. She probably had some protective glyphs. While she did her best to sell it, he doubted they'd be much good against glyphed weapons.
He couldn't resist a grin. 'Does that mean you won't be forthcoming with what I want?'
'It means that if you want to know something you'll have to get it the old fashioned way. Pay.'
Good. Bought information would be more reliable. He took a pouch from his belt, tossing it on the table.
Walking calmly to the table, she took the pouch and inspected the contents. Her hands didn’t shake too badly, but only because she controlled them. 'That'll buy you so much. What do you want to know?'
'You have contacts in the Alliance.' It was a statement rather than a question.
'Some,' she said. 'Not highly placed.'
'What about the illegal stuff they have going on?'
'That’s harder to hear about. Just because I'm a glyphpunk doesn't mean I know about illegal stuff.'
'Didn't say it did,' he said. 'But I figure you'd have a better idea how things work than anyone else I could find.' Approaching anyone in the Alliance would be more likely to result in leaving behind a body, or portions thereof.
'What exactly are we talking about?'
'Any idea who could have been running an illegal mining operation in Vorek?'
She held his gaze. Was she considering what she knew, or what would sound reasonable? No way of telling. 'I don't know anything about it. Presumably someone associated with one of their farms out there.'
'I'm not a complete idiot. I'd worked that out.'
'Then I'm not sure what you want from me. I don't know the inner workings of the Alliance well enough to understand how they'd accomplish something like that.'
'Can you point me at someone who does?'
She shook her head. 'None of my contacts are likely to know that kind of thing.'
'Do you know anyone in the Alliance who might know someone who knows that kind of thing?'
She was uncomfortable. Did she not want to risk alienating, or losing, contacts by pointing him in their direction? Possibly. That meant he might have to escalate things to the point where she’d consider it.
'I've heard there's an investigation of some kind inside the Alliance,' she said, sounding uncertain. 'Looking for someone who's done something wrong. An acquaintance is concerned the investigation might bring an indiscretion of his to light. Nothing to do with mining.'
The Alliance idiots who were ambushed in Aemyr? That could explain things. 'You know anything about who's running this investigation?'
'Only that it seems to be run out of the local office. It'll be a senior glyphists overseeing it, and there are only three or four high enough to have initiated it. How closely they'll oversee, I don't know. And I've no idea who they'd have selected to run the actual investigation.' She fumbled for something useful. 'They'd have assigned a guard, or someone to protect the investigator. But they wouldn't leave it up to a guard, so try and find one of their guards and non-guards working together. They wouldn't normally mix, so they should be apparent.'
That sounded right. And it gave him something to go on. 'Okay.'
'Anything else?' she asked.
'Depends. Will you go running to Thjorn, telling him what I'm after? Or that I threatened you?'
'You think he'd care? Besides, it'd be a bit difficult at the moment.'
He frowned.
'You haven't heard?' she said. 'He's in Firepeaks.'
The barked laugh escaped before he could stop himself. The son of a bastard had gone and gotten himself caught. It couldn't happen to a more deserving git. He almost considered giving her a bonus for the good news. Almost.
He couldn't help chuckling as he left the shop, his mood lightened. Even the damp didn't bother him.
So, someone else was looking into this mine. Could that be why they closed it down? The search was taking some time if so. Would they have anything useful, anything worth the effort of getting to? He didn't want to get that close to the Alliance, but might have to resort to it if nothing else came along.