The lizardkins had fully set-up their camp in the open field outside the town. Without the trees of the forest, hammocks were repurposed into lean-tos, and dirt were dug into to store food against the elements underground. It was twilight, and a few campfires were starting to pop up.

‟Look at them,” Mayor Soira grumbled to Merylin. ‟Destroying our beautiful landscape, those savages.”

The mayor had followed Morgan and the old knight on their way to the encampment, grumbling all the way through. Despite Morgan being halfway to wishing to slap the mayor across the face, Merylin, ever the diplomat, continued to engage him in civil conversation.

‟I doubt they mean any harm, honourable mayor. They are simply used to living off the land.”

The mayor's tongue clicked. ‟Taking from the land, more like.”

Morgan glanced at the lumber yard that had decimated an acre of trees with a look of ironic confusion across her face. She felt no particular distaste for the mayor aside from annoyance at his prattle, despite everything. The man named Soira simply acted the same way as every single normal individual she had met. Even now, despite having spent a few days in the town and plenty of hours with her, the mayor still could not find it in him to look her in the eyes.

As the trio entered the lizardkin's makeshift camp, she could see the mayor tensing up. His short shoulders drew him up a couple of inches as they tightened, and he now walked with a awkward gait. There was a moment where they passed by 2 lizardkin hunters and he stopped for a second in his step - as if wondering if he should turn back - before continuing on along with Merylin.

The trio approached Fisher, who sat on a makeshift bench of crates, overseeing - or rather overhearing - the camp.

Kin Fisher greeted, ‟Good day, Knightsss of the Round?”

‟Merylin of the Round, and the mayor, Soira is here as well,” Merylin confirmed. ‟How could you tell?”

‟My kinsss do not walk with stepsss heavy like yoursss. Now then, how can I help?”

Merylin was about to get to her point when Soira cut across shouting, ‟Ever since your people came, we've had an outbreak of putin potatoes! Those things are leeching off our farms!”

Fisher gave a puzzled scrunch. ‟I'm not clear how that pertainsss to usss?”

‟Isn't it obvious?!” the mayor exclaimed. ‟You must have bought the seeds of putins with you and polluted the place!”

‟Hmm...” Fisher closed her blind eyes in though. ‟That isss possssible. Very well. I can have my kin help with the eradication of the spud. Would that do?”

‟What? I-!” The mayor was clearly not ready for such cooperation from the lizardkins. Morgan could tell the man was trying to find a reason to refuse the aid, or at least continue with his anger which had been cut short. ‟Fine! But I want them out working immediately!”

‟Of courssse. Are there anything elssse we can help with, Mayor of Grimmel?”

The man paused, evident having come for a lengthy drawn out drag out fight. With his fume cut short however, he could only huff in derision and turned and stormed off. On his way out of the camp however, he made efforts to double tap his steps to avoid areas with more lizardkins than not, choosing to avoid the reptiloids entirely.

After Soira was out of earshot, Fisher voiced out, ‟Morgan, are you there?”

Surprised to be called out, the knight replied simply, ‟Yes, Fisher.”

‟How goesss the invessstigation?”

‟We have made some grounds, but I cannot share the details with you.”

The old lizardkin nodded. ‟I understand. I believe that if it isss you, you will be able to help sssolve this without biasss.”

‟I don't understand,” Morgan admitted, noticing a slight smile on Merylin's face. ‟I'm not a detective.”

‟You don't need to be. There isss a talented one with you, not? You being there isss the important part. If I'm not wrong, your role in the whole ordeal will be more akin to a guiding light than anything else.”

‟Are you always so cryptic?”

‟A superpower that comesss with age.” Fisher grinned.

Merylin injected, ‟I'm sorry to cut the conversation short, but we are here with a reason.”

‟Of courssse. What help can I provide?”

Merylin went first, and as the old knight and old kin discussed guard rotations and the possibility of letting the lizardkin and Grimmel begin trade, Morgan's mind drifted. She had never been one to tackle the diplomatic sphere, having left things mostly up to Art. While Morgan was Art's second in a fight and with physical task, Merylin was usually the go-to when tact was required. It was then Mrogan wondered how Art was doing as well. It had been 2 days since their commander had left for The Summit, and yet not a lot of progress had happened with the case. She would like for the mystery to be solved before Art returned.

‟Morgan?” Merylin's voice brought her out of her thoughts. ‟Care to brief Kin Fisher on why you're here now?”

‟Right.” Morgan explained, ‟We need to ask the two suspects some questions.” Before Fisher could ask, Morgan explained, ‟We're not here with accusations yet.”

Fisher nodded. ‟Very well.” With a bony clawed finger, she pointed to a campfire not far from them. ‟Do you need me to come with you?”

‟No,” Morgan answered. ‟It is fine. Do rest.”

‟What a nice girl.” Were Fisher's final words to them before they walked away.

As they made their way to the campfire, Merylin asked, ‟Do you truly not know what Fisher meant about you? About your role in this case?”

‟No,” Morgan admitted. ‟Do you?”

The old knight smiled. ‟I do, but it would not be fun if I told you.”

Morgan glared at her, annoyed. Perhaps being cryptic really does come with age.

As they approached the campfire, the couple was sat around the flame, enjoying a conversation with others of the tribe. The kins all turned to the two approaching knights, their voices cutting off as they entered their vision. One of the lizardkin stood to their feet.

‟It's okay!” The girl quickly intervened.

Morgan confidently said, ‟Not that there would be any trouble if you decided to try anything.”

‟Morgan,” Merylin berated. ‟Behave.”

The deformed knight turned to the lovers. ‟I have some questions for you.”

The tribesmen all looked to the two suspects. They nodded their approval back, and slowly alongside some parting words, the remaining members floated away from the fire. Morgan and Merylin sat down next to the flame.

Morgan noted, ‟In all the commotions of the last few days, I realized I did not get your names.”

The couple turned to each other surprised. Then, the girl said, ‟My name is Red. And this is Wolf Bane.”

‟Just Red?” Morgan asked.

‟It's short of Redemia,” Red admitted. ‟Redemia Hood.”

Morgan nodded. The name asking was just a formality of course. She had actually found out from her investigations. But Sherl had another question she wanted Morgan to ask that was far more pressing that required some gentler words to lay the ground with.

‟Wolf Bane.”

‟Yesss?” he answered.

‟When I found you, how did you know we would suspect you for the murder?”

The lizardkin looked shocked and confused. ‟What do you mean? Isss it not obviousss the reassson?”

‟At first, I thought so too,” Merylin said. ‟But after Morgan and Sherl Octavia explained things to me, it started making very little sense.”

Morgan continued, ‟The reason we taught it might be you was because of the wound. It is definitely shaped like a lizardkin's claws. But after learning from a little mistake while finding our last lead, we couldn't add up a missing vantage point.”

Red, even more confused than her partner, asked with a perplexed expression. ‟What do you mean? Was there something missing?”

‟More akin to something that was there.” Morgan pondered. ‟Wolf Bane, how did you know about the wound in the first place? We had only arrived at that conclusion on the day.”

Wolf was stunned. ‟I... I didn't know...” He then paused and quickly gathered his thought. ‟We have been spotted a few timesss by the villagersss together. I assssumed they would sussspect me because of that.”

‟But if the murder weapon had not been a claw, the killer could literally be anyone. A monster would not easily be on a person's mind. How were you so sure they would point to you?”

‟I... I overheard the villagersss talking of it.”

Was that a save? Was it the truth? Something in-between? Morgan was not as good at reading people as Art was. She could see fear and disgust easily, as those had often been thrown at her over her enitre life, but everything else was slightly out of her area of expertise.

‟Are you lying?”

Red jumped in. ‟He wouldn't! We had no idea about the claw wounds. We just thought the villagers had finally caught up to us.” The girl hugged the lizardkin's arm in a veil of protection.

‟It'sss okay, love.” He looked Morgan in the eye. ‟I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Morgan and Merylin stood to leave, aware they were not likely to get more out of the pair. ‟Very well,” Merylin said. ‟We'll be back after finding more evidence.”

‟Of the case?” Red asked, her eyes fierce. ‟Or of us?” It seemed the girl had found her courage after being cornered.

Merylin didn't answer as she left ahead, leaving them to stew. Morgan turned to them and looked to Wolf.

‟I never said you had things to be ashamed of. Guilt on the other hand is a whole different story.”