“ Ah, fresh air!” Lak Lok lifted out his arms and basked in the glow of the sun. “ Thank goodness we don’t have to taste the food of this establishment anymore.” He momentarily retched, his face curdling as if he’d sucked a raw lemon, shuddering at the memory of that abomination of an owlbear steak.

Lak Lok watched in silence, keeping his scaly lips sewn shut, as the genasi and moon elf interacted. As much as he felt as he was wrong in his assumptions, he could still sense a lingering spark between the two of them. It was true that Kobold coupling consisted of both the wife and husband attempting to murder each other during their honeymoon but Lak Lok saw the hints of affection between the both of them. Why, the genasi was positively glowing with passion.

Or was it anger? Lak Lok couldn’t differentiate between the two. As soon as the Genasi and Moon Elf walked away, Lak Lok turned around to speak to Nemorad and Graves.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m not occupied with anything at the moment, so, let’s say, all three of us meet at the morgue in about an hour? I am quite eager to see…...……”

Lak Lok’s voice trailed off as his nostrils flared, an intoxicating aroma filling the air around him. It was heavenly, saliva pooling in his mouth, as he could taste the dozens of different spices that were suffused in it. He eventually located the source of the smell, a single solitary cart of meat buns being carted around by a warthog. Two elderly gnomes held the reigns, egging the beast forward every so often.

Is that…...sunlight saffron glaze?

Marbled unicorn buns.

Concentrate, Lak Lok.

Marbled unicorn buns.

You need to focus on the -

I NEEEDDDDDD IT!

Lak Lok wiped the drool off his chin and stammered. “ O-on second thought, I just remembered.” Lak Lok’s eyes trailed as the cart of deliciousness was escaping from him.

His stomach rumbled.

“Seeyoulaterinanhourgottago!” Lak Lok sprinted off down the road, waving for the cart to stop.

---

One afternoon supper later, Lak Lok arrived at the morgue, plumper than he had been in the morning. It was a squat building that was located relatively far away from the rest of the town, secluded underneath the shadow of a great husk of an elder tree that saw better days. The kobold patted his slightly distended gut and burped. Oh, that was a good snack. Lak Lok stared around for any sight of the necromancer or Nemorad before growling in impatience.

He wasn’t one to wait around. If the others weren’t here yet, he might as well take the initiative then. He walked out towards the entrance and then, a large war club slammed into the earth in front of him. A large burly orc had stepped out from behind a guard post. His right hand held the beefy looking weapon while the other scooped out trail mix from a small satchel and tossed it into his mouth.

“ Yes?”

“ Ahem.” Lak Lok cleared his throat before speaking. “ I am here on behalf of Mister Garrick. We require access to your morg-” He then eyed what the orc was holding and spoke in a horrified tone of voice “ Excuse me, are those dried grapes in your trail mix?”

The orc raised an eyebrow, staring back at the kobold and back at his snack.

“ Yeah. Ya got a problem wit’ it? “

“ No, nothing. It’s just that, um - “ The kobold coughed, cursing his lack of tact. “ Couldn’t you substitute it with something more palatable?”

“ I’ll have ya know that mah great grandmummy made this fer me!”

“ Your great grandmother fed you poison?!” Lak Lok’s eyes widened and covered his mouth before giggling nervously as the orc raised the club over his shoulders, his large shadow looming over his minuscule form “ I mean, your great grandmother fed you passion……..”

Outside of the inn, the girls (and that otter, Flick noted, in a different direction) dispersed. While the ladies headed toward the Garrick Estate, the menfolk were heading forwards the sheriff's office. Flicker thought it was probably just as well that the "estate team" was comprised of the fairer sex. There were probably still some broken hearts over there, mourning Garrick's wife. Gentle words would be better suited for that investigation. Although... Flick couldn't exactly say he got a "gentle" vibe from any of them. Maybe volatile instead. Maybe not such a good idea after all then. Oh well, they can sort it out themselves I'm sure.

A genasi, a kobold, a warforged, and a man with a giant skeleton made up the other party. What could go wrong?

As the group made their way down the next street, something seemed to catch said kobold's nose and he scampered away. That was no skin off Flick's nose, out of everyone the little lizard was... well. No need to get into that.

So that left Flick, Nemorad, Graves and... companion. Flicker turned to Nemo, who'd answered his previous question.

"Newbie huh? Welcome," Flicker said to the warforged, flashing him a warm - if somewhat sarcastic - smile. "I'll have to show y'all my favorite over priced, under stocked shops. Or dens of filth! Though it sounds like we won't be in town too long, judgin' from how eager some of us are."

Whatever the Forsaken-native's issue was with the town, he didn't elaborate. He thought that soon enough it would be apparent to anyone that spent time there anyway. Down a dirt trail that widened at the end, Flicker slowed his pace to nodded in one direction.

"Morgue's down there," he told the others, though he expected that Graves probably knew that already. "Can't miss it. Sheriff's ain't too far. Don't know what exactly you're lookin' for, but it's not really my scene anyway. So, er. Good luck?"

He shrugged with one shoulder, making the motion awkward. "We'll meet up again here, or if not, meet up all together with the girls."

In another direction was the local sheriff's office. It was a bit too small for a town of this size in Flick's opinion, but then, he had a lot of opinions. There were a few people hanging around the little porch area outside of the building, deputies and brown-nosers Flicker guessed. "This is it, nice place huh?"