darkmoon-delusion:
Gwyndolin took his seat, facing the information broker. Giving a tiny smile, he shook his head at the question. âNo, no. The snakes are a part of me. And there is no reason to be biting.â Taking a moment, he thought of how he should word his questionsâand silently hoped this would lead to something useful.
âI am interested in what you might know of the cityâs crime patterns⊠as well as what happens when people die here. Perhaps you might know something related to these topics?â He eyed Greed after speaking, interested in his expression.
âCrime patterns, huh? Gotta be honest, I havenât been here long enough to tell yet. The police seem capable, and I havenât seen any violent crime- not even a mention of it in passing. As far as death goes, Iâm pretty sure when you die, you just, uh, come back. Dead people go into the hospital, living ones come out, you get me?â Not that Greed would know personally, of course. He had his own methods of dealing with fatal injury.
âBut just for you, Iâll keep a weather eye out from crime, eh? You come back every now and again, or toss me your phone number, and Iâll let you know what I find out. Is your interest from a business or protection perspective?â Greed could be looking at a competitor or a client, so far as he could tell. This conversation could, if he wasnât diplomatic, go pear-shaped very quickly.
