After collecting his items at the collection center, Vlad left the guild and made his way toward the slums located in the First Ring.
There, the air reeked with the stench of salt, rotting nets, and sun-baked fish. The houses were all one-story shacks made of wood and rusting iron.
The streets were narrow, showing the scarcity of land, and were made of gravel and dirt. From the residents' appearance, it was obvious that decent living had long been a luxury they couldn't afford.
Thalmaris was one of the wealthiest cities on the continent, but even here, poverty was abundant, with people doing all they could for just enough coins to barely keep them afloat.
In a city where seafood was the cheapest on any menu, being a fisherman with no real strength meant being expendable.
Vlad moved through the maze of alleys, guided by the details he had bought from the information ring. Eventually, he stopped before a shack at the end of a sharp turn.
He eyed the weather-beaten sign nailed above the door. The numbers were faded, half-swallowed by decayed wood splinters.
"House number 104," he murmured as his eyes scanned for nearby residents. "This is the one."
It would have been great if Vlad could see the fisherman's body to confirm his suspicion, but if Garm had truly been a test subject of the Deceiver, digging him up would be as good as alerting the alchemist.
'Let's hope I can get lucky, and this doesn't turn into a complete waste of time,' Vlad muttered to himself as he climbed the steps and knocked on the door of the house next to Garm's.
He knocked twice. The door creaked open a few inches, and an old, bearded face emerged from the dim light, lined and leathery, watching him with wary eyes.
"What business brings you to my door?" the man asked, his voice low and graveled. His old yellow eyes scanned him up and down.
Before Vlad could speak, the man cut him off. "If you are to ask about Garm's incident, then I have nothing to tell you," he said before slamming his door shut.
"One gold for five minutes of your time," Vlad said.
There was a pause, and then the door creaked open wider. The old man stepped forward just enough to extend his weather-cracked palm out, asking for the promised gold.
Vlad placed a gold coin in his hand. The old man's cracked lips curled into a serious smile as the coin disappeared into his closed fist.
"Come inside," he said, stepping back into the dimly lit room.
The space was cramped, lit only by a narrow shaft of sunlight slipping through a gap in the tin-sheeted roof. The old man sat on the low bed and gestured toward a worn wooden stool resting against the wall.
"Youngman, I will be straight with you," the man said before Vlad even settled into his seat. "I know nothing about who dug out Garm's body and for what reason," he said, making Vlad freeze halfway into his seat, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"People say it was the same bastard who killed him, and maybe that's true. But I had known Garm for six years, and as far as I could know, he was a simple man who kept to himself."
"He just worked, drank, and stayed out of trouble," the man said, meeting Vlad's gaze with unshaken calm.
'He is not lying,' Vlad thought, seeing the steady composure of someone with nothing to hide.
The old man smirked faintly, seeing the silence stretching. "You were the one who offered gold for my time," he said with a shrug. "You never said I had to know anything useful to earn it."
Vlad gave a slow nod, then asked, "When did the body disappear?" The old man raised an eyebrow before answering, "Three, maybe four hours ago."
'This explains why the information Ring did not have this detail,' Vlad thought, his mind going through the possibilities of what could have happened.
"The grave was left open?" Vlad asked, and the man nodded in confirmation.
'If Garm's actions were unexpected, then why did the Deceiver wait three days before retrieving the body, and why leave it open?' Vlad pondered.
'But, if he wanted to erase any signs of his work to stay safe, then why let people know?'
'So… what could be the reason behind his actions?' Vlad thought, the question gnawing at the edge of his thoughts. 'A message? A threat?'
"Did Garm or his wife ever mention anything that suggested they had money?" Vlad asked after several seconds of silence. "Or maybe you notice either of them spending more time than usual with someone? Going places outside their normal routine?"
The old man shook his head. "No. Nothing like that." He scratched at his beard. "He did talk about wanting to move to the Third Ring, so his little girl could get into a good Ascension school."
"But hell, who around here doesn't dream of getting out of this shit hole?" He scoffed, a dry, bitter laugh escaping his throat.
"Spending more time with someone? I don't think so." He said, after thinking for a moment.
"As for going anywhere out of the ordinary, no. We fish together in the mornings, return by late morning, sell our catch in the market, and then spend the evening fixing up the boats, patching nets, and sharpening harpoons."
"If there was any time left, we neighbors drink a little home-brewed rotgut and call it a night." He said, with a clear fondness in his tone.
"Garm was a simple fisherman," he said, a trace of sorrow softening his voice. "Had little to his name and died a death he didn't deserve."
"Your five minutes are up." He leaned forward slightly and calmly stated, "But since I like to earn my living, I will tell you some details so you won't get scammed by someone with made-up information."
"Garm had pale lung disease, and with no money for a cure, he was on borrowed time, and he knew it."
"But he wasn't ready to die, so every so often, he went to the Mistshore Woods hunting for rare herbs, hoping to earn extra coin, maybe even stumble on something that could buy him a few more years." He said, and after a pause, continued.
"Six days ago was the last time he came out fishing with us, and that day something big happened."
"One of our group members, Reeves, big, loud bastard, made an off-color joke about Garm's wife like he always did."
"Normally, Garm would have laughed it off or ignored it. But this time," He said, a smile crossing his face. "This time, he grabbed Reeves by the throat and nearly crushed his windpipe." A quiet scoff escaped his throat.
"And the thing is, Reeves could have thrown Garm across the boat with one hand, but he couldn't." He shook his head slowly. "Maybe he was just taken aback, or air escaped his lungs, leaving him breathless."
"Reeves is a proud man, and he did say that he would break Garm's leg for attacking him, and I believe he would have if pushed."
"But kill him? Kill his whole family over a bit of shame?" He shook his head slowly, his eyes distant. "Even Reeves isn't that far gone."
"Besides, we settled it." He said, his tone dismissive. "I made them shake hands two hours later, and as for why Garm did not join us for the hunt for two days, it was not out of hate or pride, he was just feeling very sick."
"Hell, after the incident, even the authorities questioned Reeves, and they concluded he was not behind their deaths,"
"So don't go around tossing out gold coins hoping to dig up something new," he said in a serious tone. "Because I can assure you, there's nothing more to Garm's life than what I have just told you."
"Thanks for your time and the honesty," Vlad said as he stood before he flicked a gold coin across the room.
"One last thing," Vlad asked, as the man caught the coin mid-air, his fingers closing around it with a smile. "Can you tell me roughly where Garm used to go for the herbs?"
"Mistsink Glade." He answered, happy to earn more. "In the old mines, a rich and fairly safe place in the forest,"
Vlad left the fisherman's house, his mind already piecing together various possible scenarios. With a possible solid lead, he decided to head straight to the Mist shore Woods forest.