A week ago, one of Grimm’s mercs vanished. No warning. No farewell swig of Spike. Just gone. He wasn’t the brightest torch in the cave, but he wasn’t a coward either. Grimm chewed rocks over it. Still is.
I think the idiot got lucky. Stumbled onto the right sequence and cracked open the chest before you could.
Problem is, we don’t know where he went.
Start sniffing around camp. Ask questions, but don’t tip your hand. If you tell them why you’re asking, they’ll clam up tighter than a Lucent Elf in a mud-wrestling pit.
A Brother, eh?
[Eldrin rubs the back of his neck, visibly frustrated.]
I don’t like chasing shadows. But if we want that gem, and whatever passage it unlocks, we follow the trail.
