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Henk would have readily agreed with Alistair's gut reaction to force the information out of Garrett, were he anybody other than a crime lord. With the Vigilite cell compromised, they would be very much outnumbered should they make themselves enemies with every unsavory character in the city.
It still wouldn't be a fair fight for said characters, but Henk would rather not make so much noise.
Rather than cough up the information he'd offered, however, Garrett seemed far more focused on Alistair now, his sunken eyes locked on the blind Dreadlord as he fetched the wine. "A damned fool, that's who." A catlike grin spreads across the man's aging face, teeth perfect and white in contrast to the oily look of his skin. "Your friend has a good head on his shoulders, Espen. I like him already..."
While Garrett's stalling was annoying, and perhaps a bit disconcerting given his sudden fixation on Alistair, it did allow Krixus to have a decent look around the room without being scrutinized for it as he poured the drinks.
Facing away from Garrett, Henk, and the fireplace was the door they entered through, surrounded by, quite frankly, boring decorations one would expect to find in an average den. Paintings, a mounted sword on a plaque, and a full bookshelf. The only possible oddity was that all of the books were completely unmarked, and the mounted blade was tilted slightly askew.
"All due respect, Garrett." Henk looked up at Alistair as he turned back around with the drinks, hoping he'd be able to discern something that he himself could not, especially if this scum didn't keep his end of the bargain. "We had a deal. This place is still standing and you're still alive. All I'm asking for is a little information."
Garrett ignored Henk, accepting the wine from Alistair with a surprisingly polite "Thank you."
Now facing the fireplace, Alistair would finally see something of particular note-- The fireplace itself looked out of place compared to the rest of the room; There was a notable layer of dust coating most of the surfaces in the room, save for the table with the drinks, and yet the fireplace looked pristine.
Coupled with the fact that Garrett himself was sitting awfully close to the fire, it could be inferred that if anything was to be hidden in this room, it would be there.
Taking a long sip of the fine elven brew, Garrett gave a long sigh as he sank into his seat.
"Look, kid, I know I promised you a favor, but I can't go giving away client information. That's bad for business, and bad for me."
Henk felt his fingers grip the arms of the chair. The bastard was in on it.
Alistair Krixus
It still wouldn't be a fair fight for said characters, but Henk would rather not make so much noise.
Rather than cough up the information he'd offered, however, Garrett seemed far more focused on Alistair now, his sunken eyes locked on the blind Dreadlord as he fetched the wine. "A damned fool, that's who." A catlike grin spreads across the man's aging face, teeth perfect and white in contrast to the oily look of his skin. "Your friend has a good head on his shoulders, Espen. I like him already..."
While Garrett's stalling was annoying, and perhaps a bit disconcerting given his sudden fixation on Alistair, it did allow Krixus to have a decent look around the room without being scrutinized for it as he poured the drinks.
Facing away from Garrett, Henk, and the fireplace was the door they entered through, surrounded by, quite frankly, boring decorations one would expect to find in an average den. Paintings, a mounted sword on a plaque, and a full bookshelf. The only possible oddity was that all of the books were completely unmarked, and the mounted blade was tilted slightly askew.
"All due respect, Garrett." Henk looked up at Alistair as he turned back around with the drinks, hoping he'd be able to discern something that he himself could not, especially if this scum didn't keep his end of the bargain. "We had a deal. This place is still standing and you're still alive. All I'm asking for is a little information."
Garrett ignored Henk, accepting the wine from Alistair with a surprisingly polite "Thank you."
Now facing the fireplace, Alistair would finally see something of particular note-- The fireplace itself looked out of place compared to the rest of the room; There was a notable layer of dust coating most of the surfaces in the room, save for the table with the drinks, and yet the fireplace looked pristine.
Coupled with the fact that Garrett himself was sitting awfully close to the fire, it could be inferred that if anything was to be hidden in this room, it would be there.
Taking a long sip of the fine elven brew, Garrett gave a long sigh as he sank into his seat.
"Look, kid, I know I promised you a favor, but I can't go giving away client information. That's bad for business, and bad for me."
Henk felt his fingers grip the arms of the chair. The bastard was in on it.
Alistair Krixus
