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The River Versus: The World At Large
The River Versus: The World At Large
The River Versus: The World At Large
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The River Versus: The World At Large

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This frozen world lies in ruin, betrayed by all who grace her. Glaze awaits, to be ours once more...

 

Delve into the seedy underworld of Glaze in TRV: The World At Large. Clare travels to the city of Lidz to recover a lost wonder that could save her people. However, around every corner a host of thugs, thieves, murderers, and drug addicts stand in her way. Meanwhile, waiting in the shadows, a long forgotten evil prepares to make its return...

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 6, 2021
ISBN9781838149437
The River Versus: The World At Large

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    The River Versus - Alec Davis

    TWAL_FINAL_5.06x7.81_Cover_RGB.jpg

    ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

    Alec Davis: Firstly, I would like to thank, perhaps unconventionally, Tom Davies for working with me on this book. When we started it in 2009 (I think!), I knew next to nothing about writing, and he put up with all my ignorance, inexperience, and ill-conceived ‘edits’ over the years, and it’s largely taken this long to finish the book because I’ve had so much to learn to get my sections even a little close to the standard of his passages of literary excellence. Thanks, Tom. Here’s to someday planning out another time-space diagram in a dingy loft somewhere.

    Secondly, I’d like to thank Jimmy Trippier – I roped him into this project over a decade ago, and since then, there have been many, many gigs, one comic book, and now this novel, all of which have had his beautiful artwork and excellent ideas attached to them. I hope he knows that at this point he’ll never be rid of me.

    Finally, I’d like to thank L. B. Engwerda as she’s put up with a rather large chunk of the TRV extravaganza, whether it be meetings to discuss this nonsense, or us yelling at the top of our lungs into microphones in her house when she was just trying to have a nice evening crocheting dinosaurs.

    ALEC DAVIS

    & TOM DAVIES

    THE RIVER VERSUS

    THE WORLD AT LARGE

    Published by DEATHKAT MEDIA, 2020.

    Manchester, UK. deathkatmedia.com

    Copyright © Alec Davis, 2020

    All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Alec Davis, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

    First Edition 2020.

    Graphic design and typesetting by Jimmy Trippier

    Cover illustration copyright © Jimmy Trippier, 2020

    ISBN 978-1-8381494-3-7

    This novel is set in a fictional, dystopian world and includes violence, drug use and addiction, prostitution, and swearing. Intolerant and savage views of the characters do not reflect that of the authors.

    Contents

    May 24 G19

    May 25 G19

    May 26 G19

    May 27 G19

    May 28 G19

    May 29 G19

    May 30 G19

    May 31 G19

    Epilogue

    Glossary

    Who the hell are they?! Will screamed to his friends as they fled from the hunters through the misty, snow-covered woods.

    Who cares? Darryl replied, gasping for breath. Just keep running or they’ll do us in like they did poor Ben!

    Will, Darryl, Josh, and Dawn continued their desperate scramble through the maze of trees, ever more aware of the band of savages giving chase. Will, Darryl, and Dawn, the most athletic of the four, were consumed by fear and failed to notice Josh fall behind. With lung problems from birth, Josh was ill-equipped to deal with the perilous situation he now found himself in. His worst enemy, it seemed, was his genes.

    I ca-...I can’t keep this up! he cried to the others as pain shot throughout his entire body, but it was too late. They were too far ahead now to hear him gargle on his own blood as rusting steel impaled his body against the rotting bark of a tree.

    Look, over there! Dawn pointed out as she was slashed across the cheek by a protruding branch. A house!

    Let’s go! Darryl shouted as the remaining three friends changed their course. Quick!

    The house was built atop a small hill, its black beams impossible to miss against the snow’s white backdrop. Chopped firewood was piled by the large front door that Will, Dawn, and Darryl prayed was unlocked. They scurried up the hill and burst into the building, slamming the door behind them.

    The living room was small, tidy, quaint. There was a kitchen adjacent and a stairwell leading up. The smell of days-old fireplace filled the air, and there was little decoration to hint at the house’s owner.

    Will, help me with this table, Darryl said. We have to bar the door.

    Why? Will asked. We can’t stay here. Did you see how many of them there were? They’re gonna break down that door and kill us. We need to keep running!

    No, we don’t stand a chance out there. We can’t keep running forever! Darryl tried to drag the table over to the door by himself.

    Darryl’s right, Dawn said, placing a gentle hand on Will’s arm. We have to try and hold out in here. It’s our only chance.

    Wa-...where’s Josh? Will spun around, hoping he’d find his younger brother collapsed on the sofa. Where’s Josh?! For a few moments, no one spoke. Only the sound of their breathlessness filled the silence.

    "No, no, no! Goddammit!" Will cried as he smashed an expensive looking vase from a nearby table.

    Dawn was suddenly grabbed from behind, quickly finding a knife at her throat.

    What are you doing in my house? said the attacker in a manner all too calm for the situation.

    Dawn! Will said.

    "What, are you doing in my house?!" the woman repeated as Dawn’s arms shook from fear.

    Look, lady, Darryl said to the skinny, middle-aged woman with wavy grey hair down to her waist. We were just looking for somewhere to hold out against those nutcases outside.

    "You led them here? The woman threw Dawn across the room and into Will and stormed out the back door. As she passed outside the window they heard her call, Asriel!"

    What’s she doing?! said Will, lifting Dawn to her feet.

    Getting herself killed. Darryl checked out the window. Here, help me bar the doors. Quick! The group piled all the furniture they could move against the doors, and closed the curtains praying they would go unnoticed by the savages outside.

    They weren’t so lucky.

    Darryl, Will, and Dawn soon found themselves barricaded in the house, completely surrounded by feral creatures. None of them had actually caught a proper glimpse of them yet.

    It was time they did.

    Steeling himself, Darryl pushed back the curtain ever so slightly until he could see a few of the barbarians standing outside, shouting and screaming incoherently. They wore a wide array of torn and stained clothes that were no different to what you might expect in Glaze, but with one vital difference – they were branded in blood. The word ‘NYE’ was painted in a sluggish font across every item of clothing that could fit the bold letters.

    Anyone know what ‘nye’ means? Darryl said, finally having recovered his breath.

    No idea, wh-

    The window smashed as a projectile broke through and bounced across the floor.

    Shit! What the hell was that? Will said. Looking at the ground, a whole new kind of fear took hold of them. They looked into Josh’s cold, dead eyes, and the trail of blood that led across the floor up to the severed head. Across his pale cheeks there was an inscription carved into the flesh:

    NYE.

    Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, Dawn said falling to her knees.

    Josh... Will muttered.

    Darryl sat next to Dawn where she’d collapsed, gently grabbing her arm for comfort. Dawn, look at me, he said as he tried to pry her hands from her knees. Dawn, look at me!

    No use. She was gone.

    NYE! NYE! NYE! NYE!

    Only Darryl reacted to the chanting slowly emerging from the chaotic noise outside.

    NYE! NYE! NYE! NYE!

    He turned his attention away from his friends, both living and dead, to approach the window.

    NYE! NYE! NYE! NYE!

    Darryl stood in the centre of the window as a man parted the crowd and stepped forward. The brute challenged the height of a giant. He wore nothing on his top half. ‘NYE’ was scarred across his chest.

    NYE! the brute hollered, causing the others to erupt into a frenzy.

    The war cry died quickly when a metal object landed at his feet. This left the savages in confused silence, until the grenade exploded, killing or maiming half of them in an instant.

    Darryl was knocked back. Stray glass shards impaled his face on either side. Luckily, none hit anything vital, but he was down, and wouldn’t be moving anytime soon. As he lay incapacitated, his ears ringing and his body howling in pain, his thoughts drifted to Will and Dawn, and then to the cries of the savages, and finally to a mysterious roar that eclipsed everything else.

    The cries ceased. Darryl assumed everyone outside to be dead, except for the monster which continued its fearsome bellow intermittently.

    Asriel, the house, Darryl heard from outside. He staggered to his feet, stepped past Dawn and over Will to the front door. In his daze, Darryl opened it. He caught little but a glimpse of what awaited beyond before he was thrown viciously to the floor.

    Darryl’s last sight was that of a giant white creature, tearing the flesh from his face.

    May 24 G19

    ??:??

    Marci? Marcella?! No, no, no, wake up. Dammit, no, wake up. Marci!

    Marci...

    Sir, please come with us. You’re under arrest for the murders of Marcella, Phillip, and Benjamin...

    Marci...was it me? Did...did I kill her?

    The Adina justice council finds you guilty of three counts of murder. Your punishment is life imprisonment.

    No...there’s no way I could have...killed...them...

    ...

    Hey, 204!

    Huh?

    Hey, Prisoner 204, get your ass up! Got ya grub.

    W-where am I?!

    Hahahaha! Memory playin’ tricks on ya again, eh, 204? You’re rotting in Valhalla prison, fool. Get used to it, ya gonna be here a while.

    "Prison...wait....I...I didn’t kill them...I didn’t kill them!"

    "Yeah. Sure."

    Damn, that guy is crazy.

    What do you expect from a guy that murdered his family?

    I didn’t do it...

    God, I hope I didn’t do it...

    ***

    Who are you?! You’re not allowed up... Unnnghh!

    Shit, listen just drop the weapon and we’ll... we’ll... Ughhh!

    What the...?

    I believe this is yours, compensating for something?

    Who the hell are you?!

    I’m your get out of jail free card.

    What? Why? Who are you?

    I don’t have time to explain, we need to get out of here.

    A sword...Sollers class?

    P-please! D-don’t hurt me!

    "Tell your friends to back off! Now!"

    Did I say that?!

    Drop the swords!

    What’s going on?

    Now get down on the floor, hands behind your heads!

    Open the door!

    Okay, okay! Please, I can help you, j-just don’t kill me!

    Open it!

    P-please! I-I’m just a technician, I can get you drugs, get you into Adina premises, whatever you want!

    Where am I going?

    Just come with me!

    ***

    We’re m-miles away from Valhalla now, you’re f-free. There’s, there’s no one following us...I’m no use t-to you anymore...please...

    Arrggghh! My head. Dammit! What’s happening to me?

    17:34

    What am I doing in this desolate place? I’m not cut out for this! Maybe Dad was right, I should have just left the treasures of Glaze to die along with it. However, if I can succeed, there’s a chance that I can save the people of Novus. Pull it together, Clare, you can do this.

    Clare took a deep breath and lifted herself up. She paused to look at herself in a half-shattered, dirty mirror. She was certainly taller than the house’s previous owner – she had to slouch to see her misty grey eyes reflecting back at her. Clare fiddled with her tatty and torn clothes – her disguise. Dressed like this, I almost look like I belong here in Glaze.

    She placed the array of complex-looking devices she’d made herself into a rusting chest, remembering the lessons her father had taught her as a child about the dangers of such technology. Be careful who you expose the existence of these creations to, Clare,’ he’d warned. You have been fortunate enough to grow up with the good people of Novus, who have a deep respect for the comforts our technology provides for them. The citizens of Glaze are not so thankful. Most would go to great and terrible lengths to acquire the items I have taught you to build. The mere knowledge of the science behind them could get you hurt, or worse. Always remember: a stranger is more likely to be a liar or a thief than a kind soul."

    Clare’s father always adopted a bitter tone whenever she asked him about Glaze, littering his answers with evasive replies and vague warnings. She never really knew what had happened to him there – nor was she likely to ever find out – but it was obvious that the place still plagued his thoughts. So much so that when she suggested making the perilous trip north to Glaze to solve Novus’ food-supply problem, he only responded with a blunt, Absolutely not.

    How could she simply sit by and watch her friends and family starve when she could do something about it? Clare remembered the feelings of defiance and guilt that picked at her as she searched through her father’s private files in the middle of the night for the information she needed. The same feelings stayed with her as she traversed the unforgiving snowfields and ice oceans on her custom motorcycle. That had been two days ago, and those feelings had long since passed, but she guessed that was because she was now too frightened to feel anything else.

    Pull yourself together, Clare, you can do this.

    She locked the chest and the door to the small room in the abandoned house that contained it and her vehicle. She wrapped her white coat tightly around herself, paying special attention to hide the remaining devices that she’d chosen to hold on to. One was fastened carefully around her neck, another in her inside pocket. Mustering all the courage she had left within her, she stepped out of the building and looked upon the desolate remains of the town that stood before her.

    The sight of war-ravaged and decayed houses had grown familiar to her over the last few days. She had lost count of the number of ghost towns and abandoned villages she’d passed through on her journey, the number of forgotten homes devoid of occupants buried underneath the endless snow. As she walked out of the city and into the open, a biting-cold wind was unleashed upon her, blowing her long, auburn hair across her face, forcing her to tightly tie it up. She consulted the map that she’d stolen from her father to ensure her direction was correct.

    Sixteen miles to Lidz, she thought. I wish I could’ve stopped closer to it, but I just can’t risk the people of Glaze seeing my motorcycle. I’ll have to walk. The temperature is well below zero and it’ll take just over five hours to get there. If the weather remains like this, I’m not going to last long. How can life possibly exist in this place? What kind of people can endure this much punishment?

    Wrapping her coat tighter still around her, Clare sighed before taking a final look back.

    I have to try. Just walk, Clare.

    Just walk.

    The longer Clare traipsed across the unforgiving terrain, the more she shivered, the more she tired, and the more her back ached from the hefty bag strapped to it. The sun crossed the sky as the hours passed. She began to feel disheartened as the wind continued its relentless assault upon her. The journey was going to take much longer than she had first predicted, and she was rapidly becoming all too aware of it. It would last long into the night, which she knew was tantamount to a death sentence. She needed shelter and she needed it quick.

    Another hour passed and the sun was setting in the west, providing a fleeting distraction for Clare as its brilliance cascaded across the evening sky. It was then that she first heard voices in the distance, carried to her by the wind. She couldn’t make out what they were saying but she didn’t care. I’m not alone anymore! They might even know where I might find refuge…

    It wasn’t until she was much closer that she’d remembered her father’s grim warning: A stranger is more likely to be a liar or a thief than a kind soul.

    Clare’s father had always possessed an annoying tendency to be right about everything. Today she hoped that he was wrong. If he were wrong, she could approach the distant voices without fear, and take comfort in the fact that she’d soon be among good people willing to aid her. She knew that this was unlikely, but she approached all the same. I’d rather take my chances with the liars and thieves than spend a night in the wind and snow. A night where the cold alone could kill me.

    Invigorated by this new hope, Clare sped on through the blizzard. Regardless of how long she headed towards the voices, no matter how fast she ran, they never seemed to get any closer. As breathlessness began to take its toll on her body, she saw the faint outline of structures on the horizon. Not a town or city, but buildings all the same.

    I’m saved!

    When Clare was closer to the buildings, she could see that only one out of the four had a roof remaining. She rushed towards it as quickly as her exhausted body could carry her, but she took a moment to compose herself before opening the door. It was only then that she noticed numerous footprints leading off in the opposite direction through the snow. Have I missed them? Probably. Well, at least I have shelter for the night now.

    She entered the building.

    The interior proved to be more exposed to the chill than Clare had hoped – there were holes in the windows which lined the entire left wall, leaving the room just as cold as outside. At least she was protected from the wind, which went some way towards lifting her spirits. The floor was covered in a mixture of empty food wrappings and fractured bottles. She kicked through the decaying rubbish at her feet as she walked, keeping an eye out for anything useful.

    The next room presented little improvement from the last. It did, however, lack the broken windows which the first room had in spades. She spotted a closed door on the right, which from her brief examination of the exterior of the building she deduced must lead to a completely enclosed room. As she approached the door she could hear shallow breathing. It caught her off-guard. She’d assumed everyone had left, but at least one stranger had remained behind. Her fear once again piqued, but she forced her hand to open the door, albeit hesitantly.

    Clare peeked her head around the door. Um…hello? Is a-anyone there? she said. The only reply was the haunting, shallow breathing. The room was filled with animal furs, small piles of chewed berry pips, and some more empty bottles.

    Does somebody live in this dump? Here? In the middle of nowhere?!

    Clare reluctantly took a few steps forwards so she could see around the corner. The source of the shallow breathing was a dirty, balding man, sat with his legs outstretched and back against the wall. His hands clutched his chest as it quickly expanded and collapsed. She stepped farther round to get a better look at his face. He was middle-aged, with a scruffy beard, and wide eyes that stared only forwards. He did not seem to notice Clare at all.

    Excuse me? Um…h-hello? she said, approaching him slowly. It was then she noticed his hands were covered in blood, his own blood. He clutched at a wound in his chest, which had more likely than not led to a collapsed lung.

    Oh no, are you o-

    She cut herself off before she could finish her obviously stupid question. No, you’re not okay, that wound is fatal.

    You’re going to die.

    T-those…bastards, the man said, his blank gaze unchanging. "Bastards…they took…they took my…"

    Took your what? Clare asked as she knelt down at his side.

    My…my…daughter…they took her…

    I-I’m sorry. Who took her?

    "Men…bastards…bastards…his voice…his ridiculous voice…he took her…she was only nine-years-old…"

    I’m sorry, I d-don’t understand, who took her? Why did they take her?

    The dying man grabbed her arm, staining her bright white coat with his warm blood. She was only…nine-years-old…why…why would you?

    Why w-would you what? Clare awaited a reply but knew she would not get one. The man’s eyes kept their gaze, but his breathing had finally stopped. Clare fumbled backwards, her eyes locked into his. She had never seen anyone die before and she found that she didn’t deal with the experience well. When she finally managed to pull away from his vacant stare, she leant over to gently shut his eyes.

    There were plenty of furs in the room with which she could use to keep herself warm throughout the night, though she would have to spend it with the corpse in the corner, being too weak to move a man of his size. She curled up in the furs facing away from the dead man, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

    I need to rest, I’ve far to travel at sunrise and I will need my strength. Just don’t think about him.

    Yggdrasil had better be worth this.

    ***

    Another day, another needless death. How many bodies must I wade through before I can put an end to all this? I have to get to the bottom of what this guy was up to, what his connection was with the drugs trade over here. Think, Garamonde, think.

    Garamonde shook his head slowly, then forced himself to focus again on the corpse in front of him. The body had once been known as Relham Cook, a two-bit dealer from the town of Lidz, but now it was nothing but another bloody mess. One sharp blow to the head had been enough to end Relham’s sorry life, and warm blood still oozed from his shattered temple. He’s probably better off dead anyway, poor guy. What in the world is he doing in Haldersvelt though, so far from Lidz?

    He started intensely rummaging through the various pockets coating the dead man’s jacket, mumbling to himself as he worked. His brow sweating fiercely as he concentrated, he failed to notice the bedroom door slowly opening behind him.

    Rel, are you in here? Ready for some… The girl in the doorway stopped as dead as poor Relham himself. Garamonde spun round quickly, Oh, I’m sorry. I’m..., but it was too late. She let out a piercing scream and ran frantically from the room.

    Wait! Stop!...Oh, damn it!

    Garamonde forced his portly frame up from the floor, groaning as his heavy body kicked into action. It’s times like these that I wish I’d bothered to stay in shape as a kid. Taking in a deep breath, he sprang from the room in pursuit of the mystery woman.

    The apartment block was a maze of dimly lit rooms and winding corridors, twisting this way and that like a labyrinth. He saw the girl running off further down the hall, stopping only to pick up her fallen bag. He set off after her with massive strides, ignoring the low-lives cautiously emerging from their sorry homes to see what was happening. He was already starting to gasp for air. As he got closer, he desperately tried to call out and explain himself, but it was in vain, and all he managed to muster was a series of pained grunts.

    She darted around a corner, still screaming, and as Garamonde made the turn he saw he was catching up. High heels were not designed for making an escape, and despite his age, he was gaining on her. In her panic, the girl quickly stumbled around another corner, but this one was not the exit she was hoping for. It was a disused elevator shaft with a twelve-floor drop and she was about to plummet down it.

    Her panicked screams took on a different terror as she toppled into the chasm, and only Garamonde’s chunky hand grabbing her wrist prevented her from falling to her death.

    Help! Please help me, don’t let me drop, please! the girl screamed, her wide eyes fixing on Garamonde’s.

    Don’t worry, just stay still and I’ll try to pull you up! Hold on!

    Grabbing the wall to steady himself with his free arm, he summoned all the strength he could muster to heave the shaking girl to safety. Stumbling backwards, they both landed hard on the splintered wooden floor, collapsing from breathlessness. After recovering for a moment, he let out a dazed chuckle, which was quickly mirrored by his new companion.

    Whoa, that was close, eh? he said, his breath finally returning to him.

    Tell me about it! the girl said, before jolting suddenly away from him. Who the hell are you and what did you do to Relham? she shouted, remembering what she had seen in the flat, the temporary relief in her eyes quickly turning to anger.

    That’s what I was trying to tell you! My name is Garamonde, Garamonde Altuna. I’m a private investigator. I’ve been researching the drugs trade across Glaze and that led me to your friend in there. Unfortunately, it seems it led someone else to him first.

    The girl began to shake, bursting into tears at the shock of what had happened.

    Hey, come here, he said, taking her into his arms. She was a pretty girl, skinny, with pale white skin in stark contrast to her long, dark blue hair.

    Steady yourself, Garamonde, she’s young enough to be your daughter!

    I-I’m sorry, the girl spluttered. I just can’t believe that he’s dead.

    Was he your boyfriend?

    Oh, no, no! We were…I mean…he was…a client.

    Ah, I see. Garamonde had come across plenty of prostitutes whilst investigating the drug-fuelled underground of Glaze, but she was easily the youngest he had encountered and couldn’t have been out of her teens.

    I’m sorry, she said. I’m okay now…sorry I ran away, it was just such a shock to see him like that. I thought you were gonna kill me!

    Garamonde smiled, crinkling the sides of his weathered face. Don’t worry about it! I am going to need to ask you a few questions though, is that okay? I’ve already contacted the authorities, they’ll take good care of Relham’s body and see that everything is in order. What’s your name?

    Her green eyes, now calm, lit up as she smiled. I’m Jewel, pleased to meet you.

    Pleased to meet you too, Jewel. Sorry I gave you such a shock back there, I shouldn’t have left the crime scene open like that. Garamonde knew how to handle an investigation, but still had a troubling tendency to make unfortunate little mistakes. I’ll tell you what, I’ll take you to go get a nice warm drink, you could use one to stop that shaking and it’ll be a good chance for us to talk.

    That would be great, Jewel said, smiling at him once more. Taking him by the arm, Jewel took one last look back towards her dead lover as they walked out of the building.

    18:15

    Tzen quietly stalked his prey. Like any of the more refined hunters, he was prepared to wait, to bide his time until his quarry was at its weakest, at its most afraid.

    Its most alone.

    Hours passed, darkness falling ever deeper across the barren face of Glaze. His prey was becoming noticeably tired, growing cold. No longer was it looking for the safety of home, a warm bed and a comforting sleep, now this weary man was simply looking for shelter anywhere. Disorientated, lost, and hungry, he cried out to the horizon. Help! Anyone...?

    Desperate. Helpless. Vulnerable. 

    The perfect time to make my move…

    ***

    Garamonde slung his long, well-worn brown leather jacket over the back of his chair before slouching into it with a happy sigh. It felt as though he hadn’t sat down for days, and while Hummels Café wasn’t exactly the most welcoming place in Haldersvelt, at that moment he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

    He glanced over at Jewel. You wouldn’t have guessed what she had just been through. Her shaken exterior had given way to a bright, relieved one. She was full of energy and talking at an incredible speed. Questioning this girl is going to be a piece of cake!

    Rel had been seeing me for about three months I think, the girl said, stopping only to take small sips of her warm berry ale. He said he was in Lidz on business but never really said what it was that he did, I always kind of suspected he might be involved in something dodgy though! Not that I liked being with someone like that, it’s just…Cells are Cells, right? I need them to survive, and he was a nice enough guy, you know?

    This girl goes on a bit, that’s for sure. But she has a connection to my investigation, even if she doesn’t really know it herself, and that’s enough of a lead for me. I need to find out what Relham was doing out here. Hell, I’ll keep her around, if nothing else it’ll be nice to have a pretty girl about for a while.

    Did he ever go into any detail about what he was up to here? Garamonde asked Jewel. Mention any names, anything like that?

    I don’t think so, though we didn’t do that much talking in fairness. Although…he did see David quite regularly.

    David? Who’s that?

    You don’t know him? He’s a trader out on Castlegate, a really nice, old guy. Rel had been visiting him, think he said that he was helping him source items for something, not sure what exactly. Is that any help?

    "You know what, it might just be, it might just be. Any chance you can come along and introduce me to this David? It’d be a real help with my investigation. I’m looking to take down the drugs trade polluting Glaze, chances

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