A days extra research. It's what Arne asked for— and it's what led to Claude scouring through the library for six hours.
As a result, he ended up forming a timeline of the life of Crysta's abusive father. And it was for that same reason that he found a glaring six year gap in the man's resume.
He crashed on the stairs of the library knowing where he needed to go next.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the man's home.
He was still asleep— snoring, when the sun began to rise and the lock on the front door began to twist.
Frosty was up in an instant and jumping down the stairs, transforming into his humanoid form as he fell.
He landed with a crash, dark-tanned skin, dense muscle and white steaked hair similar to Claude's own.
As soon as the door opened and the middle aged man stepped inside, Frosty ripped a book off the shelf.
As he yanked the man completely inside and slammed him against the wall, he smashed the open book into his face.
"Aye— not too rough, please." Claude said as he tumbled down the stairs wiping sleep from his eyes. "Good job, though. I had….dreams."
Frosty huffed in understanding— completely fine as the man flailed and yelled in a panic. Frosty spun around and let off a series of angered barks in the man's face, terrifying him into a state of silence.
Claude hopped out of the back window. Frosty sprinted after him and jumped out, landing outside in his Wolven form that he was more comfortable— and less naked, with.
The two sprinted through the trash and snow littered alleyways until they were a safe enough distance away to return to the main streets.
There was little to no activity. It was still early morning. Stores were still opening. Late to exit Nightrunners returning from Tangents and Infested Areas were still in the midst of bringing in beast parts and bags of loot.
Claude fought off a shudder at the sight of Lizardfolk heads hanging from the back of a horse and elf ears looped through a necklace hanging from an Archer's neck.
"[Well, this morning has started swimmingly.]" Arne said.
"He says in a place with next to no swimmable water." Claude replied.
"[I swim in the dark ocean depths of your psyche. So the metaphor works for me.]"
"Uh-huh…" Claude replied.
"[Now, where were we?]" Arne asked as they passed a butchers shop. "[And pay attention.]"
"Last night, I broke into a library in search of a name. The name of Crysta's father. Along with his home address. I planned to pay him a visit for what he did to her throughout her childhood. You convinced me to…. Plan harder—"
"[More thoroughly.]" Arne interrupted.
"I did. With your help we found him. John Bergeron. Living on the cities outskirts with a twenty acre plot of land. Occupation, High-Craftsman. He's known to have sold a number of weapon designs to the Frostborn Guild— specializing in bows and repeater crossbows. His life's been well documented. Except for a six year gap in his thirties around the time Crysta was born. In light of your story about the issues with emotion-fueled righteousness, we're going to background check him through the criminal network."
"[Yes, but I forgot to tell you before you rudely fell asleep on me that we can't do so at the Enforcer's Precint here.]"
"What? Why?" Claude asked.
"[Well for one, you're still wearing the gear-set of a hero affiliated with Raiding crews. Remember? The furballs genius heist.]"
Claude looked down at his armor and tried to ignore the memory of first time waking up in the frosted city.
"[Secondly, whatever possible criminal happening related to Mr. Bergeron would happen under alias. Or…. He's now under alias. We'll be searching for similar names in nearby cities. It's a shot in the dark— but Lupines can see better than most.]"
"Right."
With nothing left to do, Claude and Arne consulted a map. They'd been all throughout the frozen woods further north and to the east, so they went west. To a Village-City Mapleflake.
The travel wasn't any longer or more arduous than his past travels so he spent it on foot.
Mostly to burn off the overwhelming predatory energies spinning within him every morning as a result of his new mode of being.
The sparsely sprinkled Tangents floating across the white expanse watched their journey like celestial eyes from start to finish.
Which wasn't too far.
Only forty-miles.
***
Wednesday Afternoon October 2nd, 2240. Mapleflake Village-City.
Claude and Frosty arrived to the small Village-City with a few layers of frozen hides and tied down collections of blood-pinked bone.
"[Ahhh…. coming to new lands with something to offer is always a good idea. The greed of man is always so easily played on.]" Arne mused.
"I'm about to throw this at somebody, where's the precint?" Claude thought.
"[Easy! Let's get a couple coins and solidify our plan before making any moves. Surely you won't regret that.]"
He in fact did not regret selling the hides after finding himself seated in a tavern with a plate of pan seared elk and rare mushroom coffee.
Frosty sat across from him in human—ish? Form wearing a large cloak and little else. He used his hand to reach across the table they occupied and shove Claude's plate closer.
"[You haven't touched your food, mate.]" Arne said.
Claude sat silently watching the meat. With every blink, the slab changed from what he purchased to what he killed.
Elk meat. Cooked. Seasoned. Sauces.
Blink.
Steppe-Orc face. Slashed and pulsing with warm blood from the hideous wounds. Wounds he made with his hands. Hands that were black skinned and shrouded in fur with long claws.
Then he blinked again.
Everything was back to normal.
"[Youre like…. if we made a vegan a lupine.]"
"What the hell is a vegan?"
"[Hmm…. I forgot you're poor.]"
"Thanks for that."
"[Yes…]"
Claude pushed away the plate and sipped the coffee.
Frosty pushed it back and quietly barked at him.
Claude sighed.
"[Man. I'm sorry, Claude.]"
"For what?"
"[Well— and I know this is improper of me, but sometimes I feel like me being here… in your mind, is not a second chance. It's penance.]"
"For the brothel?" Claude asked.
"[No, you melt, for the whole thing. My whole life. Starting as a boy in search of family. Then revenge. Then excess to dull the pain my sharpest sword-slashes failed to. I wasn't a good man. Even with all my good fortune and luck. I was the cause of countless unneeded deaths. I was born into royalty in Arthuria. I left it because of my own ego and rage. Instead of dying like the average inexperienced, I lived. I evolved. With the help of a master of masters, I became something more. And still, I'm to thank for the erasure of Romulus' brood.]"
Claude took another sip of the earthy coffee.
"[Now look at me. Here. I am. In the mind of my opposite. You didn't run away from home. Yours was ripped out of your hands and twisted into hell. You're not inexperienced. But you don't have the luck and opportunities I did. Now….. I watch you suffer. I… wish there was more I could do. ]"
Claude felt an odd sense of guilt suddenly. He scrambled.
"You done?" He asked.
"[…..wha—]"
"Because I've been trying to eat for the last eight minutes."
Claude forced himself to cut into the meat with his knife and fork. Sometimes elk, sometimes not.
He stabbed the cut chunk and brought it to his mouth.
The smell saved him. It didn't smell like death. Just seasonings and charcoal fire.
He ate it.
It was awful.
Frosty looked up from his slab of meat that he ate bare handed and smiled.
"Mmm…good stuff." Claude said with a nod at Frosty.
"[Mate—]"
Before Arne could say anything else, a lady stood at their table.
Claude and Frosty turned to face the figure standing before them.
It was a woman. On the taller side and slim in frame. She wore a silk black dress with animal furs made into an over cloak. She was tan skinned and kept her hair in a tight braid at the back of her head.
"[Witch.]" Arne said just as Claude noticed her veins glowed blue around her neck and wrists.
She looked between Claude and Frosty.
"Handsome. You two twins?"
"Yea." Claude replied.
She stood, silently looking between them both.
"Is there something you want?" Claude asked eventually.
"You brothers aren't locals are you?"
"No, why?" Claude asked.
"You're strong. That's not really a thing around here. It's too cold."
Claude raised an eyebrow.
"Strength comes from awareness…. and endurance." She started, "You—" She pointed at Claude, "spent the last ten minutes scenting your food. Not to mention you both smell like outside snow and ice. And you didn't come on horseback. You ran. At least forty miles. Impressive by the way."
Claude felt his hackles raise. Literally, fur was beginning to sprout along his back and neck.
Frosty quietly began to growl.
"I'm here to offer an opportunity." She said.
"[An opprotunity from a blue veined witch in a wintery tavern? Excuse my misogyny but thrash this b—]"
"Not interested." Claude said.
The witch didn't seem bothered. "If you want this Village-City to still exist in a weeks time, then I think you would be."
She pressed a hand on the table. Rune work and glowing shapes expanded from her palm. Her hand fell into the table like it was made of water. She pulled out a scroll.
"I've been working this quest for three months. A little help from a couple able-bodied studs like yourself would be wonderful. Or else this place will be crawling with cannibals in days." The witch winked at them both and walked out of the tavern.
As she did, she called after them.
"Consider it. Children will die.... which is kind of what isn't supposed to happen in the presence of heroes! Later, handsomes!"
Frosty calmed the second she left.
"[I wonder if she knows she just flirted with a dog.]"
"Let's get back to the task at hand."
"[Carry on. And thanks.]"