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You kindy [i:lit]feel[/i:lit] there's someone in the room behind the BossMan's high table (Judge's seat), but you're not completely sure. It smells heavy of Humie, but so does the rest of this place. And the walls are thick too; carnt hear nuffin, even with yerz Gobbtastic Earin Orn.
The keyhole's small, and the door's big n thicky. Made to keep things schtum in there. Bet there's heapy goodies behind this door.
Then you [i:lit]feel[/i:lit] the steps coming behind the biggy door and you sprint, just making it behind one of the Courtroom's pillars when you hear the doorknob turn.
The man wot comes out is big and brisk. Dresses like the tuffy normies you found at cottage island: thick coat wiv big collars, full sleeves n pants. He's wearing a thicky longy choppa (machete) in a tarp scabbard, full metal arm n leg bracers. Two leather belts across the chest, wiv pouchies; one of them has a gold chain drooping out of it. He touches it to make sure it's there as he stands in the doorway.
He closes the Schtum Room (Judge Chambers) behind him, doesn't lock it, goes out the Courtroom. You hear his steps on the stairs; going to the second floor or the roof, mebbe.
You take a fast peek in the Schtum Room. No windows, no second door or floor, low ceiling; fully enclosed. Easily made a bunker or killbox.
Next the door is a pollax, a winchbow with a roll of bolts, a satchel wiff
>snff
Boom putty, iron, lamp oil in. You don't touch any of it.
Like the Books Room on the second floor this place is packed up: carpets rolled and hoisted vertical, desk pushed to the wall, shelves emptied, books and papers boxed. Couch and armchair pushed together in one corner to make a bed. Booz cabinet almost next to it, half empty. Bottles crystal, in neat rows onna floor in front of the cabinet. You take one of many identical; his favrit.
You smell metal, lots of it; good fikk Dorfy steel. You follow it: hidden in the legspace of the desk that's been pushed to the wall is a safe. So! [i:lit]Heres[/i:lit] phat lewts!
>but nerhh
>if all derr ruggs innere iz rolled
>whyzer one unnada safe [i:lit]notz[/i:lit] rolled
You cop a feel unnada safe-rugg and find sumfin... stoney. Roundy around, but wif angular fikkniss. Feels like... crock tile? Flagstone?
You reach furva, palm and grope the face of it with yer thinny thievy fingies.
...ahh! A Telly Hoppa! Probly made by the same Fighty Wizzy wot made Sordyfagg's.
An' deres a lewt-hump (backpack) n fings on top of the desk...The BossMan is reddy to scarper, feels like.
You've spent a full minute snoopen n gropen. Long enough.
You peel the door a little; no footsteps. You break out, make through the courtroom, hug the walls in the court foyer, out of the light of just two low lamps, just wait.
He comes down from a service ladder leading to the roof manhole, doesn't come down; goes to the Books Room, potters, then down, with a brace of ledgers in hand.
He can't sleep and is trying to be useful. You've never had either of those problems.
