“All right, I’ll do it,” you grumble. “But I’ve got one quick request. It’s dangerous tonight, and I’m unarmed. If you can get me a simple polearm, I’ll feel a lot safer.”
You’re having a hard time reading his expression as he thinks it over. Then he laughs, and puts his crutch down.
“Should be able to make something out of that,” he says, limping off. “I’ve got a spare.” He drags Harbottle off with him and heads back inside.
Well, it does look about the right length and thickness to be a half-decent weapon. No mudpike, but a good deal better than nothing.
But you have no doubt he left it where he did to bait you out into the open. If you take it, he’s going to see you.
Granted, all he’s going to see is a purple uniform… and, at that, you’ve still got that woman’s diving mask. That should hide your face even better than your uniform does, but you feel a little wary about what might happen if he sees your outfit and goes poking around into the Marshguards. You feel like it might not end well, even if you aren’t sure exactly how.
Maybe it’s best to leave the crutch there. But then again, if you could construct a better disguise with what’s at hand, you think it would be worth the risk.