Literature
Journal of 81-25: Day 5.5
Day 5.5 - The Watch at Duscliffe
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We regrouped at the clubhouse as the sun began to fall. The earlier frustration hadn’t gone anywhere, but it had settled—pushed down, contained. There was still another “job” to deal with, and this one would take us into Duscliffe.
Disguises came first.
Everyone took on something different, something that wasn’t them. Goat Man, for his part, claimed to take the form of his “brother.” I didn’t question it. I didn’t need to. Changing form is effort, preparation, intent. For me, it’s just… movement.
We headed out shortly after, making our way toward the bridge that led into Duscliffe. The area felt quieter than the rest of the city, or maybe just more contained. Either way, there was a guard posted at the crossing.
He stopped us.
Routine at first. Questions. Purpose. Why we were heading in at this hour.
We gave him enough to work with.
That’s when he brought her up—the old woman.
His tone shifted, not