Greeb Shazalaam lurched forward in his rotting rags towards the riverbank, heaving in a deep rasping breath. Bones and muscle ground with a jaw-clenching sound as it neared the edge of the banks. The monstrosity bent over the river, pooling water in his cupped hands to rinse his face. The journey to these lands had been great, and the vaguely human hulk had a chance to relax in the cool water, looking like a gross collection of meat, protruding bones, and rotting cloth.

Greeb Shazalaam slurped from the riverside, rinsing dried blood from his crooked jumble of teeth. His stomachs grumbled inside at the sudden introduction of matter to it, and urged him forward to find nourishment. A building, large and white, awaited him up ahead. "Wing City Hospital" The sign read near it. Food.

Greeb Shazalaam shambled out of the treeline, a bag of cobbled flesh, bone, and muscle. The abomination seemed to both drag itself forward with the multitude of hands and stubby arm-like appendages protruding from it's form, and also push itself with the equally abundant scatter of legs. The monster sunk it's form down close to the riverbank, a disgusting hunk of tissue poisoning the beauty of the view. From one of the many eyes that adorned the sagging mass of a head he spied Elizabeth Greemes, harpoon at the ready.
Greeb thought of returning to the treeline before the weapon could be turned on him, but... this one could have something that he could profit on, hopefully something easy to carry like information.

Greeb Shazalaam eyed the creature warily, keeping the harpoon within his vision as he picked his words. She was tall, much taller than him even for all of his girth, and he felt as if she was looking down at him as if he was a worm, which wasn't far from the truth.
"Yes, yes, greetings to you as well." The rasping voice wheezed out of the monster, a sly grin spreading on his face that Greeb thought looked friendly, but was mistaken. "Here for a picnic?" He asked, wheedling. If he could get a conversation started, maybe he could learn something from whatever small talk that came up. Maybe get some directions around town to somewhere that would be loaded with people. Plus, perhaps he might snag a weakling and get a yummy snack.

Greeb Shazalaam eyed the harpoon in the dirt again, wondering what the creature greeted now. He turned to scan the reeds she adjusted to look at, and saw nothing. Maybe the creature was crazy? "It's rare that anybody is out here on the riverbanks." He hissed, still scanning the reeds for whatever may have been there. He didn't seem to notice the scaly form in their midst, and ignored the area entirely now.
"How did you come to be down here on such a nice day?" Greeb's voice dripped with bait and poison, like a snake trying to seduce it's prey.

Greeb Shazalaam looked back to the water at the mention of fish. A meal would be nice as of now, but Greeb pushed his hunger aside. "Why not purchase some fish in the city?" He asked, wheezing still.

Greeb Shazalaam swiveled to glare at the river, scanning it once again for the person that now two people said was in it. He nearly missed the glint of scales, but one of his other, sharper eyes caught sight of it, and he grinned his crooked smile. As for the person in the tree, they probably weren't dangerous, and with the small crowd that seemed to have gathered, he would probably find one amongst them who could unknowingly grant him some glint of information that somebody would pay him for.
"I would have thought a riverbank would be a quiet place, but it seems I'm wrong." Greeb gave a moist cough and smile at the boy.
"Also here to fish?"

Greeb Shazalaam felt like snarling as the blade came out, but retained his composure. No need getting jumpy just yet, the fun was just beginning, and if worse came to worse the skinny Elizabeth would make a good toothpick. Flicking to meet the gaze of Samuel, Greeb would pull his lips back from his teeth, baring them in what he felt was a nice gesture for greeting. multitudes of crooked yellowed fangs gleamed dully from within his maw at the boy.
"Nice hood." Greeb wheezed as he spoke, still keeping the knife in his vision. To any onlooker, it would seem as if he was nervous, or simply had indigestion. Possible one of the carcasses he ate.

Greeb Shazalaam noted the popularity of disappearing into the river and thought of perhaps learning how to do it later on in the future. It looked useful.
"She made it from another world to this one, but she only has a bow and, well, she had a knife." Greeb gave a chuckle that quickly changed into a rasping cough. "You'll have to show me that whole disarming trick. Might help out sometime."

Greeb Shazalaam eyed the exploding butterflies with trepidation, settling into the riverbank to watch the exchange of magic. Somehow Samuel's mention of not being able to teach him felt snide, or maybe just cold. But Greeb wasn't known for his judge of character.
"Say would either of you know anything about where some good grub, excluding nasty fish, could be found?" He smiled again, looking from one to the other.

Greeb Shazalaam chuckled as Samuel asked if he could trust him. He was delighted that he had asked. There was no way in the world that he would ever keep his secret, unless he paid him more than the highest bid was. But, no need to tell him that. He looked frail enough to be broken with a quick bite. Sliding along as Sam gestured for him to follow, he grinned widely at Melissa, revealing all of his wicked teeth again. "It's our pleasure to meet you..." He laughed, deep and menacing. More information for the taking.
"Sadly, I'll have to be going. Maybe I'll catch you at gambits." With another chuckle, he vanished off into the gloom.

Greeb Shazalaam slithered his way into the bar, his mass of flesh and limbs pushing its way through the door with considerable effort. The monster scanned over it, surprised to have found it as deserted as it was. The rumors had said that this place was crowded with little snacks, and information too. Sadly, it was pitiful in comparison to what he had heard. "Might as well not waste this..." Greeb wheezed, struggling towards a smattering of tables and chairs to rest at.
"Bring me something!" He shouted to the counter, which appeared to be manned by a machine.

Greeb Shazalaam grumbled as the machine inquired as to what he wanted. Greeb didn't much care, but he knew he couldn't pay. The beast crawled half of his slug-like body up onto the table, resting himself on it with a content sigh. "Something with gravy on it..." He wheezed, eying the bartender with disdain. "And something fizzy to drink." One of his smaller eyes caught sight of the glimmer of light on water in the corner, and he swivelled himself to look in the direction of the anomaly.

Greeb Shazalaam watched the dark corner with as equal an amount of intrigue as the person within the shadows. Greeb snatched the gravy smothered mystery meat from the robot server's hands and crammed half of it into his maw, chomping it in a manner that would disgust any civilized creature in the bar.
"Hello?" He called out to the shadows, feling tense, but not letting it show in his voice. He sounded sly, in control.

Greeb Shazalaam shrugged at the noise from the shadows, sliding off the table as he devoured the rest of the meat. "No use anyways... those contraptions will have me washing dishes soon if I stick around for a sound in the shadows." With that, the ugly mass moved out of the door, again with considerable effort, and sauntered off into Wing City.

Off in one of the many rooms of Gambit's Hotel, stowed away on a small hill of oddly colored pillows, Greeb Shazalaam reclined into his thronelike pile of cushions, observing the two meatheads that served as primitive guards. They did alright when it came to the usual peasant, but the usual occupants of Gambit's could bowl both of these muscles on legs over in just a second. However, they did serve some purpose, because one of his goons had brought him quite the nice gift.
Wren Sunchaser.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Wren." Greeb gave a chuckle, his multitude of eyes rolling around madly as phlegm overfilled his several mouths, dribbling onto the pillows. It most certainly explained the odd colors on the pillows now.
"As I understand it, we have unfinished business. A certain number of things which are... Important to- heh- men like me." His voice grated in its alien tone, scathing in a way.
The meathead that had escorted Wren gave a guffaw as well, starting the rest of the idiots into a chorus of deep, fake sounding laughter. Greeb glared at them, and they stopped immediately.

Greeb Shazalaam chuckled again, leaning forward on the mound to look more closely at her. "As I am aware, the Hospital is to the east. Not the south." His tone hinted at his curiosity, but even the untrained ear could hear that he was more interested in getting her to finish the job.
"I paid you good money for that painting. I gave you extra so that you could afford the extra supplies you needed for infiltration. Melancolie is very, very precious. And I expect you to finish through with our deal. I am not one to be pushed." Greeb settled back into the pillows eyeing the girl.
"Damn furries... always trying to pull tricks."

Greeb Shazalaam mulled over this new information, flicking his eyes up over her small form. She would make a lovely snack, despite the fur. She was mostly bone, and that made for extra crunch in every bite.
"If it entices you further to complete this contract... I do happen to know just the person to get you off this planet." Greeb leaned in, chuckling again. "But it'll cost you extra to get in contact with this guy. The Aschen are coming down hard, and tickets offworld are slim, if existant at all. But then again, there is only one Melancolie..."

Greeb Shazalaam would look curiously at Wren now. Anything he needed? There was something he needed, much more than Melancolie. "You know, now that you mention it... there is something else you can do for me, a sort of two birds with one stone kind of job." Greeb's laugh overflowed with malice.

"Oh, nothing much. I just require a certain thorn removed from my copious side. The current owner of the Melancolie is a petty crime lord. He and I have clashed on several levels, hence why I nest in a hotel room and not in a exquisite manor. If you want your ticket out of here, you'll be sure that he won't bother me any further."