Chapter 1 - A beginning, and an end
_He sat in the bar, replaying the events of the day over a shot of whisky, single malt. A cigarette in the other hand, just to calm his nerves. He barely smoked these days, the priests had told him it was a sin. He had told them it was a sin how much they charged for them, those death dealers who smiled through through rotten teeth.
It had started like any other day. He had woken up cold and alone, hunched over in the park to keep what warmth he had left in his body. The gardener… Martin was his name, looked at him with a glance that was not unkind, but simply uncaring. He knew it was time to move on, that a few more nights here might see him put in the lockup for loitering, but where else would a detective down on his luck stay? The inns weren't cheap, and it wasn't like he had someone to stay with.
Pulling himself to his feet, he patted his pockets, just to make sure his universe was in order. Dagger, check. Shortsword, check. Hatchet, check. Mace, check. Back in the old days, he'd only ever carried a skinning knife and a sling, but this city was a lot more dangerous than any he'd been to before. Even if the weapons weighed him down, it would keep him alive.
Shield on his back, taken from a hobgoblin down south who wouldn't need it anymore. The cloak that helped keep the weather out from a gang of thugs that of all things, were hoarding books. Leathers from a kinfolk who had treated Zippy with kindness, even if it was just so he could make a few coin.
Herbs, magical vials, a few trinkets here and there... nothing major. He was pretty sure that if a mage looked at him, he wouldn't even set off their magical radar or whatever the hell it was they used to pick up things that used the Weave. That was probably the one weakness he had that he admitted to, a lack of knowledge of the wheretos and whyfors of magic. It left him in the small leagues, hunting the little fish while the priests and minstrels went after the big game. Something to look into later... maybe take a night class.
Anyway, everything that he'd had the night before was still there, even the pounding headache. Maybe an apple would fix that, so off it was to the market.
The sun was barely above the horizon, but the markets were in full swing. Everyone knew that the only way to get the best was to be there early, which was why the merchants put out the worst at daybreak and saved the best for their "special" customers, you know, the ones who would pay double and not flinch. Special in the same way as the half orc dockworkers who'd not think twice about putting their fist through your head if you looked at them funny, but didn't know how to get two gold change from a platinum piece when they bought a kebab.
Whilst the haggling was normally a source of amusement for him, today he just didn't have the patience for it. Slapping down a gold piece, he scooped up an apple and wandered off to eat it in peace.
Down the alley between the tailor and some toff's estate he walked. Dolvaks was only a few doors down, and he might have work for the detective, but this headache had to go first or he wouldn't be able to think straight. Not thinking straight was what had led him here in the first place, agreeing to chase a thief across three realms for a pretty dame.
Suddenly, a scream broke through his early morning haze. His instincts took over as he ducked into the shadows and tried to discern the direction that it had come from. His hindbrain looked around for intelligence nearby, hoping to find a mind to touch. The markets behind him were still buzzing, drowning out most anything else, but then... a spark. Over behind the Bardic College.
He thanked his cousin Baldrak silently for the lessons he'd given him those many years ago, and quietly moved through the alleys and backways to where he'd picked up the mind. The first thing that he'd picked up on was the blood. There was a lot of it, dark like wine and just as intoxicating. The second was the eyes peering at him from the shadows ahead... there for a moment and then gone.
The third, well, that was the deceased. A young woman, probably seen no more than twenty five summers. She wouldn't see another either. Her clothing, what there was of it, was torn and bloodied, her jugular severed. Blonde hair with brown roots, slim frame but wide hips, and crazed blue eyes staring up at the sky.
The cause of death seemed pretty clear, massive blood loss from that wound. From a guess, he'd say she was a member of the "Courtesan's Guild" that operated in the city here... a quick search of the bag that lay beside her confirmed it. Name was Elenore Brown, worked under the alias of Lilly. A few gold in her bag, and some tools of the trade along with choking powder and a tanglefoot bag. Guess a lady had to defend herself somehow, and those were the sorts of things that didn't leave marks.
The scream would have attracted others attention though, so time was of the essence. The guardswoman Lisa was likely to turn up shortly and there were questions he did not want to answer, like why he was rifling through a dead woman's belonging and NOT going for the guard himself.
Whilst he was pretty sure he could get himself out of that jam if he had to, he really preferred to not push his luck, especially with how bad it had been lately. And those eyes that had stared at him out of the darkness... that was something that he could probably put down as a clue.
Using the skills he was born to, he quickly shimmied up a nearby gutterpipe onto the rooftops and took off for the safety of the town hall eaves. People never looked above their own eyeheight, and who would suspect that a hin was hiding above them, mere yards from the watchhouse? Plus, from there he could head out in any direction across the city easily.
He was right to leave when he did, less than thirty seconds later Lisa had arrived with a few other guards. Since the days of the vampire attacks, they never arrived on the scene in less than a pair, preferably a trio. They wouldn't find anything he didn't, so he moved on to think in solitude.
It wasn't a robbery, unless she had something that was more important than coin. Random murder was unusual in the city, most suspicious deaths were solved in minutes by the perpetrator confessing that "they dun did it, it were an accident, he dun mean to hit him so hard!" Add to that the glowing eyes from the shadows that he KNEW had seen him, and he knew there was something very odd happening here.
Elenores life had ended, may the gods give her peace. But this was a beginning for him, a new case. More than that though, it was a mystery. An unusual death in the daylight, a pair of glowing eyes, and who knew what else?
Just as he finished recalling the events of the day, the door to the bar swung open. The normal background level of chatter disappeared as the streetlight outlined the figure there. It was a woman, and one that he knew well, although there were times he wished he didn't._
