LibriumArcana.Games

Episode 1 - The Rise



Location: Old Town District, Crystal City
Time: One (1) Week Ago

She was lithe and fair skinned, wearing a dress of forest green, the tasseling near the hem made it look like pine needles flitted about her hips. Her eyes were deep green in color, outlined in the touch of mascara so in fashion in the Megatropolis society now adays, and her lips painted in a hue which complimented her dress. Her ears had the slight points to them, that indicated she wasn't human, or Elf, along with her athletic figure, indicated she was Hylian, one of the natives of former world of Hyrule.

Her name was Thali, and she was on her way home from a night of, what she considered, wonderful excess. It had started off well, going out to the 'Deku Club' with several of her friends from work, drinks, dinner, dancing. She had even met a lovely Asari Maiden - so odd really, to see a Asari in Old Town, they usually went to the Megatropolis where everything was newer, more modern - and the two had hit it off wonderfully.

They talked and danced and even touched for most of the night, and Thali was certain she had found someone special, and they promised to meet up for drinks another time.

By most anyone's standards, the night had gone perfect! And now, here she was, under the streetlight near her brownstone apartment building, looking for her keys in her handbag. Her landlord would be angry if she had to buss him to let her in at THIS hour of the morning! They had to be here somewhere.....

"Looking for something?" a sinuous voice purred nearly in Thali's ear, causing her to startle and spin around. Standing before her, was the Asari from earlier, Ni'shate O'kem. Thali smiled at seeing her new acquiataince, before absent mindedly digging back in her handbag, "Just my keys...I'm not sure where they are..sure I had them in her..." Thali's eyes raised as she heard the jangle of metal against metal, and looked to the keyring held between Na'shate's fingers.

"You dropped them at the club...I saw and picked them up. Followed you so I could bring them back."

Thali smiled and grabbed the keys, before giving her Asari friend a hug and then a slow kiss, "Oh thank you Ni'shate! I don't know what I would have done!"

The Asari maiden merely smiled, having returned the Hylian's kiss, but her arm hadn't left the girl yet, "Well...I know we said we'd meet later for drinks....and well, it is later..." A seductive tone had crept in Ni'shate's voice, and Thali grinned herself at the suggestion. "Why don't you come up to my place?? I have a bottle of Caspian Wine straight from Figaro we can open up..."

The two women, hands held, walked up the brownstones steps, and disappeared into the building.


-------------

Today

The alley was wide, barely light, and filthy. Festooned amongst the refuse which littered the streets, were countless places to hide a body, much less oneself, where it would never be found - simply collected with the rest of the trash when a Cleaner made it's sweep.

So why in the unholy name of the Glitch, had the Cannibal chosen to leave the body in the middle of the alley, where it merely waited a light to shine upon it? A light that did shine, when a man had got into his car this morning, and put on his headlights.

It had to be the Cannibal, Detective Wake thought looking at the mangled remains. In his ten years on the Police Force. Wake had never seen a body treated with the callousness that the Cannibal had, as if they were just LonLon carcasses, instead of former sentient. The body was butchered like aq LonLon's to - skinned, it's guts removed sometime ago to halt any additional spoiling, chunks of flesh just cut away, as if someone had just taken bites out of the body.

Undoubtedly forensics would show that the body was still alive when the bites and cut slabs were taken from it, that painkillers and anathestics had coursed in the blood stream - not enough to degrade the taste, but enough to take the edge off the victims pain. The flesh and guts wouldn't be found - but the time of death would only be within the last standard day cycle.

Wake felt sick to his stomach at the thought. Admittedly, over the past three months, he had seen more than his share of this. The Cannibal had begun operating in Old Town, and so far violated every one of the unspoken rules that it seemed everyone on Transverse followed. As a matter of fact...it didn't seem like the Cannibal followed ANY rule Wake could think of. And that scared him.

It scared him a great deal.

Even the layout of the body was like something out of a suspense movie - the remains were displayed in the middle of the

"DNA scan done Detective," came the slightly reverberating voice of the Turian CCPD's lead Crime Scene Tech, his omnitool hovered over his left arm, undoubtedly giving him a great deal of information, "It's the missing Asari Maiden, Ni'shate O'kem."

Wake dug attempted to remember where he heard the name, "Wasn't she reported missing a little over a week ago?"

The Turian inclined his head in a human nod, and Wake rubbed his eyes, "Looks like the Cannibal is branching out into different species now. Alright, I'll be making my report to the Council in a few hours."

The Turian nodded, and directed started directing the rest of his forensics people to wrap up work and begin clean up. The morgue would be by to collect to body shortly, and a full autopsy could be conducted back in Megatropolis.

Wake shuddered as he looked around once more, and walked out of the alley. The Crowds, which somehow always form at a crime scene no matter the hour, seemed to part, held back by a couple of beat cops - poor smucks who had to actually walk the streets of this dying place everyday. He didn't envy them one bit.

Wake climbed into his aero-car, started the countergrav engine, and lifted into the air. The sooner he could get out of Old Town and back to his office, the better.

It had been a long walk. He didn't care. He held the note in his right hand carefully, tightly. As if he was afraid it would vanish if he let it go. For all he knew it would.

She's Here, Find Her

Those words hammered through his head like a bell. He hiked down the road, towards the towers rearing up into the sky. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. And it didn't matter.

Mary was here. That's what mattered.

Tall buildings seem to reach desperately into the skies above, some cracked and decrepit from their age, or lack of care. The people here mirrored the lack of security felt from the buildings, suspicious and predatory in the name of survival.

Old Town.

Oddly enough, it seemed to tingle at the back of Seth's mind, as if this place was similar enough to evoke feeling familiar - though to what, he couldn't say. He kept walking through the streets, feeling the usual suspicious eyes upon him as he passed people of this dank city.

And still, he walked, confident that he would find something eventually.

Matt stood among the crowds, a heavy, long jacket over him. He was tall enough to see over most people's heads and so he didn't have to push through the crowd to see the body and the cops. As the Detective got back in his aero-car and sped away from the scene he couldn't help but laugh bitterly and shake his head. Readjusting the large bag of groceries he carried in one arm, the ascended turned and walked away from the circus and back towards home.

"I will never stop expecting to step out onto Northrend on that ride." Malkamar muttered as he walked off the Alliance Icebreaker that came to the Old Town's dock district. The world-shattering Reckoning had hit Azeroth and Outland hard, and alot of people were still suffering from the shock, not merely of whole continents, cities, people's being gone, but also from the sudden loss of the heroes of their world.

The lone Knight Of The Ebon Blade walked through Old Town, seeking. The corpses before him elicited no disgust or horror; he had done worse in his time. But it was a sharp, painful reminder that even here, this supposed peaceful centre, evil lurked.

Arthas, data-corrupted and elevated to nigh indestructability in the late parts of the Reckoning, was dead. The Scourge were done, annihilated by the destruction of Northrend. But evil still lurked.

So why not employ another evil to fight it? The thought caused a small curl on the apparently old swordsman's face.

Sneaking out of home was old hat by now. The same trick she'd picked up from Boo let her step through walls. She didn't think her mom knew she could, but her dad...
.. well, Thog claimed too be 'smart like rock'. Sometimes, the rock seemed damned sharp.

LizBet wasn't letting that stop her, though. She wanted to go back, she wanted to see, had to see what was going on in Old town. Dad probably knew where she was going, might even know why. She may have been moved out of Old Town, but it was still home to her. Some of her friends had not made the move 'uptown'. It was bad enough the times she had gone back to see Boo, to see Meowth... although Meowth was now a Persian, having adapted to the rougher nature of the neighborhood. Still, LizBet had returned, over and over, sneaking out each time.

Really, her dad should expect this. A daughter of Heros, answering the call of adventure? Ok, so more like Fetch Quests up to this point. There was still that one odd homeless guy back there, too. The one that watched her at times, but never spoke.

Wonder if he was the Cannibal?

Jack smiled politely, standing from the chair. "Thanks for the help, Al. Let me know if you hear anymore." He said, shaking the hand of his old friend. Jack had come by, asking if the Ascended knew anything about the Cannibal. After all, he was friends with members of the Council.

"No worries. Sorry I don't have anymore information, but the police aren't searching too hard. After all, it's Old Town. And I thought you were done with the Hero business." Al said, looking at Jack, noting the old gauntlet and coat.

"Yeah, well, just when you think your done, they suck you back in." Jack said with a chuckle. He didn't correct Al. He wasn't back in the Heroes business. He was trying to keep his 'niece' out of it.

"Well, however you're back in, you're looking better without the bottle in your hand." Al said, his tone serious. All Jack could do was nod. It had been six days since his last drink.

"Thanks, Al. Take care of your girls." He said, nodding goodbye.

******

The aero-taxi dropped him off at the street corner, not to far from the site. As he exited and walked down the street, the metal of the gauntlet clinked softly, his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, looking at each of the people he passed. He approached the scene, the crowd finally gone, the scene tape removed.

Jack walked down the alley, seeing if there was anything he could notice, nothing leaping out. As he looked around, he activated his omni-tool, scanning to see if the cops missed again. As he kneeled by a dumpster, he heard voices and turned, a trio of people, two humans and an orc stood in the mouth of the alleyway, eagerly cracking their knuckles as they walked towards him.

He smiled softly, leaning against the wall of hte alley, waiting for them to get closer before he softly pressed his hands together then letting his left touch the wall. With blue electricity cackling over the wall, spikes shot out, the thugs jerking back in surprise and fear before turning tail and running. With a sigh, Jack clapped his hands and touched the wall again, the spikes retreating.

"Damn it, LizBet." He mumbled, walking over to another dumpster and clapping his hands, a tiny alcove forming in the wall. Bringing up the interface on his omni-tool, directing the incredibly useful tool to create a small camera, placing it in the alcove, then using alchemy to make a fine mesh screen over hte alcove, hiding the camera as he turned and left the alley. He knew she would be by the check the crime scene eventually.

"You shouldn't curse in front of children," the taunting voice came from mid-air, off to Jake's right. Invisibility was one of the better tricks LizBet had learned, and she had always taken a perverse pleasure in the way it made people jump.

Unfortunately, that trick was as shortlived as any other ability she mimicked. Rippling like water, Elizabeth Thogschylde became visible, giving her Uncle Jake a smile that looked far too much like her mother Leandra in a playful mood.

Only years of combat and hardship, of seeing things he never thought possible kept him from jumping. He looked to his side, a frown on his face and debated using his abilities to make a giant fist, holding her in place so she wouldn't run off again.

But it wouldn't do to scare the child. After all, he was her Uncle Jack. Didn't help that he had a soft spot for her.

"Children shouldn't be slumming in Old Town, hanging around where monster's can be found." He said, voice gruff, sharp.

He crossed his arms. "What are you doing down here, LizBet? You're mom and dad are going to flip when they find out what you've been doing."

"I'm not a child," LizBet answered, rolling her eyes. "and what I'm doing is visiting old friends." Which was true, as she'd checked on Meo... Persian and Boo first. "Nice trick with the spikes. Those punks have been trouble for a while."

"Well, then if your not a child, I don't need to worry about swearing." He replied, walking towards her. "And I've know you aren't down here just visiting old friends. I hear things, little one. And I've been hearing you've been down here, asking questions." He said, looking down at her. "And I'm glad you approve of my skills." He said with a smirk.

Seeing the older man walking toward a younger woman in an alley wasn't too uncommon an occurrence in Old Town, Seth had to admit. Usually it ended very messily.

It was for that reason that Seth's heartrate began to speed up a little, infusing his entire being with extra energy, ready to form and unleash at a moment's notice. Walking into the alley, he was in time to hear the man talk to the younger woman about her asking questions, and his skills.

The energies to create an immolating flame, followed by a blast of lightning were a hair-trigger away from being released right now. Even so, it would be best to make sure.

"Hey," he called to them. "Everything alright here?," Seth asked, looking carefully at both man and woman.

"Well, then if your not a child, I don't need to worry about swearing." He replied, walking towards her. "And I've know you aren't down here just visiting old friends. I hear things, little one. And I've been hearing you've been down here, asking questions." He said, looking down at her. "And I'm glad you approve of my skills." He said with a smirk.

Proving she wasn't a child, Lizbet resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, instead pointing out something she noticed. "So... why the gauntlet? Dad said you were retired."

"Hey," he called to them. "Everything alright here?," Seth asked, looking carefully at both man and woman.

The young woman (much younger than first glance, practically defining the Anime trope of sexy jailbait characters) looked over to the approaching man. "Does everyone think I need help or something?"

Well, that wasn't quite the reaction he was expecting. The man didn't react guiltily in the least, and the young woman looked...annoyed at the attention. He stopped his approach as he looked over the scene, quietly dissipating the burning and shocking energies he'd built up, being no longer needed.

For the first time in quite a while, Seth felt a little foolish at having interrupted what appeared to be a family meeting - of sorts. He gave them both a somewhat sheepish smile. "My apologies, then. May both of you have a quiet evening."

Afterwards, he turned around and walked back out, not really having a destination in mind, but sure that he'd find one eventually.

"You do know there's a serial killer running around Old Town, right?"

"I'm only gonna be here for part of the day," said Gregory into the video-phone without looking up. "Besides, according to you, there's always a killer running around Old Town."

Ramza Beoulve frowned on the other side of the screen. "The way I hear it, there's always about three hundred killers running around Old Town, but that's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant," said Gregory. "Relax. I won't be here for long, and besides, it's not like I'm gonna be alone. Even this 'Cannibal' guy wouldn't mess with Jim Raynor."

"That's assuming that Jim Raynor's even where he says he's gonna be," said Ramza. "I've heard some... strange stuff about him. How do you even know he'll show up?"

Gregory lifted his eyes from the book in his lap and raised an eyebrow at the video screen in the back of the hovertaxi.

Ramza sighed. "I know, I know... you know him, right?"

"I played every game he was ever in about fifty times," said Gregory. "I can beat the 'Hammer Fall' operation with my eyes closed. I know every line of dialogue he had by heart. Trust me, I know what I'm getting into."

"If you say so..."

"Look I can't stay in the Megatropolis forever, can I? And I don't want to just sit around while Artanis or Fordring or whoever decides what I should be allowed to do. This is Jim Raynor, and he's agreed to meet me, me, personally. What am I supposed to do? Say no?"

"Just be careful, Gregory. Old Town is not a nice place."

"Neither was Ivalice," said Gregory. "I managed okay there, didn't I?"

"You had an army then. Just watch out, all right?"

"I'll be careful," he said. "Don't worry about me."

"I'll see you when you get back," said Ramza. And then the screen went blank.

Taking a deep breath and sitting back in his seat, Gregory turned back to the book in his hands, but quickly found that he was reading the same lines over and over. Setting it down in his lap finally, he looked out the window of the taxi as the streets of Old Town slid past. It looked like something out of an old movie, a mishmash of diners, speakeasies, and men and... other things... hustling past in long coats and fedoras. He half expected to see Humphrey Bogart standing near a corner with the Maltese Falcon in his hands.

It didn't look like a terribly inviting place, he had to admit. Despite what Ramza seemed to think, he was not actually stupid, and this was not the sort of area that he would have normally gone anywhere near. But given the chance to meet Jim Raynor at his own request... hell he'd have gone wandering alone into the most dangerous parts of Hyrule. Surely nothing would happen in a few short hours in broad daylight while he was in the company of one of the most well known marshals in the Transverse.

'The Second Law of Armed Combat is to always consider only the Objective Reality of the situation, not preconceptions.' So said the Red Army Officers' Field Manual in bold letters. Most people who went into Old Town came out of it no worse for wear. There was no objective reason to think this would be different.

The cab slowed and pulled over to a stop, the driver indicating that this was the address listed. Nodding to the driver, Gregory slid over, paid the driver, opened the door, and climbed slowly out of the cab, slinging his shoulderbag around his shoulder and under his opposite arm as he took in his new surroundings.

A crowd of some sort was gathered up the street, near one of several alleyways, though why they were there was not immediately apparent. People moved past quickly, heads lowered, as though expecting rain, though the weather did not seem at all threatening. The buildings overhead seemed to loom inwards like encroaching monoliths. Most people seemed to be dressed as though expecting some kind of 1920s revival, but there was enough variety in both dress and species that Gregory's navy blue greatcoat, visored admiral's hat, and the brass and gold emblems and buttons attached to both didn't attract too much attention.

Or so he imagined.

James Poe's hands were stuffed into his coat pockets, his collar turned up against the chill. A lit cigarette was between his lips, the cherry tip smoldering the paper and tobacco, glowing briefly brighter as he inhaled. He blew the smoke out as he wandered down the alleyway in Old town.

Old Town was the last stop on the way down for so many people. Outcasts, homeless, the unwanted, the unneeded. They all ended up here. Them, and more. You could meet so many people on the way down and who had hit rock bottom here. So many people who were has-beens, and just as many who were never-weres. It was a seedy, trashy and dark place, a rough place that no self-respecting person would show their face in.

All of which explained the absence of the police when it came to recent events. Sure, they came down when the bodies showed up. But it was all a formality. Most of them didn't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about Old Town or its residents. And as long as the problems stayed there, they were happy to let them. It was a sad state to be sure, but it was the way things worked.

He had tried to get a hold of his contacts in the local precinct but even there he was getting stonewalled. Nobody was sticking their neck out to try to push the issue and get it the attention it needed. Part of him understood from his days on the force, but it still pissed him off.

James didn't live in Old Town but his office was nearby. And so many of his cases took him here that he knew it well enough, and in some places was likewise known. The bar he was heading to right now was one of those places. He stood at the mouth of the alleyway and started walking down it. At the end was the entrance to Jude's Bar.

Named after St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, Jude's Bar use to be Jude's Bar and Grill. The grill part didn't take. The type of clientèle that frequented Jude's wasn't the sort that enjoyed a burger or wings with their drowning of sorrows in cheap booze. Which suited James well enough since he wasn't there for pleasure to begin with and, really, he doubted that even if he were, that the food would be worth eating.

The alleyway was strewn with litter and debris, with graffiti scrawled across the walls. He stepped over the body of a dead rodent and avoided a puddle of semi-liquid that he made the smart move of not thinking too hard about. He pulled a hand out of his pocket and removed the cigarette from his mouth. He flicked it off into the distance before descending the steps into Jude's.

The light from the day outside seemed to stop at the doorway, almost like it was afraid to come in. The air was thick with smoke of various types, both legal and otherwise. It was dirty, smoky, and dark. Stools around the bar were loaded with people drinking. There weren't any TVs on the walls showing games or even music playing from a jukebox. Jude's just wasn't that sort of place. This wasn't a bar where people hung out with friends for drinks after work or came to unwind and watch the ballgame.

He wandered over to the bar and ordered a bourbon, neat. Taking the glass he took a sip and grimaced. It was a shit bourbon but he could deal. He turned around and leaned back against the bar, eyes scanning over the occupants until he found the one he wanted. James grabbed his drink and wandered over to the table, taking a seat uninvited.
"Hello, Elvin."

The man looked up from his drink, surprise on his face.
"Poe! I mean, uh, Poe, hey... Didn't expect to see you round here..."
"Bet you didn't."
"Hey, y'know that whole bit was just business, right?"
"Right. You sold me out to a thug whose brother I got put away. All business."
"Y-yeah, about that..."
"Forget it, Elvin. It's just business. I understand. But the way I see it, seeing as how I give you so much business both ways, I think a valued client like me deserves some, how would we say? Compensation. A freebie, so to speak."
"H-hey now! I never agre-"
"Shhh. Don't worry. It's in everyone's interest for you to help me out here. And then we call it all good and I don't to have to mix business with pleasure by telling my buddy, Detective McFarland, where to find you."
"That's not fair, Poe!"
"Could be a worse proposition, Elvin. I said I'd tell him where to find you. I could have said that I'd tell him where to find your body."
"... What do you want, Poe?"
"The Cannibal. I need information."

Elvin Bucci, information broker because it sounded more professional than the title of snitch or stoolie, bought, sold and traded information for a living. The biggest reason for both his success and his continued state of being alive was mostly that he was disgustingly neutral in his dealings. He didn't choose sides and sold freely to whoever paid his price. This made him a lot of enemies but also afforded him a large measure of protection by both grateful patrons and the fact that he had more dirt than a landscaping company. And a lot of people were very much afraid that if he were to end up as living impaired that all those skeletons in the closets would come spilling out. And he, along with a few other select individuals of a similar persuasion, enjoyed the money and information that James Poe passed to them on a regular basis.

Elvin sighed and leaned back in his chair, taking another swig of his cheap scotch.
"Poe, you know I don't know anything about that."
"You're going to sit here and tell me to my face that fucking Tracy Richards at the fucking Crystal City Gazette knows more about this thing than Elvin Bucci? So tell me, Elvin. Are you going to stop blowing smoke up my ass? Or do you really think I'm gonna sit here and believe that some broad sitting in a 6th floor office in the city knows more about something happening here in Old Town than you."
"Come on, Poe, don't be like that..."
"Be like what, Elvin? Be like the guy who's telling you to stop bullshitting him? Sorry, Elvin. But that's the way it's gotta be. Now, I'll do you a solid, real quick. Where do you want McFarland to come pick your ass up? Here or your house?"
"Fine, fine. Christ, quit busting my balls already Poe."
"So talk."

Elvin looked around and leaned forward towards Poe.
"Look, this thing is bad news, alright? Keeps huntin' down humanoids and murderin' em. No rhyme, no reason, nothin' to link the victims. Hell, they aint all even girls or nothin. This Cannibal guy just keeps killin em. Guy, chick, human, not human. Just so long as they look humanoid they work for 'em."
"So is it true what the papers are saying about why they're callin him the Cannibal?"
"Wha? You mean the bite marks?"
"Yeah. That and the other stuff."
"Look, I don't know why the papers name him that, cuz he aint just killin humans or any other specific race. So unless he's some freak crossbreed of like a dozen different species it aint technically gonna be cannibalism in every case like this, ya know what I'm saying?"
"Back on point, stoolie."
"Hey now, no need to get all offensive. I'm just saying."
"Fine then. But keep what you're saying to facts and solid knowledge, not your speculations on newspaper wacko naming conventions."
"Alright, yeesh. Worse than my girl..."
"You have a girlfriend?"
"What, that surprise you?"
"Honestly, yeah. I figured you were more the pay by the hour type of guy."
"You wound me, Poe. You really do."
"Yeah, I can see that. Bleedin all over the place, aren't ya?"
"Hmph. Anyway, this Cannibal guy, yeah it's true. Bites off part of the bodies, skins em, takes their organs."
"Organs? As in more than one? Is it always the same organs?"
"What? Do I look like what you call em, one of them mortuary guys?"
"A medical examiner? A mortician? No."
"Damn right, no. Couldn't pay me enough to do that shit. Pokin around in dead people's bodies. Fuckin disgustin if you ask me."
"I'm sure the dead people of Crystal City thank you for your consideration. So he takes organs, skins em, bites em. Anything else?"
"That's pretty much all I know. Sadly, that Richards chick does know about as much as I do on this one. Nobody has a clue. And of course your buddy boys in blue aint doin a whole lot to really try to stop it either, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know. I'm workin on it. Anything else about the vics you can think of?"
"Nope. Just your standard Old Town fare. Aint nobody who's gonna be missed."

The story of Old Town, summed up in a sentence. Aint nobody who's gonna be missed. The sad harsh reality of this place. Most people from the city didn't give a damn about anything that happened here unless it happened to one of their own. But that still didn't make it right.

"Alright, Elvin. Thanks."
"So, uh, about that-"
"Don't worry. We're even. Do me a favor and if you hear or find out anything else about this Cannibal character, let me know."
"Hey, I thought you said we were even!"
"Relax, Elvs, I'll pay. We're even and I meant it."
"Alright, Poe."
"Thanks, Elvin. Catch you around."

Poe got up from the table, leaving his nearly untouched bourbon on it. He headed back out the front door of Jude's and back into the sunlight. It didn't give him much, but he had other contacts he could hit up too. And maybe he could get McFarland or one of his other buddies in the precinct to budge on this case. The day was, after all, still young.

LadyTevar wrote:"So... why the gauntlet? Dad said you were retired."

He opened his mouth to answer when the man called out. He glanced over, smiling as he heard LizBet's response and watched him leave. Jack looked towards her again.

"I was. But then I heard about a girl asking questions about the Cannibal. And I thought, hmm, who would that be? One name popped into my head." He leaned back against the wall.

"So, Mom would never let you down here if she knew, what about Dad? Maybe I should give him a call." He taunted.

LizBet watched the man start to walk away, her mind piping up with all the ways that Parties were formed in the old days of Gaming. Random encounters with Talented Individuals was one of the ways it happened. Sometimes, it was with people you used to know...

Like Uncle Jack. And now, the Mario walking away from the alleyway.

"Have to catch me first," she called to Jack, already sprinting towards the alley mouth, to catch up with the stranger who'd asked if she needed help. "Hi. I'm LizBet," she said to Seth, offering the brilliant grin that had won over every man her mother had ever met. There was just something about a red-head smiling at you that made most men melt. Give Elizabeth a few more years, and she'd be truly dangerous to the opposite sex.

Stopping in surprise, he'd noticed the redheaded younger lady had caught up with him, and introduced herself with a grin. He replied to her, unable to completely keep a smile off his face. "Hello LizBet," wondering slightly at the name, "I'm Seth - pleased to meet you."

Matt got home, setting the bag of groceries down for a moment he pulled out his keys and unlocked the three sets of locks that were on the front door. Putting his keys back in his pocket, Matt picked up his bag and walked into his home. Housing was cheap in Old Town nowadays. You could get a whole house for practically nothing. And that's what Matt had done. It was a two story home, with the windows barred and several walls being resistant. The front door was bullet resistant. Those small things and the reputation of the man that lived there was enough to keep people from breaking in.

The first floor was used for storage for the most part. A suit of armor stood in one corner, covered in dust. Beside it was an assortment of weapons, all very simple things that were also covered in dust from lack of use. There were boxes set up filled with all sorts of random things, mostly old books. Matt climbed the stairs to his small home and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge he restocked it with the food he'd bought and then went to sit down in front of his couch, flipping on the tv, Matt watched as the day flitted by.

"I thought I should at least say 'thanks' for worrying about me, Seth," LizBet replied, still grinning hypnotically. "I shouldnt' have been that mean ... but I was already getting an earful from my Uncle Jack."

The sky was lighting up by the time Jeremy made it to the borders of Old Town, morning having come in the interim between arrival and travel. He was in a alien world, while it looked similar to his old, gave him a sense of deja vu, as if he'd been here before.

Old Town itself, once a bustling city of neon and activity, he could tell had seen better days, the buildings were dirty, in that grungy sort of way that one could not describe, the signage seemed out of date. The city felt as if it was old and dying, though on this world, nothing was truly old yet.

Not that Jeremy could have known it.

He had not set more than a foot in Old Town's borders, when the car drove it. It was a black sedan, cut in the classic lines that would have fit in a century ago on Earth, during the 1940's - low slung on the road, full of curves that would have made a antique car-nut insane with lust and envy. The car stopped less than twenty feet from him, and the doors opened. From it stepped a well dressed man in what would be called Modern in the Megatropolis of Crystal City, but in Old Town, with the car and the building styling, looked like an anarchism. He was human looking at least, with fair hair, his flesh and dusky brown and round lensed sunglasses were perched on his nose.

He stepped forward, a slight smile on his lips, as he made a bow, "Mr Ackers, it is a pleasure to meet you. I known as The Guide, a mutual friend of ours has requested the pleasure of your audience. He regrets he cannot come to pick you up personally, but other matters require his attendance at current, and I am to see to you're comfort and timely arrival."

The Guide's lips curled in a friendly smile, which were offset by the appearence of his teeth - if Jeremy looked close enough - they were serrated, a mouth full of fine, gleaming points. The juxaposition of such a friendly and ammicable manner and act coming from a figure with such imposing mouthware, could easly have been lost on Jeremy.

"And if you are hesitant to believe my good will, and our Mutual Friends...he told me to tell you 'She is close'. He assured me you would understand."


-------------


"The Light of Dawn walks through these dirty streets, sword by his side, guilded for war. Such a unfriendly manner you display Death Knight."

The words came from behind the Death Knight, the source a tall human, dusky of skin, his dark hair slicked back into a tail. Grey hairs highlighted near the temples of his skull. He was dressed finely, a suit of deepest black, offset by a deep purple necktie, black leather gloves on his hand. His coat was made of tooled leather, certainly the trench mismatched with his suit, but complimented the black leather fedora upon his head. His clothes seemed a odd mix, especially considering the surroundings, of old and modern styling - though he somehow pulled it off. The air about him was palatable with a aura of some sort, power seemed to seep from him.

"Don't be so surprised...not much occurs in Old Town that escapes my attention. Especially when a Ascended steps into it's borders...Why don't we have a breakfast, and we can talk. Words shouldn't be shared on a empty stomach after all."

The voice was amicable enough, the sentence phrased as a request, though it was obviously meant for the Death Knight to accept. The man in black though, hardly waited for the Death Knight's reply, instead walking towards a close by bistro-style cafe whose name was marked in some runic language.


--------------------


"...and a storm front is expected to strike Old Town later this afternoon. So bring your umbrellas. That's the weather, back to you April."


"Thanks for the weather Lakitu. This morning residents in Old Town were rocked by the discovery of another victim of the serial killer known as the Cannibal. This is the fifth victim in three months. The Victim has only been identified as an Asari Maiden. When questioned, the Asari Embassy in Crystal City had no comment. Police Chief Bester released a statement concerning the investigation earlier today.

'The Crystal City Police Department is continuing our ongoing investigation for the identity and where-abouts of the serial killer known as the Cannibal. We have no new information to release at this time, but urge all residents of the Megatropolis and Suburb Districts to remain calm, as the killer has only struck in Old Town. We have no reason to believe he will strike elsewhere. We urge all citizens of Old Town, to remain calm...we are diverting all available resources and assets to locate this fiend. That will be all."

"There we have it folks, Police Chief Bester assuring everyone to remain calm, that the Police have this well in hand..."

LadyTevar wrote:"I thought I should at least say 'thanks' for worrying about me, Seth," LizBet replied, still grinning hypnotically. "I shouldnt' have been that mean ... but I was already getting an earful from my Uncle Jack."

For just a moment, a far-away look crossed Seth's face, the look that seemed to be a result of seeing something bad enough to leave a scar of the mind in its wake. He looked at her once again with a slightly more tired smile as he replied. "No apology necessary - I've just seen...it doesn't matter what I've seen, I'm glad you...both of you are alright," he said, somewhat lamely.

Giving her another smile, a warmer one this time, he straightened as he prepared to be on his way once again. "Again, may both of you have a blessed night," he said, as he walked away.

Stirring at the energies within him, he shaped them into protective energies, and focused on the young woman and her uncle as targets for the spell. A small breeze and the alleyway getting a little brighter for a moment were the only signs that the spell had been cast, but Seth could feel the thin, invisible barrier settling over both LizBet and the man she called her uncle. It would only last for the rest of the night, but it would be something, at least. A bright, smiling face such as hers should be protected from the terrors that stalked this town at night, he thought.

Malkamar followed the man into the Bistro, raising a brow. "I tend to be unfriendly. Friendly doesn't save lives." The Death Knight remarked, even as Shadowmourne stirred. It didn't like this one bit.

Taking a seat with the stranger, his axe placed down where it wouldn't cause trouble on it's own, the Deathknight looked to the man, his eyes glowing with the ghostly blue of his kind. "So what interests you in a shellshocked veteran of the Eastern Kingdoms? And what do you know about this Cannibal?"

Poe's legs carried him towards his next destination; Detective McFarland's office. Another cigarette was lit in his mouth and he puffed on it as he walked. He could have drove or called a cab but part of him preferred the simple act of putting shoe leather to pavement. And it gave him plenty of time to mull over his thoughts. Figure out what he was going to do.

Everyone had heard the chief's statement when they watched the news. The Cannibal was a big headline regardless of what media you worked with. It was the hot story on everyone's mind and everyone's lips. The talk of the damn town. And the police were putting every available resource on making sure it was taken care of. Poe let out a snorting, mocking chuckle. Maybe the public bought that load of shit and swallowed. But Poe had had too much experience, too many similar situations. It was a crock of shit and anyone with two braincells knocking together could figure that out. But, the public needed to feel safe. Needed to feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside and have that reassuring illusion of security that the police chief generated. The sublime lie.

He found himself outside the precinct and walked up the front steps before slipping inside. He made his way to the front desk where the sergeant on duty was filling out paperwork. Poe stepped up and cleared his throat to get the guy's attention. He looked up, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.
"Yeah, whataya need?"
"Here to see Detective McFarland."

The sergeant let out a sigh and indicated to the clipboard on top of the counter with the tip of his pen.
"Sign in on the log, I'll buzz ya through."

Poe grabbed the pen that was hung on a chain attached to the clipboard and filled out the log. Standard boxes need apply. Name, date, time, reason for visit, signature. He set the clipboard back on the counter and stared at the sergeant expectantly. It took him a moment to look back up, realize what it was that James was waiting on and to let out a sigh of massive inconvenience as he hit the button that opened the door that led further into the precinct. James smiled half-heartedly and grabbed the door, pulling it open and stepping through.

James made his way to McFarland's office and knocked on it before opening the door, without waiting for an invitation. McFarland was just starting to look up at the door when Poe walked in, closing the door behind him.
"Jesus, Poe. Ya could at least wait until I say you can come in."
"Yeah, I could. But I didn't."
"Yeah, I can see that. What do you want now? Trying to leech another case off of C.C.'s finest? We're gonna lose our jobs if you keep taking all our work and makin' us look bad by solvin' em."
"No chance of that. I couldn't make you look any worse then you already do. Does your wife know you're trying to dress yourself again?"
"Oh Christ no. I dress in the dark and leave before she wakes up. That way I aint gotta see her and still pretend I'm married to someone that I like."
"Jeez man, it can't be that bad. If it is just divorce her ass already."
"What, and let the bitch take half my retirement? Fuck that."
"That's what you get for not signing a pre-nup."
"That's what I get for knockin the bitch up and then trying to do right. Kicker is she miscarried."
"Probably better off anyway, your luck you'd have a daughter just like her."
"God's fuckin truth right there... So, what the hell do you want here anyway?"

Poe took a seat across from the detective, leaning back, lacing his fingers together over his stomach.
"Well, Paul, I want to know what the hell it is that's being done about this whole thing goin down in Old Town."

The grin on Detective Paul McFarland's face faced and was replaced by a look of mild hostility.
"Look, I'll tell you the same thing I tell those news fucks. Talk to the Old Town precinct. They're dealing with it."
"Paul, that aint gonna cut it and you know it. Old Town PD is a fucking joke and we all know it. You guys send the fuck-ups and the assholes down there to finish out their spiraling careers. Your chief is standing out on the front steps blowing sunshine up the public's collective ass telling them you guys are on point and doing everything. The only thing being dedicated to this investigation is a pair of half-retarded goons with badges, a spin doctor and a filing cabinet."
"What do you want me to say, James?"
"I want the fucking truth, Paul. I want to know why the fuck PD is sitting with thumbs up asses over this shit."
"No, you don't. You really don't."
"No, I do, Paul. I want answers because right now it seems like the private sector is the only one giving two shits about this."
"Damnit, James! Why the fuck won't you just ever listen? You want to know why? Because it's fucking Old Town, that's why! It's a fucking nowhere to get good publicity and because they don't fucking matter. Is that what you want to hear? There it is. They don't. Fucking. Matter. You know this, I know this, everyone in this entire damn building knows it. And as much as you or I or anyone else who actually gives two fucks about doing their damned job hate it, that ain't gonna change. Because brass don't give a damn because they don't live there. Their families don't live their. Their friends don't live there. The Council and their people don't live there. The only people who live there are the ones who don't matter to those in power and as long as this shit stays down there, they're not ever gonna change their minds. You happy now?"

Poe paused, sighing.
"No, Paul. I'm not. I'm sorry. It aint your fault and I didn't mean to get on you like that."
"Yeah, yeah. It's fine. Look, just do me a favor alright? Get out of here. Brass isn't playing nice-nice with anyone trying to force this issue on em and I don't want you tryin. You'll get both of our asses in a sling if you keep trying to bust peoples balls. Just...just let it drop."
"Not sure I can do that Paul. But I'll try to avoid pissing them off too badly."
"Yeah, heard that one before."
"I know. Look, I'm going to be trying to figure this out from my end, but I need something from you. I want to see the bodies."
"They're down at the morgue. You know civvies aint allowed down there."
"Paul.."
"Fine, fine, I'll see what I can do. No promises though."
"Thanks."
"Yeah, you owe me for this."
"I'm not shooting your wife."
"Heh, damn."
"See ya, Paul."