Open The Slups A Rainy Day...

[Nikolas Blackthorn]

Rain.

Of course it had to be raining.

The dark clouds loomed over the harbor this sleepy morning as if the skies itself was not ready to face the day, the heavy rainfall striking the town practically inviting most beasts to stay home instead of braving out into the cold and damp world. Unfortunately Nikolas was not one who was gifted with the option of staying home. He patrolled down his normal route, one that navigated throughout the putrid streets of the Slups. The tight streets illuminated only by the dim light that broke through the clouds as the rain gave these roads the closest thing to a cleaning it has had in years. The murky brown water rushing down the muddy roads carried god knows what smashed into the badger's leather boots leaving a unpleasant discolorations and filth he had grown accustomed to seeing every patrol. This was just a normal day out in the Slups. At least the rain was covering up the smell for once.

He walked through the ever winding paths of this massive shantytown. As the frigid ocean rain poured down his dark colored uniform the fogey quietly thanked the stars for the rain as he has yet to have seen another beast on these streets for the past hour. Nobody far to dunk in the morning wandering about, no beasts trying to bribe him or berate him. This morning had been something he had dreamed of having ever since he first got put on this rotten patrol route thanks to his mouth perhaps today will be the day he finally will be able to get a coffee from that little shop down by the waterfront. Yet just as the thought crossed his mind he looked to right down a alley and saw something that made him freeze on the spot.

There propped up against a wall sat a wildcat dressed in very fine silk clothing, dead!

 

[Dorian Bloomsbury Esq.]

What dreadful weather! If only Dorian could afford a suitable coat and hat. He did hope it would die down before the evening when he might see if Desiderata was ready to make her debut. The rain wasn't going to stop him from seeking out breakfast and other odd jobs until he secured himself a position with the Guard and/or Navy. Or perhaps even those Unsmudgables he'd heard tell of. They sounded a respectable bunch.

The hare stepped out of his very modest lodgings into a puddle and slipped onto his backside. As he did so, he found himself sat opposite a very lifeless body.

Though generally a brave sort, if Dorian said so himself, he sounded off at once in a very manly scream.

"Oh, I say! MURDER! MURDER'S AFOOT! HALLOOO!"

He scrambled up and caught sight of the large badger at the end of the alley. For the briefest moment his heart skipped lest it be the culprit, but he registered the uniform quickly.

"Thank goodness, sir! Mr Policeman! Say you'll catch the blaggard who has done this. If I had a badge I'd be doing so at once. Why, upon my grandmama's rice pudding I shan't be able to sleep a wink until justice is found for this poor soul!"

 

[Sean Wicke]

Rotten luck. That was the only thing Sean could attribute it to. He'd had to take his frying pan into the shop for a good scrubbing; blood was very hard to get off of cast iron, and after the last time he'd been identified and doxed, he'd had to fight his way out of Pricklee Point and flee to Bully Harbor. Now he was reestablishing himself in a new city, under another false identity, and waiting for his documents to come in. Until then, he needed to lay low and avoid official attention.

Now he was crouched down behind a set of crates, the driving rain plastering his headfur to his skull and soaking through his suit. He counted it as a small blessing that his frying pan was still at the cleaner's, but if anyone figured out who he was, the lack of a weapon on his person wouldn't be exculpatory. That incident with the spatula had taken on legendary status in the criminal underworld, after all. For now, all he could do was lurk in the shadow, praying that the officers who had happened upon the body moments after he'd found it wouldn't notice him in the darkness.

 

[Nikolas Blackthorn]

The badger hadn't even take a single step forward before witnessing the performance of the hare. In fact, he hardly was able to process exactly what he saw. He stood there for a moment eyeing the hare up and down. Drunk? No, he is far to energetic to be drunk off the grog that is pedaled here in these streets. Insane?.....Perhaps. After a uncomfortably long moment Nikolas finally spoke,

"Ahem, er...Sir would you mind stepping away from the body? This is now a official crime scene and it would be greatly appreciated if we can avoid any further disturbances to area."

The Badger said, his voice was a deep but steady, the kind of voice that was bound to radiate a level of authority although yet there was also something about his accent, it did not sound like the typical beasts that would be stalking these streets uniform or not. Far to formal and professional sounding.

He walked passed the hare and crouched down in front of the body, water pouring out from the nooks of his bicorne where the water pooling slightly. It was clearly a stabbing, and the perpetrator clearly did not like the wildcat as he had been stabbed around 8 times. Considering the fact the hare seems to live here and his reaction the murder had to have happen last night at the earliest. Nikolas then reached out and opened the satchel on that still remained draped across the wildcat's shoulders.

"The most of the contents seem to still be in the bag, including his money surprisingly enough. This was no random mugging."

The badger said aloud, not really directed towards anyone as he reached into his coat and produced a small notebook and began to write down notes before glancing over at the hare.

"Exactly what time did you get back home here mister....." He said trailing off as he had no idea who even was this hare.

This is going to be a long day

 

[Minerva]

Minerva was off duty. At least she was trying to learn what it meant. She was way too used to the be on alert at all times. After all, the frozen land of hers was demanding and her, daughter of the winter spirit, had to show the best qualities the cold chiseled in her.

But even though she was here for just a few weeks, she already knew one thing for sure. She hated when it was raining.

So she wandered the streets, trying to patrol them as she was told to, even in her free time. The rain was making her reconsider this heavily.

Yet she heard a very faint scream away. Combat. Something to finally break away from the dullness of her day.

Putting an arrow onto her bow, Minerva dashed, tracking the sound with not much of a problem and finding her way to the grim sight. Once she got to it, she noticed one of those... Forgeys? Those law protecting hunters. A weird collection of beasts too, she could name them after some training but still knew nothing about them.

Still, she was here, body was here, Forgeys were here. She could only offer her assistance to fulfill her duty she signed for while moving to this way to warm and cramped land.

"Officer." she spoke slowly, trying to not mistake much of the language she was still trying to master. "I am off duty soldier. Recruit Minerva Frosttail. Let me offer my paw, eyes and ears in your hunt for the killer."

 

[Dorian Bloomsbury Esq.]

At the badger's request, Dorian hopped back at once up the slope away from the corpse, only slightly tripping as he went in a direction he had never fully managed to master. Once stable, he stood straight with his best 'soldier's salute', politely watching the Fogey constable at work. Not a mugging, he went on to say! Goodness, an assassination perhaps?

"Dorian Bloomsbury Esquire, sah!" he got out, just before a young fox joined the scene offering her services. How much Dorian wanted to offer his assistance, too, but these two looked like they had things in paw as the lead investigators. "Madam!" He saluted again.

"I returned home around the eleventh bell after a second supper at the... I believe the establishment was the Drunken Gull."

 

[Nikolas Blackthorn]

Well this day just got more interesting.

The badger thought as looked over at the fox. He couldn't help but chuckle at the idea of the scene. A Officer of the law, A military recruit, and a hare who acts less like a Slup local and more like a beast from Zann's Backyard trying to solve a murder in the middle of the most crime ridden nightmare in the entire empire. But at least these beasts are offering assistance instead of the usual drunken nonsense.

"Well, I suppose you might as well. It not like my fellow officers are going to want to dirty their boots in this district. We will have to alert the coroner if there is one nearby or at the bare minimum a the local undertaker."

He said before standing up and furrowing his brow as he looked at the body.

"He was stabbed 8 times. No money taken and his body was simply left out here...hmm. Mr. Esquire, correct? Judging by your reaction a moment ago this wildcat was not here when you arrived home. Did you happen to hear anything out of the ordinary last night? A argument, or some kind of a scuffle outside?"

 

[Minerva]

Giving a sharp and curt nod, Minerva took a long sniff. The rain was making her senses not as sharp but... it was still something to get used to. In a blizzard, most scents were just impossible to find. In this rain? They were just blurry and harder to pinpoint. still her tracking skills were decent. Even if the land she found herself at were unfamiliar.

"This wasn't a clean kill. Either done by someone bad or new to hunting." She mused while leaning closer and trying to find any scent or spot any tracks that would help her. She let the officer to interrogate the other beast, the daughter of winter shouldn't have to rely on other's help in a hunt.

Dissecting it she found the expected things first. Fur, scent of those wild-cats? She wasn't sure why they were called wild but that wasn't important now. Blood, lymph and cur flesh were overwhelming but she could still take them apart. Then came the surrounding scents. A lot of damp fur hit her nostrils. Her own, one of this long-eared beast she couldn't name and one of the officer... faintly also one that was similar to the fur of the wildcat lying dead by her paws.

Grasping her bow, and nocking an arrow upon it, Minerva slowly moved, aiming forward as she was sneaking while following the source of this other scent. Someone was hiding there, she was decently sure. Fortunately she remembered that she was not meant to shoot at targets before being sure they are the enemies. Instead she opted for speaking. "If you have nothing to hide. Stop hiding. I know you are there, wild cat." She exclaimed while preparing to shoot. Better to take down someone who could jump her than be nice about it.

 

[Sean Wicke]

Slowly, Sean Wicke emerged from the darkness. Despite being soaked through and through by the rain, he hardly seemed to feel the cold or damp; he straightened his neat suit and stood tall as he stepped into the light. "You're right," he stated, his voice low and gravely, a slight broadness to his vowels that seemed to indicate some immigrant heritage - not uncommon in Bully Harbor. "The work is sloppy, unrefined. This is the work of an amateur. Whoever made this kill, either they don't do so professionally, or they only just started in the business."

He glanced toward the law officers before adding, "They also didn't know how to cover their tracks. Most professionals would make it look like a mugging gone wrong. If they wanted it to look like a cold murder to get his coin, they would take what was in his wallet and leave the case. If they wanted it to look panicked, they would take the wallet entirely, then ditch it on the next street. Only a fool holds onto evidence that could tie them to the scene. You're dealing with someone who doesn't know what they're doing, especially if they needed eight stabs to get the job done. Even against a struggling opponent, a professional would only need three at most."

 

[Dorian Bloomsbury Esq.]

It was a crying shame that few members of law enforcement dared venture into the Slups. The brave part of Dorian was tempted to volunteer for the job, if it weren’t that he had his sights set on other vocations. That, and whilst he was a bit of a ninny, he wasn’t a complete fool. The Slups was dangerous and no mistake. Worse than hopping through Mossflower with eyes closed, all limbs bound, and cotton in one’s ears.

Before he could give an immediate answer, the white fox made a discovery. Great Forests! A hidden wildcat in an impressive suit, but for the rain. Dorian shivered. It really was rather wet. He was going to get trenchfoot at this rate.

The cat seemed to know his stuff when it came to these villainous acts. Some valid points indeed.

“What an awful thing!” said the hare, backing under a gutter to try and stay out of the worst of the wet. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear a peep. Out like a light I was from the day’s efforts don’chaknow. Oh, and thank you for asking, officer. It’s Mr Bloomsbury. Esquire is but a humble title.”​

 

[Nikolas Blackthorn]

Nikolas continued to examine the body as he prepared to write down the hare's statement it wasn't as if there was any reason for the hare to lie. Yet before that he noticed something on the inside of the wildcat's bloody coat. Right on the inside of his was a embroidery of his name only just visible. "Well, well ,well, Mario Whiteclaw I had a feeling the mug was familiar. If memory serves me right he was a spice merchant that often pedaled his so called exotic magic spices in the trenches. Bloody snake oil is what it was. Wonder if he sold his garbage to the wrong beast." He said as he let out a chuckle just as the fox suddenly notched an arrow out of the blue and made another wildcat appear out of thin air. Although listening to the new guest talk, there practically was nothing but alarm bells going off in his head. This cat was far to versed in the art of killing to be some random local. Even if he seemed to be critical of the sloppiness of the unknown killer. He had to be sure.

"Well you certainly seem to be knowledgeable about the art of murder." Nikolas said eyeing the wildcat with suspicion. His paw retracted into his cloak out of sight yet now resting upon his blade, ready for anything. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind coming down to the precinct and having a more in depth conversation? Hiding from a officer of the law really isn't a good look in these parts you know."

The badger then turned towards the wildcat and looked him up and down. He was...tall, easily towering over most beasts although his build was rather thin for most badgers. Yet there was something off about his stance as he had quietly adjusted himself in preparation for a potential chase.

 

[Sean Wicke]

Sean hesitated, his eyes swiftly sweeping the beasts around him. A badger, a hare, another wildcat. Three beasts was doable, but not clean, and he didn't need that sort of heat on him now. His voice was gravelly as he slowly stretched his pawfingers, preparing himself to move if they came for him. "If I may, officer," he said slowly, "I'd rather not." The last thing he needed was for anyone to book him and run his information. It wouldn't take more than a few hours for his Ministry of War file to come back, assuming that Misanthropy didn't intercept the request and come to collect him first. He knew they'd been wanting to acquire his talents for several years, and he'd had as many close calls with MAUL as with the AffecSeanados and other such groups.

"If," he stressed, "we can keep my name off the record, though, then I will lend you my talents for this investigation. These are the streets I live on as well, officer. Believe it or not, business is better for me as well when everything stays safe and clean."

 

[Minerva]

Minerva got stunned for a moment. The pose, the calm, the words and the way this wildcat moved. All were a strong proofs this beast was a hunter like she was. One great at that, unflinching in the worst scenario. He spoke as if nothing ever happened, readying himself for combat while being aimed at almost point-blank with an heavy arrow!

And while it was not her decision in the end, she firmly supported this cat words. In part because of agreeing with them, she also found it strange to have everyone investigated. Too much time wasted that could be spent on solving issues like this killed beast on the cobbles. Actions spoke more than any words could.

But it was the second aspect that was decisive. Hunters at her frozen home were fighting one another aplenty. Mainly to ensure no competition upon the lands they've roamed. Yet there was an unspoken rule to support other hunters in fights against the matters of the world. Minerva with her mother even once took part in solving an issue of one tribe trying to overtake one of very few grasslands for their own pastures. It was one time she met almost all hunters from the land she called home.

Lowering her bow she turned sharply to the officer. "This beast knows the hunt. Fighting them won't help us. We could use his skill as he offered." Minerva explained plainly. Deep inside, she was unexpectedly happy to finally find something, or in this case somebeast, so familiar with what she grew up with.

 

[Dorian Bloomsbury Esq.]

"AAAA-CHOOO!"

The damp had finally got to the hare's nose, prompting him to snatch out a frilly handkerchief embroidered with a 'P'.

"Oh, I'm sorry, excuse me," he said nasally while he dabbed more rain than anything. "I say, it looks like you've got plenty of help already." Dorian looked between the slightly tense and curious beasts. "Would anyone mind if I popped off? I do hope the blighter is brought to justice whomever it was. I'm expected at the Stoaties again, you see. Trying to work out if I'm the right stuff for it or if those chaps under Niceties are the place to be, wot wot." Blow it all, now he sounded almost suspicious. He babbled when he was nervous, which of course he was, starting the day with a poor dead soul practically on his doorstep.