The Curious Case of Morgrim City

The Necromancer

Havok Bane lived in the room above a bar. An arrangement that his mother would have found deeply troublesome, but one that he was fond of. It kept the rain from his head, the cold from his bones and above all, provided a continuous supply of booze that kept most of his memories at bay. Morgrim City had not been on the top of his list when it came to places to reside or employment prospects, but it did provide a place to hide. No one in their right mind wanted to search the city of freaks for him, and once he'd gotten used to the gloom and general pall that hung over the residents, he found it quite to his liking.

No one had questioned him on his occupation of choice, occasionally, he even found decent work. Most of the time though, he could be found in the corner of the Winkle Picker, or asleep in the room above it.

Last night had been intense when it came to the level of drinking. One of the neighbouring werewolves had reached adulthood. There had been a celebration, which turned into a contest. The contest had dissolved into foolishness. Havok had no idea what time he'd left the proceedings, nor how he had ended up in bed. At least he woke up alone. Last thing he wanted to do was explain to some alpha how one of his pack members had wound up in bed with him. Again.

A shaft of light fell over his eyes. Grunting, he shuffled deeper underneath the blanket determined to get away from such a rude intrusion.

Cold shot over his nude body as the covers were yanked away. "Give those back," he muttered. He had a pillow still. He shoved his head underneath it in a bid to shut out the obnoxious light.

"No." He heard the sound of curtains being thrown back; the brightness intensified. "I have been to crime scenes that are cleaner than this room."

Normally, Havok would have a quip about that but his head was too busy throbbing to think about it. It took another moment for him to place the voice. "Laguna?" he muttered.

"The one and only."

Havok grunted again and sat up. Running a hand over his face, he reached for the glass of water on the bedside table only to find it empty. He replaced it and shrugged, "To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked aware that her being here was no good thing at all.

"Get dressed, I'm not going to have this conversation with you naked." She turned to leave, before adding, "And make it clean, there is work to be done."

Havok groaned and rolled out of bed. Somehow, he managed to land on his feet, which was quite spectacular considering how much the room was spinning. Dragging on a pair of pants that looked mostly clean, and some definitely only worn once trousers, he then looked for a shirt. That was somewhat more difficult.

Ten minutes later, he descended the stairs. The inn itself was almost as dishevelled as Havok was. The gloom inside matched the gloom in the street. The floor had been swept, though whether the brush had any bristles in it was left to be seen. and found Laguna sitting at his table in the corner. Sat next to her, in a ridiculously wide brimmed hat, was Terry. This had to be bad if they were both here. There was a large jug of water in the centre of the table, so he forewent the planned trip to the bar and just joined them.

"You stink of wolf," Terry said as he slid onto a stool opposite them.

"I found a clean shirt, be thankful for that," Havok snorted. He helped himself to a glass of tepid water and sipped it with a grimace. "What do you both want?"

"There's been a murder," Laguna said.

"So?"

"An outsider."

That made Havok pause. "That could be bad for business," he said. "Maybe I should order that beer."

"Very bad." Laguna sipped some watered wine, her amber eyes regarding Havok with cool appraisal. "No beer yet. We need you to come and speak with the victim."

"Are they in one piece? I can't stand it when there's mangled parts to deal with." He drank some more of the water, finding the taste refreshing despite its warmth.

"There are no parts missing," Terry said. He did not have a glass of water; his pale face seemed to almost glow in the gloomy light of the inn. Havok let out a breath.

"It helps if they can talk back with their own tongue." Havok drained the water and placed the glass down on the table. His head felt clear. Pushing scraggly black hair from his face, he looked first at the detective and then at her minion. He had no choice in this. It was this or back into a cell, and that was something he was keen to avoid. "When do you want to do this?"

"How long do you need?" Terry asked.

Havok looked at the vampire and pushed away the urge to roll his eyes. Terry already knew what it would take to get this done, "About an hour," he lied. All he had to do was fetch his spell book, make a few preparations and ask questions. "Do you have a list of questions ready?"

The necromancer got to his feet. "I do need to get a few things; need to look the part after all..." Havok was sure he knew where his robe was; he was sure it was under the bed. The last time he'd cast a spell had been in a theft case three months ago and that had been a freeze spell, nothing necromantic in nature at all.

"We'll meet you outside," Laguna said.

Ten minutes later, the three of them were sharing a carriage and heading towards the station. It was a silent journey, Havok wondered what he was getting himself into this time. Crime was not unknown in Morgrim, but the murder of an outsider was unheard of.