Hyathic Homicide - The Mage of Lost Magic

Chapter 2

Ghorza made her way out of the alley and set off on her walk. She went away from the precinct, lost in thought as she made her way to the south-eastern side of the city, the Slums, where most of the impoverished were located. The buildings slowly grew more wooden, rather than the brick or stone used elsewhere.

Ghorza pondered the four murders. Each one with an older body placed at the scene of a new, bloody scene. She couldn't guess at the killer's motivations, and she didn't want to. Guessing was sloppy work for a detective. You had to work with the facts and nothing else. Ghorza reviewed the facts as she knew it.

The bodies were all found in dark alleys. There appeared to be no patterns or preference as to where. The Merchant's Quarter, the Aristosquare, the Bank's End, and the Slums. Perhaps a preference for the Eastern side of the city, but with the murder at the Bank's End to the west, even that connection was tenuous. A week-old body at every scene. Fresh blood at every scene. No murder weapon, but clearly a dagger or large knife was used on the bodies. Unless some sort of magic caused those wounds. She made note to ask the Magical Investigations Division to take a look. No real leads save this new print, which may not even be related.

Ghorza eventually found herself outside a decrepit, old bar. The building had signs of rot, turning the wood a darker color than the buildings around it. Only the sign, noting the name of the bar as The Gutted Boar, was fresh and well made. Ghorza took a deep breath, taking in the ever so slight scent of sewage that permeated the slums. She prepared herself, buttoning up her coat to hide her uniform and insignias, before stepping in.

"Oh no. No! Not today Ghorza. Not today!"

The yells came from the man behind the bar. A human of middle age with broad shoulders and a large gut. The man wore a greasy apron over his simple, woolen clothes. He was tall for a human, coming up to Ghorza's shoulders. The man spoke form behind a large, unruly mustache that he had a penchant for stroking as he spoke, which he was doing now.

"Hello to you too, Rudolph. How's business?"

"I said no, damn you!" He shouted. "Not today. I've had it up to here already and it isn't even midday. Goddamn cook is a no show, and his apprentice hasn't the brain of a rat. Speaking of rats, they got to the grain, and I'm running low on ale. Not today!"

Ghoza ignored the man's ramblings and took a seat at the bar. She just sat quietly while he went on until he wore himself out, grabbing a glass and cleaning it with a rag while he calmed down and came to stand in front of Ghorza.

"I need to see him, Rudolph." She spoke.

"You always need to goddamn see him. I said no, I did."

"You always say no. And yet, you always help me out."

"Goddamn. You're right, you're right. But I don't have to like it!"

"No, that you don't my friend. But I need to see him, all the same."

"Ah! Leave me alone, you! I don't need." He paused lowering his voice to a whisper. "I don't need anyone to see no goddamn cop round my parts. Bad for business, that."

"The sooner you let me see him, the sooner I'm gone."

"Not soon enough!" He said, returning to his regular booming voice. "He's down at the docks today. Says he's looking for work, but I'll wager you find him dicing with the other good for nothing loafers down there."

"Thanks, Rudoph." Ghorza said, tossing the man a single silver mark. He bit it, the way he always did, before tucking it neatly inside a pocket on his apron.

She left the bar, Rudolph returning to his personal grumblings while cleaning the bar. She never understood how dirty the place always was, considering every time she saw him, he was wiping something down. She pushed the man and his bar from her mind, making her way farther east to the docks.