Aldous Kane's Story

"I'll say," said a voice that came from behind the officers. Standing there was a rather muscular man dressed down in a black long coat, shirt, pants and boots. At his sides were a pair of custom-built handguns, on the rear portion of his belt hung two strange custom handheld crossbows, and on his back was a very large greatsword.

Aldous was a rather grizzled man, aged into his forties and sporting a salt-and-pepper mane of hair, as well as a rather thick beard of similar appearance. His right eye was missing, and he donned a makeshift eye patch formed from an old bandage to cover up the grotesque scar that injury had left behind. He had refused to get a cybernetic implant from the Society, even though they advised against his decision, as he was well-aware of the dangers that could be presented in doing so. No, he was content with being half-blind.

He could still work just as effectively with one eye as he did with two.

"What've ya got for me, Dick?" he asked, peering through the officers at the mangled corpse before them. He took a few steps closer, trying to examine the body in greater detail. He hung back, however, awaiting to be briefed on the situation, and to acquire permission to perform his own examination.

On one of the two buildings flanking the alleyway, a man crouched in the shadows of a water-tower - hands deep in waistcoat pockets, ragged and torn jeans, a baseball cap pulled low to hide a face riddled with scars, a thin grey beard, and shock-white hair. He watched the officers work, his yellow gaze flitting from face to face, committing them - or trying to commit them - to memory.

The mangled corpse was an eerie match to Jesse's supposed victim, the perpetrator one that Baron had requested he track, personally. As of yet, he'd felt no need to utilize the manpower that Baron had at his disposal.

He didn't trust a werewolf as far as he could throw one.

And wasn't that ironically delicious?

“I doubt humour is the most important part, really, unless you laugh criminals into jail. Which is impressive, I admit.” El chuckled some at her own joke, since she was sure she’d be getting nothing from her partner. That ended with a short sigh which sloped into awkward quietness between the two. The car seemed to be having its own conversation, however. As they made their way into Vargeras where the roads were less smooth, it rattled and bumped along, talking metallically whilst her occupants struggled to find something to converse about.

Luckily, they were saved by a voice emerging from the scratched dashboard.

"Looks like we're not going to find out, either. Higher priority call, take this next left."

Leon breathed through his nose, face scrunching as he tried to muffle a cough.

"Well at least you've got sense of humor, even if its a bad one." Giroux responded as if ten minutes hadnt passed.

---

The knowledge of the increase in werewolf attacks over the past few years, weeks, even, was enough to make El on edge as they drove through their haunt. Lining the streets were buildings which she would describe as shoddy. In her opinion, werewolves did not deserve any care from the state. They were dangerous, unruly, untrustworthy. She pulled in a little way up the street from the scene of the crime which was easily distinguishable by the small gathering partially visible down the alley in the morning light.

If she had to make an initial guess, she’d be putting this straight down to pack conflict. Werewolves really were a bunch of un-peaceful brutes.

She studied the area a bit closer, taking in the sodden rubbish laying in the gutters and trash piled against walls. Messy un-peaceful brutes.

The sun glinted off something half-hidden in the alley. A something which was strapped to someone’s back. Craning her neck, El let out a low whistle at what she judged to be an impressive greatsword.

“Hey, how come you don’t have one of those?” She asked Giroux as she reached to kill the engine.
If it was humour he wanted, then he’d have to get used to being the butt of the joke.

Leon funneled a few more seeds into his mouth. He took a moment to attempt to chew them before speaking, half chewed seeds muffling his words. "What? A svord?"

"Might make you look a bit less..." she watched him munch away. Him, he, this clown who was supposed to be her advisor "useless."

With that, she slung the keys back to him and climbed out of the car, only to step straight into a pile of soggy cardboard.

Leon shrugged. "Looks heavy, I've got back problems." He shoved another handful into his mouth, blowing his cheeks up like a squirrel.

He stepped out of the car, passing the bag of seeds to a vagrant dressed in burlap scraps before rubbing the reside off on his pants. The man smiled, taking the bag and disappearing into an alley.

Leon made his way towards the scene, pulling his badge out from beneath his grey t-shirt shirt and letting it hang against his chest. "Whos the cyclops?" His words were barely audible through his heavy accent. He addressed the other man; "Radio said it was a dog call, Choncey?" He peered down at the grisly corpse. "They're getting pretty brave with these..." He moved his hand to his waist, fingers capping what looked like a long, iron nail sitting in a leather holster.

Richard looked up, then greeted the man with a nod. "Nothing good, Kane. I'm not sure I've ever seen one like this before. Werewolf with sharper teeth, maybe. I don't know. It's why I called you down here. We've had two attacks within the last week. This is the third. It's strange, look-"

He knelt down on the ground next to the corpse, carefully avoiding the large puddle of blood around it. Pulling out a pen from his pocket, he pointed to the space around the bite. "That's a lot of slobber. But the wound almost looks like it's been made with a knife. This is also the only injury we can pick out. Until we get this guy to our pathologist, we won't know much more. What do you think?"

As two more people began to approach, Richard got up and approached them, scowling at the nickname. "It's not Choncey," he growled. "Kane, you know agent Giroux, I'm sure. Ah, who is this?" he asked, gesturing to the young woman.

El had trailed after Giroux, quite ungracefully as she’d been slyly trying to get the saturated cardboard off the bottom of her boot by dragging it along the concrete. She came to a momentary standstill behind the bodies which ringed the corpse before worming her way in besides her partner.

To be honest, the sight made her a bit queasy, she hadn’t seen anything this bad so far, and her discomfort was written across her face.

What did she think?
She was sure they weren’t asking her, but… two attacks within the last week. But from what she’d heard, she’d describe them more as maulings. Whereas this… this seemed purposeful, targeted, there was no denying the fatality of that single wound -

Giroux brought the palm of his hand against his forhead, squinting his eyes "Doh! Forgot we ended up naming you Richard. Choncey was our second choice. Apologies." He smiled before peering over his shoulder. "I dont know, she just kinda followed me here. Get behind the yellow tape, lady."

El shot Giroux a reproachful glare.
“Elodie Blanc, I’m his shadow. Greeny.” She might have smiled if she wasn’t agitated at how this ‘seasoned officer’ was influencing her first impression. Not that her own attitude was helping in any way.

Aldous merely looked over the new arrivals and scoffed; especially at the woman who introduced herself as a greenhorn. "Fine lot you work with, Dick," he stated dryly. He turned his attention back to the corpse. It was quite a vicious kill indeed; Aldous wondered, for a brief moment at least, if the victim felt anything before the lights went out. Instantaneous death, or the slow, bloody kind?

"Emerich Michael..." he said absentmindedly. The name didn't ring any bells, as was expected. He pondered over the corpse, however, the smell of blood and what he could only assume were voided bowels lingering on the air. Despite the horrid stench and gory visuals, Aldous kept his lunch. He'd seen a lot worse in his many years working for the Society; this young man's death was nothing too impressive, if he had to think back.

Still, he had to ask the obvious question: "Do we have any leads?" He was sure he knew the answer to that already, but it couldn't hurt to inquire.

"Eloide. Nice to meet you," said Richard, giving her a nod. There was a short glare given to Leon before he turned back to the hunter.

Raising one hand, Richard flicked the wall beside them. "This is the Den. Hotspot for werewolves. I doubt this murder is linked to them or else they'd of disposed of the body and not left it festering out in the alley, but they might have heard something," he said, motioning for them to move out of the alley as several members from the forensics team came to collect the body. "I'll be questioning the members, and I want you all to do the same. Kane, I know you and werewolves- the Society and werewolves in general- aren't on the friendliest terms, so I'm leaving it up to you if you want to join us. I'll be keeping you up to date on any information we come across."

Cops.

Shit.

Ivan finished committing what the police had said to memory, straightening when the one guy announced his intent to barge into The Den. He took a few steps backwards, belting his waistcoat tightly as he pondered the information.

Three attacks. All from the same markings. The police were chasing the same lead he was, and that meant nothing good for him. Cops sniffing around his business meant answering more questions than he'd be asking, and watching his step far more than he felt was comfortable. He'd need to stew on this a little more, figure out how to proceed.

He leaped the gap between the buildings easily, a dark shape on light sky.

As he opened the door on the roof to head down to the den, his stewing turned to brooding.

Brooding always made him uncomfortable.

Aldous had to let out a light chuckle. "That's putting it lightly," he said with a grunt as he leaned down to peer at the body some more, looking for any traces of hair or anything Richard may have overlooked. Deciding the scene had been thoroughly scoped over, however, he stood once more.

Looking at Richard, he spoke. "I can't go with you, unfortunately. My presence would only make things worse. Go, and good luck." Looking back at the mangled corpse at their feet, he sighed. "I'll make sure you get some assistance on our end. I'll head up an investigation, let you know if we come across anything."

With that, he strode away, heading back to the University. He'd need to run by Thaddeus, but he was confident that he'd get the resources he needed to carry out his own investigation.

Aldous arrived in the Phantom Quarter, much to his chagrin. His mouth was covered with a rebreather, an air-filtering apparatus that served to mitigate the potency of the foul air that surrounded him. Reports of what was assumed to be illegal practice of magic had come from around this area, and he had been charged with investigating it.

Scanning the environment proved difficult; everything around here looked the same. It was a decrepit, shabby place one would not dream of being caught dead (or undead) in. The dark of the night made it quite hard to discern one patch of dirt from the next. He procured a flashlight, pumping a UV light through its lens, and shone it on the area about him, and walked along.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. He saw no evidence of magical malpractice in the area. However, turning a corner led him to a string of bodies, people he could only surmise were homeless. They had been charred, their flesh burned black and their faces unrecognizable.

Only when he looked up from their scorched beings that he saw something that was of interest to him: a pentagram, drawn in the ruins of a now-decimated building. Even more curious was the man standing within it, his looks of confusion as he badgered a nearby ghoul with questions.

"Well, what do we have here?" Aldous said quietly, and to no one in particular.

Zeban nodded slowly, "Luteia city? I think I heard a few mentions of this place back in Wing City." Zeban said in Luteian. At first he didn't notice it then it he said something else. "How do I know this strange language...and why is it making sense to me..." Zeban muttered.

"That damned she witch I should have never agreed to her terms!" Zeban muttered quietly. He looked up just as Aldous spoke looking to the man, but not saying a word. He waiting to see what Rowan's response to the man would be.

So he was from Wing City, meaning he was at the very least familiar with Terra. "What's the last thing you can remember? So a witch did this to you?" He'd never met a witch himself, but he'd heard enough about them to have a basic idea. "Gotta be careful with those witches, you know. They're always causing trouble. Same thing with Djinns."

His lips were poised to speak again but the unfamiliar scent beginning to flood his nostrils managed to capture his attention. He fixed his gaze to the east and waited. The beam of the flashlight was the first to pierce the darkness, and its carrier came into view shortly afterward.

"Hello there." Rowan waved to the new arrival, greeting him with a bright smile. "Just trying to figure out what happened with this fellow here." he lifted his hand and pointed in Zeban's direction.

"He caused quite the commotion, and I my intrigue got the better of me."

Walking into the overall perimeter, Celiara observes the nearby group of people with interest before feeling her heart leap in shock at the word “Witch” exiting a gentleman's mouth, spoken in a way which she could tell was laced with displeasure.
It might have been considered quite stupid for her to listen in on somebodies conversation, but if this was the Witch who cursed her with small height in the first place, maybe she could find out who the evil Sorceress was to begin with. Standing at only three inches tall (and cursed to be that way since before her birth) she couldn’t fathom the thought of passing up an opportunity to put things right again.

Trying to gain a bit more courage, she quickly walked closer towards the group and called out to them with building hope. “Hey, what do you mean by Witch?” She yelled out with burning lungs. Keeping her head held high, she tried to make herself known by jumping up and down on the concrete below them. If only she wasn’t so small, she could’ve already been planning her quest against the evil Sorceress as of that very moment. The only thing that made her nervous on the matter though was whether these Humans were evil or nice. . . Celiara couldn’t have imagined defeating anybody with only a few poison arrows.

Aldous' ears perked up. The situation got even more serious at that moment, throwing any patience Aldous had out of the window. "What did you say about a witch?" he began, "If you know anything about what happened here, it would be in your best interest to tell me everything you know."

His hands were ready to fly to his weapons should he need them, and he kept his wits about him as he surveyed the two before him.

"She wasn't an actual which...just an expression she was worse than that. But I doubt you will be seeing her in this world so you can just drop the questions right there folks." Zeban said as a third being arrived.

"Now as for what happened 'ere I was in a failed mishap. " Zeban said, "I've had a long exhausting day so if one of you would be kind enough to point my way to the nearest soup kitchen I think I'll be on my way." Zeban said with an irritated glance towards Aldous' he had a feeling the man wasn't about to let him go though.

Rowan quirked an eyebrow as his gaze fell on Aldous, "A little demanding aren't we?" After taking a second to size him up, he took note of the weapons on his person. A hunter no doubt, or at the very least some form of law enforcement. He shrugged his shoulders lightly and returned his focus to Zeban.

"If not a witch, then a vengeful former lover then?" he inquired. "Don't worry, guy. I think we've all had that problem before." For a second he thought he heard the voice of another, but he found nothing when he looked around. Maybe his ears were just playing tricks on him.

Celiara sighed deeply, straining her voice the louder she called out towards the group of three Giants. It was quite the struggle to project her own voice, but it seemed that she was able to force out more of a whisper then any other vocal range she could ever comprehend. In all truth, she was more or so frightened because they didn't hear her to begin with. What if they stepped on her? That fear tore her apart by the seconds which passed.

“Hey, I'm down here!” She screamed out towards them again, watching with intent that one of them would take notice of her beckon call.

Aldous stepped in Zeban's path as he made an attempt to leave. He still had questions, and no one was getting away from his sight until they were answered. "What do you mean she wasn't an actual witch? If she had the ability to make you do...this," he said, stopping to gesture at the destruction that lay mere feet away from where the trio stood.

"...then she must have some degree of great power. What do you know about this woman? A name or description perhaps?" Aldous had to press hard for the facts. For all he knew, this man could be lying straight to his face, and using some woman that he supposedly was not able to interact with on this plane of existence as cover for his own horrendous crimes.

"Any information you have will be highly useful."

Walking closer towards the trio, Celiara heaved in a deep breath of air before calling out into the open – praying that her voice could be heard over the loud surroundings (due to her small height, of course) and for this reason she refused to speak any softer.

“If you are seeking any information, I can say much about this Witch,” she pauses in thought for a few moments before replying, “It isn’t uncommon to hear many bad happenings revolving around this Sorceress. Mind you, it was she who shrunk ‘me’ down to begin with”

Pulling out a piece of paper from her satchel, she quickly runs towards a man she supposed was Aldous, and tried to get his attention by waving the piece of paper frantically around in the air, “May you read this, for I believe it can tell you what is needed”

Written in bold words across the piece of paper, it reads ‘”Northern, Terra: Criminal search for Sorceress unknown to authorities since last winter’” and for this reason, she hoped it was a clue to the Witches whereabouts.

Rowan's shrugged his shoulders as he was ignored, choosing to take a rear seat in the conversation. Shortly afterward, the voice he'd heard before returned to him. "Alright, that definitely wasn't me." he said to himself. His eyes fell upon the eensy teen who gazed up at them from the pavement.

"Look." he pointed, watching the girl run over to Aldous. He moved over and plucked the sheet of paper from her tiny hands. He looked over it, and read the words written aloud. He then passed the paper over to Aldous.

"Looks like we've got an adventure on our hands. I'm down." His lips stretched into a mischievous smile.