Chapter 1
Tenements
Melvin Monet, the fella I share my cave[1] with, a High-Elf. He was born and raised in France, and at the ripe old age of 19 his parents sent him to the states to “become well-rounded” or some baloney like that. More than likely, though, whoever his parents worked for didn’t want a little elvin mutt hanging around their children. Either way, I’m glad someone who resembled me found their way into a H.D. college. Moose, that’s what people call him, is a journalist for an Elvin paper that keeps us Knife-Ears in the loop. He specializes in the criminal aspect, likes to call himself an investigative reporter. We’ve made a pretty good team this 1st year on our own. While I investigate magical crimes from the side of the law, he does it for the people, our people. Sounds a little wacky, don’t it? High-Elves and Drow-Elves working together, the Flat foots would put the two of us at odds just as quickly as they’d put us both back in chains, at least that’s what some of my mom’s relatives used to say. Anyway, Moose heard through some of his rats that there is a new caper[2] on the streets, taking the lives of known rapists. My kind of criminal if you ask me. After a quick shower I, uh… borrowed a pair of Moose’s pants. The French wear some pretty fitted pants so they make it look like I’ve got an expensive tailor. I buttoned my shirt up, put my palmer[3] in my ankle holster and my Pepper-box[4] in the other, grabbed my coat, and headed out the door. Rain, I heard it pit-patting against the roof of our lovely tenement. It’s always raining here, and that isn’t a really a bad thing. No one questions why I wear a coat half the time, and I don’t need to wear a suit jacket. Pelor,[5] I hate suit jackets. Anyway, I flipped up my collar, lit a cig and made my way towards Kip Bay, which seemed to be the stomping ground of our killer. after I got there and had waited for about an hour or so, I heard a familiar voice, strong, yet nasally
“You Silver haired devil, I knew you’d be here”. Moose had my brown coat on, guess that’s fair use."Nobody else has seen this pattern yet, I tried talking to some of the fellas I work with but none of ‘em thought anything of it, Check this out". Moose started to pull out some papers. He was overexcited, but I had to slow his roll.
"Melvin, let’s go inside". There was a diner across the street, I don’t remember what it was called but it smelled like pie on the inside, freshly baked and stuffed with real fruit. The sweet smell taunted me like one of those flappers[6] who’s had one to many.
"Slim, look at these". He took out 3 rap sheets from a briefcase he was holding in his left hand. One had a picture of a Dwarf on it, the name read "Frederick ’Freddy’ Smith". He had about two pages worth of crimes from petty theft to battery, but one was highlighted- "Rape". The second one was a dark-skinned human "Johnathan ’Johnny 2x4’ Henries". His rap sheet was extremely long, everything from battery, destroying property, and another highlighted one- rape. The last one was a handsome looking Halfling, and the name just read "Ricky". He only had one crime noted, but it had multiple convictions- rape.
"Okay, that connects them a little but I need more than that Moose, convince me". A crooked smile lined his lips, it was equal parts creepy and satisfying. He pulled out a few newspaper clippings, each a month apart, the first 6/22: “Dwarf Dies of Stab Wounds found in a diner in New Jersey”. 7/22, “Halfling Mutilated at an Underground Speakeasy”. 8/22, “Human Dies of Multiple Stab Wounds on the Subway”.
“Each one of these guys died in a public place and not a single person noticed it?” I had to ask. it was a reasonable question.
“Not a single person, they didn’t even call the cops on the subway one until a conductor found him at the end of his shift.” Melvin had stumbled onto something big, we both knew it. The next question came to me with ease.
“What’s today’s date?”
[1] Apartment
[2] Criminal
[3] Small four shot pistol
[4] Pistol
[5] One of many god’s mostly worshiped by humans
[6] Young and Wild Girls