<blockquote><p><strong>OOC Note:</strong> Bwehehehehehe! This is going to be fun. It's a little plot idea I've been tossing around in my head for a while now, and I think it'll be nice to do something more adventure-oriented. Also, some of the stuff said in the narration here <em>might</em> be exaggerated; Marei's one of those snarky types.</p></blockquote> <p>With all due respect, Marei Kynigos <em>hated</em> Bhim.</p> <p>She had reason to, in her defense. She was a bounty hunter - not a bail agent, but the kind of bounty hunter who would either bring in living people, or bring in corpses. Doing the latter usually meant committing murder, one way or another. Even with the Code, this was <em>not </em>the most legal of jobs to begin with. And like most potentially illegal jobs, a lot of hunts would begin or happen in the wretched hive of Ramath-Lehi: Bhim.</p> <p>It was the very same Bhim where she consistently wound up <em>almost</em> being killed roughly three to four times a trip; where she had to keep an eye on her belongings even when she was asleep; where she constantly had to tell people that no, she was <em>not</em> interested in this drug or that alcoholic drink; where she ran into folks who would make an ordinary pendragon wretch out of disgust at their actions and/or intents; and so on and so forth. Sure, she'd ran into her share of unpleasant personalities who had a price on their heads, but given a choice between doing another job in Bhim or heading into the frozen wastes of Dhruv to find some crazy Yki... well, she'd sooner head to Dhruv.</p> <p>Oh, and the Bhimite lunatics <em>didn't use Khasi</em>. That was one of the worst parts of it.</p> <p>Naturally, all this meant that sooner or later she'd have to go back there yet again.</p> <p>And so here she was, in a bar in Terhesia on a warmish and partly cloudy day. Now, this particular bar wasn't a bad choice. While there were the usual drunk folks, there was a surprising lack of shady figures, and the street outside of it didn't have nearly as many people passing out or getting murdered. The air inside was actually fairly clean (there was an air conditioner), the electronics were in working order, and the bartender even had the decency to sell non-alcoholic drinks. Problem was, the loud drunks were, well, loud.</p> <p>Marei was seated on a stool at the bar itself. Anyone who looked at her might've thought she was a child, were it not for the wings coming from her back - they were like a fish's fins, but more complex in structure and covered in feathers. Yes, she was a Feydragon - a gray-furred Feydragon with a very long tail that almost went down to the floor, with brown hair in a braid that stopped partway down her back, and with yellow-coloured eyes. And all of her clothes were black.</p> <p>She sipped from a glass of some red fizzy drink, and set it down to look at the bartender, a large, six-armed Lukuo.</p> <p>"So what's the job this time?" he asked.</p> <p>"It's another one from one of the local bosses." Marei's ear twitched, and she scratched her chin. "The... Donvotsi, I believe? Apparently there's been someone going around killing people. He's earned the nickname of 'the Butcher'. Yeah, not that new for Bhim."</p> <p>"Sure it ain't. What's special 'bout this one?"</p> <p>"Well, there kinda seems to be a pattern - or several. First, all of the victims were Fey. Donvosti didn't tell me about that one, but I saw it clearly in the photos. Secondly, these folks were were working for him, and he was starting to become worried."</p> <p>"That makes sense. Wouldn't want to lose lackeys like that."</p> <p>"And the third one is where it gets disturbing," she said. "Each of the victims died in the same way - and next to each of the bodies is a message written in blood. Blood and Ramathian. Roughly translated, that message says, <em>May Tanastlasei forgive this sinner</em>."</p> <p>For a moment, the Lukuo was silent.</p> <p>"...so you're huntin' one of <em>those</em> crazies."</p> <p>"One of <em>those</em> crazies who's apparently very good at covering his tracks. And apparently very dangerous - Donvosti told me to try and get some help before going after him." Marei sighed. "I... should be doing that right now."</p> <p>The bartender nodded. Both he and Marei knew that she had trouble getting along with others, let alone <em>working</em> with them.</p> <p>The gray Feydragon was quiet as she took another sip from her drink. She didn't know where to start looking for help - should she get other bounty hunters or assassins? Someone in law enforcement? Local thugs? Takula? Would she have to go off-planet to grab some powerful alien and then bring it back to nuke the criminal known as the Butcher?!</p> <p>Hopefully not.</p> <p><em>At least it makes sense </em>why<em> they call him the Butcher</em>, she thought. <em>Those killings were </em>brutal<em>.</em></p>
<p>Sat a little further down the bar was a white and brown Yki, thumbing through a pockmarked, dog eared leather bound notebook. Zaal, as he was known, was having a bad day. It should have been a good day since he had a job, an interesting puzzle and a pocket full of coin to solve it. This puzzle was ever so slightly illegal, but that was what the pocket full of coin was for. Or would have been, had his supplier not turned up dead in a pool of his own blood shortly after he had arrived in Bhim. So, here he sat nursing a drink whilst trying to find a new supplier. With the ban on magika, finding someone to supply him with fronima control substraits was getting harder with each passing month.</p> <p>The drink was clear, bitter and strong. And almost gone. Whilst staring at the bottom of the glass, contemplating ordering another, he overheard the conversation going between the bartender and the grey 'dragon. This being Bhim and all, and random strangers killing other random strangers for listening wasn't exactly unheard of he tried very hard not to listen. But when someone starts talking about people (plural) start turning up in pools of their own blood and then talk about hunting them, it got a man's attention.</p> <p>"'tender, another of the same please." He said quietly, holding up the glass with a number of smaller coins held against the side. Once the Lukuo had taken his glass and his money he quickly scooted across a couple of stools so he was sat next to Marei.</p> <p>He pulled a photograph out of his notebook and placed it on the bar in front of the 'dragon. "I am so terribly sorry to impose, but do you know anything of this fey?" The photograph was a passport-style portrait of an Alanamsul with bright yellow eyes wearing a loose white shirt. A tattoo like a vine ran down one cheek, disappearing at the jawline. "I only ask, because I was due to speak with him not two days ago but unless I can find a medium, he is too busy lying in a puddle of his own blood with some gibberish written on the walls around him to see me." Zaal looked honestly distressed by what he said, but continued. "If you know anything, I can pay you for your trouble."</p>
<p>Marei had just had a little more of her drink (which had a very strong sour taste) and set it down, still wondering what to do, when someone who'd been sitting a few stools away was suddenly right next to her. Her fur stood on end and she sharply drew back for a moment, looking at this now-definitely-present someone - a Yki arden.</p> <p>"Sweet merciful Fronna! Would it be too much to <i>ask</i> before sitting next to people?!"</p> <p>The arden at least had the decency to apologise for "imposing", as he'd put it. He'd then pulled out a photo of a another fey - gods, that's one of the victims, she thought - and asked if she knew anything about the one in question. Apparently this Yki had been due for some sort of meeting or appointment with the victim, but the fey was a bit too dead to really be able to speak with anyone.</p> <p><i>He said "gibberish"; he doesn't know Ramathian?</i> The grey fey made a mental note of that.</p> <p>And this arden seemed genuinely upset about what had happened - judging by what he was saying, he saw the scene of the crime himself... <i>Ah.</i></p> <p>"'kay, I didn't really <i>know</i> that guy - I might've seen him once or twice - but I guess you deserve to know what I know about what happened," she said. Marei took another sip from her drink before speaking again.</p> <p>"First off, I can say - practically confirm - that he was murdered. Most likely by some psycho religious nut, since the gibberish around him asks Tanastlasei to forgive him - it's in Ramathian. Second, he wasn't the only one who died like that. A bunch of Bhimite fey have been killed like that over the past while. And they were all working for the same guy. I seriously doubt that's a coincidence.</p> <p>"Guess he was either worried about his other fey employees, or scared for his own safety. He actually went and hired a bounty hunter to play detective and kill the guy who's killing his lackeys." Marei smirked a little in amusement.</p> <p>"Although... you found the body of this particular fey, right? Anything else you could tell me about what you saw?"</p>
<p>Zaal listened carefully as Marei explained what she knew and almost missed the arrival of his second, no fifth, drink. (In his defence, he had been working on a shifted schedule as he tried to contact people both on and off-world to acquire the now lost parts). The yki paused for a moment to take a long sip before starting again.</p> <p>“I found him in his workshop, where I was supposed to meet him. Usually he had shelves stacked ten or fifteen feet high with bits and parts and charms and just about anything and everything you need for magic. But a lot of it was on the floor, like someone had been rooting through the draws looking for something. The odd bit is, none of that was bloody so I can only assume the poor fey walked in on the intruder. Then there was his desk, it was covered in blood, but on the wrong side of the workshop to the...”</p> <p>Zaal paused to take another drink. The fey could probably smell the drink from where she was sat; it was strong but not immediately alcoholic. That was masked by the wormwood.</p> <p>“...body. He told me that he’d be in his workshop all this past week. So it is a good chance whoever killed him was waiting for him.”</p> <p>There was a small pause between Zaal stopping talking and the arden picking up his notebook but shortly after that, he pulled out a typed note written on the inside of an envelope and signed only as ‘The Supplier’. Zaal slid the note across the bar before doing something rather strange. At first it appeared he was about to reach into the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing but his fingers disappeared into his fur just before the cuff. There was a small pocket of skin just behind each hand on the underside of each wrist that had previously held magical implants that now served as secure storage for small items. When Zaal’s fingers emerged, they were holding a small azure blood splattered crystal.</p> <p>“Just before he died, he told me he was working on a compact way of magically storing a record of everything that happens within a volume around a properly enchanted machine device. He always had a penchant for crystals like those, and he was holding it in one hand when I found it.</p> <p>“If you can find someone who is better than I am at manipulating machina he might have caught his attacker.”</p>
