The walk to work was as it always was.
Comfortably chaotic.
Street-performers danced and made fools of patrolling Enforcers and Mercenaries, Merchants hucking products yelled prices and threatened assumed thieves.
Cars charged by mana-stone engine-hearts roared down the streets spewing foul blue-glow fumes into the twisted atmosphere.
Skyscrapers and dragon-riders blotted out the sky like steel, concrete and scaled canopies.
It was dangerous to smoke fae-woods in cities. Overstimulation could lead to psychosis. The fae-kind, which involved low-grade matter manipulation.
Luckily, Grimble was experienced.
And focused.
And too tired for much else.
After another few miles of inner-city madness, he arrived.
Hidden in a back alley and connected to a mid level luxury gentlemen's club, The Morrengrave Privatized Investigations Firm loomed.
Not to be confused with the Morrengrave Mercenary Guild. As the Morrengrave Sisters would tell it. Passionately.
The building was comprised of all things natural. Or at least as much as it could with a wood base and brick shaped stone body framed by blessed low quality silvers and golds. Crows perched on the fire escapes of the complex behind him and the awnings ahead.
"Come inside!" They squawked.
"Any day now!" Another quaked.
"Yea, sure." Grimble headed up the stairs and into the building. Noting they were more anxious than usual.
The seductive beat of the gentlemen's club upstairs thudded through the building like a heartbeat as Grimble stepped past the entrance hall and headed down the hallway of offices. One of which being his own. The name tag fell from the glass door as he passed. He didn't bother picking it up and entered the main office. Owned and occupied by the Morrengrave sisters.
"BITCH!"
Their bickering grew louder as he opened the door.
"Don't call me by your nicknames just because I wear your face!"
"Yea, it's my face— just like how this is my investigations firm. You follow me. So sit down and shut the hell up—"
"If it wasn't for me you wouldn't even—"
Grimble cleared his throat. Purposefully.
The twin witches turned and faced him.
"Hello." They said in perfect unison.
"Morning." Grimble looked at them both.
He'd only ever seen a few witches in his life. Mostly on projectors at the head of crowd speeches where they looked larger than life.
The Morrengrave twins didn't exactly follow that mold.
They were both short at five foot flat and had short professional haircuts. Bobs with middle parts on opposing sides. They both had black hair with naturally purple highlights and purple eyes that popped from the backdrop of their tan skin.
While most other witches— usually of higher levels, had more aggresive arcane mutations, theirs started and ended with purple eyes.
They made up for their lacking magic with personal spunk.
"Come, have a seat." Moira referred to the seat across from their desk.
"Yea, don't be shy. It's not like you've known us for ten plus years or anything." Maleena added. "You were so much happier back then….."
"Let's get on with the case." Grimble said quickly.
"Let's get on with you smelling like orc-tits, Grim!" Maleena spat.
"They have a smell…?" Grimble dusted off his trench coat.
Maleena smiled, partially sideeying her sister, "He's banging his complex-queen."
"Sleeze…." Moira commented.
"She better not be married." Maleena added.
"She hates men."
They both stared in confusion.
"I'm an exception."
"Clearly. I guess someone appreciates the tired disheveled look." Maleena said.
Grimble eyeballed them both for an awkwardly long amount of time.
Maleena sighed with irritation before she began rummaging through her desk and pulled out a file to hand to him.
"You never inquire about our lives." Maleena pouted.
Grimble took the case file.
"That's probably because he can tell what we had for breakfast by the dilation of our pupils or some other bs." Moira replied to her sister.
"Star-slug salad and chicken-heart tea." Grimble mumbled as he weighed the case file and smelled it.
"You sure you can't do magic?!" Maleena asked.
"How….." Moira added.
"Your eyes are three shades lighter. The crows are antsy. Star-slugs are in season and chicken-heart tea is on sale at the The Couldron on eighth street." Grimble explained.
"Show-off." Moira rolled her eyes.
"The devils in the details." Grimble huffed.
"I hope not." Maleena replied.
"Well, I hope he's not in here either." Grimble opened up the case file. Any bit of slowly showing personality or even happiness that might've been showing in the goblin faded as he read the details.
Moira and Maleena shared a worried glance before Maleena began speaking.
"Terrana Leonhardt…." Maleena started, "Well known Fae Spokesperson, low-level inter-species Liason, Civil-Rights activist for Goblin and Orc kind as well as animal rights against wood elf poaching groups. She was officially declared missing twenty-nine hours ago. She goes missing frequently to avoid hate groups and technically whenever she spends excess time in the Fae-Realm. The police received a Court-Order that allows them to disregard Incident Reports and Investigation Reports in relation to her. That leaves them to us. All you have to do is report to the Fae-Courts and either escort Ms. Leonhardt back to the mortal-realm or simply report that she is alive and well. Simple."
Grimble cleared his throat as he flipped through the case files. The pictures of Terranna were mundane. Not the usual shots of bruising, cuts and magical scarring. Just a young fae-woman. She had dark brown skin like bark on an oak tree. Her eyes were the greenest green you'd ever see. She had her nappy hair tied down in long thick braids interlocked with beads and silver hoops. A necklace of hybrid silvers with a emerald seed pendant hung from her neck. She was pictured at a rally, passionately speaking to a crowd of people. The sun was her spotlight. The sky was her backdrop of clear-blue wonder.
Grimble closed the files and looked up at the twins.
"A little birdie told me…. You drew your gun on a merc today." Maleena said.
She was being literal as well. If Grimble had a sense of humor he'd laugh. He didn't. "He assaulted me."
"I see."
"Do you feel like we've assaulted you?" Moira inquired.
"Are you gonna shoot us or not?" Maleena cut to the point.
"I'm going to ask why…." Grimble said. "This….. this isn't for me. This case— I mean."
Moira and Maleena side eyed eachother. Maleena took the chance to speak, "Grim. We've put you on the toughest cases for the last four months straight. The alchemist drug-ring in Dawn-harbor. The elven-assault gangs out east. The superstar thief case— that took weeks of overtime and sleuthing. I figured you deserved a break."
"And a second chance…." Moira added in an almost whisper.
"People don't get second chances in Dusk-haven. And I didn't ask for one." Grimble said.
"So you won't take the case?"
"No. Give me something serious."
Maleena crossed her arms over her chest, "You can't just refuse cases you don't want to do. Especially when you've been requested."
"By who?" The case was becoming less of a dream and more of a nightmare.
"The Chief of The Enforcement Corps." Moira replied smugly.
"We've got traction." Maleena winked.
Grimble felt his pulse quicken. He needed a smoke, "Wait, what— the Chief— Alan Vanagand?"
"Who else?" Maleena asked.
"That makes sense to you?" Grimble asked as he sat up.
"Why wouldn't it? He has the power to delegate paperwork and choose who gets what. We work beside and internally with the Enforcement Corpse and Mercenary Guilds….. unfortunately." Maleena said.
"Did the Chief say why he wanted me?" Grimble asked.
"You have an impressive success rate with cases all across the board. Homicide, Domestic Dispute, Property Dispute, Arson, Necromancy. Better than most detectives on his team. By choosing you to do this job, it pleases the public who worry that Ms. Leonhardt would be set up after the case is tossed to less qualified folk. Now he can say he's got one of the best PI's on her case. And as a result, he's more likely to get voted in again at the next election for Chief. It's just politics."
Grimble's jaw muscles flexed, "Arent you forgetting a crucial piece of politics?"
"I don't think so." Maleena said matter of factly.
"I do." Grimble huffed.
"What?"
"I'm a Goblin. You know, the thieving conniving criminal scum of the earth?"
"Oh come on, you're not a full-blood." Maleena waved him off.
"Do you think the general public will care? The same general public that voted for— Nevermind. This doesn't make sense."
Moira rolled her eyes and pulled out a magic mirror from her desk.
It was a frame of braided woods and feathers with a water surface that went impossibly deep. She faced it towards Grimble.
"Come on, look at yourself."
Grimble didn't do that often.
He was tall for a Goblin— but still shorter than the average human male by a couple inches at five foot eight. Like all goblins, he was wiry. Not an ounce of fat on him. Just tired sinewy muscle and bone. As a goblin he had both elven and orcish heritage which came in the form of his defined cheekbones and slightly longer bottom canines. They'd never grow into tusks, but they were long enough to put him in danger. His razor-sharp jawline was lined with stubble from days without shaving. His skin was only faintly green. Barely noticeable and his eyes were the faintest blue. He kept his hair combed back and out of his eyes.
That only made his sharp ears more noticeable. If he didn't have pierced ears and neck and arm tattoos, he'd probably be passible as some sort of elf. Then again, his long nose wasn't exactly in the current elven beauty standard, so maybe not.
"For what it's worth, you're handsome…."
"Medium handsome." Moira corrected.
"And you're not well known by the public. If you keep your head down and just complete the case, what you are won't matter. Remember, it's all about Ms. Leonhardt."
"...how could I forget?" Grimble stood up with the case file in hand.
"So, you'll take the case?" Maleen smiled.
"I don't have much choice."
The sisters cheered. "We've got transport set up for you to head to the Fae-Courts through the Dusk-haven portal."
"I'm not going there." Grimble replied as he headed for the door with his suitcase and shotgun in hand.
"What?! That's where the officers said she is." Maleena replied.
"Sure. But I'm not going to see her right away." Grimble replied.
"Who then?"
"The Chief of the Enforcement Corps."
"What? Wait— I don't think he was expecting any feedback—"
"That's not how delegation works!"
The door had already closed and Grimble was on the move.
When he stepped outside, he felt the city beginning to swallow him in its chaos once more. He couldn't drift now. He was on the clock. He had a case to complete. He had questions, hunches, curiosities— and a building full of bigots with tech magic firearms to waltz into.
"Yea…. defintely a nightmare."