The Paladin Short Stories

The damn city never did stop. There were enough back alley deals and criminal actions happening every minute to keep even the most industrious of law enforcement officers busy every hour of every day. In the end, most of the officers weren't industrious. Even the goblin and dwarf officers were being overwhelmed, leaving the humans and elves to pick up the slack. They didn't do it that well. Maybe that wasn't the most conscientious thing to think, but Detective Bes Vinders always liked to remind people that he had a dwarf for a partner. He was a little taller than most dwarves, indicating maybe a mixed lineage down the line, but the Detective Ian Wolmark always hated that anyone would think that. He was just a tall dwarf, end of story. Of course, Vinders wasn't from Renfold. His parents had emigrated from Verrisar, from the north after the war. There were more job opportunities in the port city states, they told him. He didn't even remember the move. He couldn't have been more than three years old at the time. People liked to say that he had an accent. His mother had the same accent. She stayed at home most days. Father was a staunch Believer, which meant that women stayed at home, while he went to work at the docks, interacting and talking with the locals. His accent disappeared within the first year of moving. Vinders had left the man's house as soon as he was old enough. He'd put himself through the local school and got an education. put himself into the police force. He hadn't talked with his father in years. His mother he contacted every month, as well as the holidays, and her birthday. She contacted him on his birthday. Nothing that his father every was aware of she told him. "Hey, Bes, you with me on this?" Vinders blinked, looking around until he saw the thick beard that his partner wore. It was a cultural thing, he always said. People from the Being Resources office had stopped asking him to comply with the department's regulations for personal grooming. It had been a landmark legal case a few years back. "Yeah, I'm here," Vinders replied, running his hands across his chin and looking around it. Night in Renfold was always warm. People that lived in the city said that they loved the heat, that they'd moved away from the Northern City States after the War and the Mist to enjoy the beaches and the hot summer air all year long. But the fact was, this deep in the Chapters, there just wasn't any wind. The whole place felt stuffy all summer, and then the rains came, making everything feel a little cooler, but in fact only made it muggier the next day. Vinders didn't know why people enjoyed it, but he never left because all the other city states were even worse. The lights were glaring, with the images flickering across the screens, telling him about the next experience that was to be enjoyed in the Chapters. Not all of them were legal, but too many officers were caught up in dealing with more important matters. Nobody cared about a little victim-less s*x or illicit substance dealing. Hell, it helped the economy. The guys that were caught were released quickly. Soon they stopped caring about being picked up. It was a cost of doing business, and the business got a lot more profitable if they were advertising on big billboards. "What the hell are we doing out here?" Vinders asked, looking around the sidewalk. He meant the question for himself, but Wolmark thought that it was directed at him. "What are we... there's a body." So there was. Vinders eyes moved over to where a tarp had been laid out to cover the dearly departed. People were still coming along and peeking over the line that was meant to keep them out. They were curious. Death was commonplace in the Chapters, but it was still enough to draw a crowd. People wanted to know what was going to be in the new cycle the next day. "Who are we looking at?" Vinders asked, taking a peek under the tarp, hearing a few phone cameras clicking as the people behind him tried to catch a glimpse. "Caver Marwin. Half-elf bodyguard-s***h-driver. I guess this limo here is his. He might even have been working when he was killed." Half-elf. People always used the term when they knew what the other half was. Humans tended to mix up with almost anything, and yet they were the biggest advocates for purity for some insane reason. Hypocrisy always felt like irony in these instances. Vinders dropped to his haunches and lifted the corner of the tarp. The sight of what was under the tarp told a story all its own. Crushing had happened. Blood was all over, but it hadn't spread in a puddle, which indicated that he was already dead by the time that he was dropped to his final resting place. Vinders knew the answer, but he was going to ask anyway. "What was the cause of death?" "Crushed skull," Wolmark answered. "Crushed spine. Broken neck. Take your f*****g pick. From the looks of things, he was standing right here on the sidewalk, and something or someone picked him up, and bashed him into the wall up there." The detective looked up to where his partner was pointing, and sure enough, about fifteen feet up, on the wall, there was another splatter, a lot more explosive than the one on the ground. "What do you think?" his partner asked, looking over to Vinders, who shrugged. "Trolls are big enough, but the passive f***s wouldn't do it. Probably apologize just for bumping into him. Fix in a half-troll, but they're a lot smaller. My thinking... probably a mechagolem." "A mechagolem? Pretty sure you can't find those in the civilized world anymore." Vinders smirked. "Yeah, because all those technomancers that were so gainfully employed during the war that suddenly found themselves out of a job, left with nothing were going to leave all their skills to rot and find something else to do. There's a lot of money in building those hulking giants, and not even that difficult. Don't even need the military grade equipment for it, not if you only need it for one job. Just to come out and kill one guy." Wolmark nodded, taking a note of the observation. "We should probably take a look at the technomancers in town. Shouldn't be difficult to run a spectrograph over their businesses and homes to make sure that they haven't been dabbling with anything over the established limits." Vinders looked up at the sound of the officers at the perimeter. They had been pushing people away ever since they arrived, and most of the people tended to leave close enough alone, but the officers were reacting to someone that was getting too close. "I'm sorry sir, this is an active..." The officer stopped talking. The man - human, from the looks of him - immediately pulled a badge from the inside of his coat, showing something bright to the officer. The officer reacted like he'd been stung, jumping away from the man who ducked under the police line and made his way over to the body. Wolmark tossed Vinders and odd look, and they both moved to intercept. "I'm sorry, sir, this is a closed crime scene." Vinders placed a hand on the man's shoulder, pulling him to a stop as he looked up into the detective's eyes. There was something off about the man. He was wearing a coat. Nobody was wearing a coat. Vinders was in a dress shirt and he could still feel that kind of sweat that made him dream of the air conditioning of his cruiser. It was dark, and the man was wearing dark glasses. The way he moved. He looked like a snake, always in motion, sizing the two detectives up like he was about to spit venom at them at any moment. And yet, he looked perfectly human. There was a hint of scarring around his jawline, and near his temples, raising suspicions in Vinders' mind which only needed the confirmation of seeing the badge that he had shown to the officer at the perimeter. It was in bronze. A lion with no mane on top of the sun. Vinders realized that he still had his hand on the man's shoulder, and quickly pulled it off. "Sorry, I didn't realize..." His voice trailed off as the man smiled politely at them. "We just don't know why a case like this would require the talents of a Paladin," Wolmark explained. Vinders nudged his partner. "No real complaint, mind you. Having someone of your... esteemed skill practically means that this case will be solved and off our plates as quickly as possible." The man's smile turned a little more genuine as he offered his hand in greeting. "My name is Cal Jormund. I've been instructed to assist you two in the investigation of this particular case." "Why would a Paladin being called to assist in a run-of-the-mill murder investigation?" Vinders queried. "Sure, there are some interesting aspects to it, but you'll find that in every other kill around the Chapters. Folk in these parts have gotten creative." The paladin eyed them for a couple of seconds from behind his glasses. Not being able to see his eyes was a little unsettling, but Vinders had heard the stories. Paladins had once been humans, but not anymore, they said. Relics of the war that had been relegated to peacekeeping now that they had no more battlefields to prowl. Maybe seeing those eyes would be even worse than staring down the emotionless, reflective surfaces of his glasses. "My skills were tapped not because of the creativity of the murder, which is admittedly interesting," Jormund explained, looking around the scene while otherwise standing perfectly still. "The murder itself is not the crime that I was called in here to investigate. No, it was the kidnapping." The pieces started to fall in place for the two detectives. The victim was a driver and a bodyguard, and a simple look at his clothing and the car that he was driving said that he was working. If he was working, the question of where his client was sprung immediately to mind. "I'm going to guess that you know precisely who it was that was kidn*pped," Wolmark grumbled, crossing his arms. "Something your heightened senses will likely have picked up." Vinders did think the same, but the placid look on the Paladin's face as he turned his attention back to the two detectives. "Not at all. I do in fact know who it was that was kidn*pped, but merely because that was the reason why I was summoned to assist in this case. The victim, aside from the unfortunate and dead Mr. Marwin, was the singer that performs under the name of Carina." The two detectives shared a glance, and the dwarf couldn't help a chuckle. "f*****g sirens," Wolmark laughed, shaking his head. "You'd think that they could put the same voices that earn them millions into keeping themselves safe." "Chances were, her voice wouldn't have been able to drive off the mechagolem that attacked her," Jormund countered. "That is what made the kill so interesting to your minds, yes?" "Of course," Vinders cut in. "That was my assumption, anyway. It seemed like the most likely cause of... well, you can see how he was killed." The Paladin nodded, and Vinders thought he could see a small smile on the man's face as he looked across the evidence that was already being inspected by the various investigators brought in from the nearest police station. "What do you think happened, detectives?" "A mechagolem wouldn't have been able to move for too long without being picked up on traffic cams, or hell, just people filming on their phones," Vinders continued, feeling a little pleased that the Paladin wanted to hear their own version of events. "It would have been activated nearby, with the technomancer being in close proximity, probably on the sidewalk as well. The siren would have climbed out of her vehicle, and then they struck, killing the bodyguard first, and then grabbing the target and getting away quickly. They probably had transportation around nearby, waiting for the word to come and pick the team up." "Could it not have been a half-troll?" the other detective interjected. "Maybe an orc half-breed which would account for the aggressiveness?" "It is possible," Jormund conceded. "But not very likely. Half-trolls like to kill with their own hands, and confirm them, from my experience at least. Orc instincts would add to that effect. You would see crushing around the neck, slashing across the chest with the claws. Whatever did this had no interest in the driver aside from getting him out of the way quickly and quietly, without any sign of a fight until they were already gone." Neither detective really wanted to know how he knew about the killing practices of orcs and trolls. The defunct Empire was said to use the notoriously aggressive orcs and their similarly vicious hybrid offspring as their enforcers, the shock troops of their armies. The stories about the atrocities committed were probably mostly propaganda, spread by the Rebellion to drive up recruitment for their own armies, but there were instances of those atrocities having been committed. "Either way," Jormund stated, immediately breaking the silence that was starting to last longer than was comfortable. "We can stand around and concoct theories all we like, but there's very little that we can act on without any actual evidence. We'll need to look into what has been gathered by your collective team, as well as what can be acquired in the local cameras and uploaded online locally by the populace. No sense in holding to what we think until we actually have facts to work with." It sounded suspiciously like the man was going to leave, and Vinders wasn't sure how he felt about that. "I'll be heading back to your station to speak with your superior, having him know that the resources of the State will be at his disposal for this investigation, and I'm sure that there will be plenty of eyes and ears tuned in to what is happening. I would prefer to get out ahead on that." And with that, he turned around, and moved away. Again, Vinders couldn't quite place what was wrong with the man's movements. Maybe it was that certain parts weren't moving that should have been. None of it looked uncoordinated, but it all looked annoyingly inhuman. Like he was gliding across the ground instead of walking on two legs. Vinders shook his head, dragging himself away from staring at the retreating relic, and turned back to his partner, who looked similarly unsettled. "What do you make of him?" the human detective asked, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes that hadn't been there for the past three months. It was more instinct now than need, but every time he did it, he was reminded of his old habit and was left with a bad taste in his mouth and a sudden craving. "Not sure," the dwarf admitted, running his fingers through his thick beard. "The man's probably skilled. And it's the first time that I've ever met a Paladin. A story for the grandchildren to be certain. Even so, I'd rather it be the last." Vinders chuckled. "You know it won't be. He'll be talking with the captain now. Chances are, we'll be working with him for the duration of the investigation. Assuming, of course, that the captain doesn't assign anyone else to the case. Would be a shame, that. This has the makings of a career maker." "I know. Still conflicted, though. Can't see a way where this doesn't end with the State stamping a 'Confidential' sign across the entire case and threatening us with prison time if we ever talk about it again." "We're saving the life of a famous singer." Vinders found that he was suddenly hungry. Or rather, in need of having something to chew on to distract himself from the nicotine addiction that he had just put behind him for the third time. "We should probably get back to the station before things start spiraling over there. But first--" "I know, I know, we'll stop by to get something to eat. Think I don't know why you're fidgeting like that?" "Sorry, I've been trying to hide it from you. Don't want to annoy you to death." The dwarf chuckled as they left the crime scene and started heading back to their cruiser. "Honestly, I'll take the jerky mannerisms over the constant smell around you and in the car. Let's get you something to eat. But let's do it quick." Vinders realized what his partner knew more about him than he was willing to admit. They had been working together for going on five years now, which meant that they knew enough about the other's mannerisms, but Vinders had to admit that he didn't know much about the dwarf outside of their working relationship. "What would you have said if I'd told you that we were going to meet a Paladin out here today?" Vinders asked as his partner started the cruiser up, heading down the street as more uniformed officers started arriving in response to the news of the k********g. The chief was likely anticipating the number of people that would turn up once the news of who had been kidn*pped hit the waves. "Probably wouldn't have come in to work," Wolmark commented. "Claimed some kind of religious exemption and taken the day off." Vinders shrugged. He knew why people disliked Paladins, but they had always been something mystical to them, and for him that was interesting. Not much in the world was allowed to be mystical in the world anymore.