Green Robes

“He certainly bled enough,” Sheriff Wintersbane said, looking down at the pudgy corpse.  He pushed his dark curls from his eyes as he looked around the alleyway.  Even in mid-morning, it was still dark here. ‘Perfect spot for an attack,’ he thought.

“We’ve identified him, Sheriff sir.  This is Bannon Brightbough...” a young constable in navy robes said.  He nervously adjusted the badge of office pinned to his breast, a gold heart with scales in the foreground.

“Brightbough.  Dammit.  I don’t suppose, miraculously, he isn’t related to Advisor Brightbough?”

“His Nephew, Sir.”

“Shit.”  Wintersbane looked at the scene more closely.  “This murder just became a lot more important Constable.  Lock this scene down, and then get the head analyst down here as soon as possible,” he said, then turned away.

“Where are you going? Sir?”

“I need to go tell the Emperor’s Advisor about his nephew.  Wish me luck.”  He waved as he kept walking to his carriage.  The same symbol was emblazoned across the door as the pin on the constable, the scales of justice over the Heartsblood family crest.  The Emperor’s family crest.

The green robe had a powerful stain repelling charm woven into it, which was a good thing, because Shinra pulled it out of a pool of blood.  He didn’t have a lot of choice though.  Mages didn’t pay much attention to Zombies, but they would probably remember a naked one covered in blood running through the streets.

When Shinra came to, he had no idea how long he had been laying beside the corpse.  Everything was a blur once the pain had cracked his skull open.  It could have been minutes or a day.  He just knew he had to leave.

His last coherent thought before passing out was, ‘What the hell is an Assassination System?’  He didn’t have any answers when he woke up, but his burns hurt less, and he could swear he felt like he had much more energy than usual.  He took the robe, the dagger, sheath belt, and a pouch that the mage had worn.  He didn’t go through it carefully, but there was money, vials, and small scrolls inside.

‘Just get home, and get cleaned up.  One step at a time.’ Shinra was sticking to the back streets, and  had avoided any close stares so far.  He suspected it was the Mage robes.  They were helpful now, but would raise questions when he tried to leave through the City gates.  ‘The guards might not question a Mage leaving the city, even a dirty one on foot, but they will surely remember him.’  Shinra needed to find different clothes.

He headed to the lower market rondo, where the lowest of merchants and Zombies sold wares.  It was barely day break, and he hoped to catch them before any crowds formed.

“Master Merchant, could we talk? I find I’m in need of clothing urgently,” Shinra said to a short old man putting out small meat pies on a makeshift counter attached to his cart.  The Rondo was mostly deserted, only a few zombies with their sad carts and wares were here this early.

“I’m no master, young sir, just a humble Zombie baker, can’t you see?”  The old man looked up at Shinra, a smile on his face.  Once he saw Shinra clearly though, his expression darkened.  “A zombie, just like you boy.  Why are you bothering me? I doubt you can afford a pie...”

Shinra held up the robe, and did a spin, to show it off.

“I am light of coin, but have this fine spelled robe that I can offer in trade for the fair price of 10 meat pies and a set of clothing.” 

The man looked at the robe closely before responding.  “It is a nice looking garment, but I’m not in the business of buying and selling stolen goods.”  The man turned away to set up more meat pies.  

The aroma hit Shinra then, and it almost brought him to his knees.  He was ravenous.

“I promise on the lives of my parents, good Sir, that this is not a stolen garment.  I will say that I found it, unused by its owner.  I was in dire need too, as, for various circumstance, I was naked.”  Shinra pulled the robe open slightly, revealing his bare chest.    “I would just wear this out to Zombie Land, but the guards will give me a hard time or try to rob me.”

The man looked a touch more sympathetic.  No doubt the guards had robbed him many times.  “I don’t know… it will be hard to sell...”

“Keep it for yourself master.  Not only is this a finely made robe, with delicate embroidery and strong against the cold.  It also has several charms woven in for protection from stains and people.”

The man’s face brightened.  Clothes with charms were extremely rare in Zombieland.

“10 pies is too many. That is nearly my entire inventory.  I will take that cloak off your hands for 2 meat pies,” the man said. He brought his hands together in front, but didn’t rub them together.  Shinra was sure it took all of the man’s willpower not too.

“I know you are joking Master. For the price of some used clothes and a few of your wares, you will receive a functioning mage’s robe.  I know how rare that is down here.  Surely you can secure a better deal than I and make a good profit?  Or perhaps I should ask the master over there.  He seems to have generous sandwiches for sale.”

Shinra didn’t have a lot of time, but he had a pauper’s instincts and wasn’t going to let this man rob him. They both knew that neither of them could afford this robe, and that it was worth more than all his pies, his cart, and his mule.

Shinra walked away in threadbare, clean clothes and a small sack with 7 meat pies.  He already ate one, and was trying his hardest to save the rest to surprise his sister.

‘It feels weird to be armed, but I need the dagger.’  Shinra had taken the sheath and belt from the body, and wore it cross body beneath his new shirt.  This placed the dagger at his side, under his arm, where it wasn’t noticeable.  He wouldn’t be able to grab it easily, but he’d only used a weapon in anger once in his life, and assumed he could make it out of the city without incident.

He was right, by the time he reached the south gates, there was a throng of people waiting to enter, and a smaller crowd waiting to leave.

Tardel city wasn’t just the seat of the Empire, it was also the biggest trading centre in the continent.  Shinra looked up at the imposing walls, 30 metres high and completely smooth, as if grown from solid rock.  Which they might have been.  Tardel was home to amazing sorcerers who could accomplish anything they set their minds to.

‘That is why I need to leave.   Who knows what sort of magic the Sheriff has at his disposal.’

The crime scene now glowed red, gold and blue, courtesy of the spell circles and runes the Analyst had placed everywhere.  Every mote of dust had been taken into consideration by Head Analyst Cedric, and he did not like the story the scene was telling him.

“What do you think, Sir? Is there enough here for you to identify the mage or wizard who did this?” the Constable asked.

“Hmm, well, unless I’m getting befuddled in my old age, it seems like a Zombie did this...” Cedric said thoughtfully.  His methods at backtracking the residue of magic and spells were incredible, and it all pointed to the dead mage on the ground, he was the only person who used magic here.  “Fascinating.”

“Why is that Sir?”

“Because, Constable, it is actually much harder to investigate Zombies.  All of our methods trace magical usage and Spell Power.  This will be a challenge.”  And Cedric smiled widely.