“I found him, sir.” The guard interrupted. He stepped through the door just long enough to make the announcement and then shuffled out of the way.

The escorted individual growled as he marched in, obviously disheveled and smelling faintly of a brewery. If not for the hour, his normal state of disrepair would have been egregious, but with dawn still a far distance from the horizon, it would be normal to expect someone just pulled from bed to be as sloppy as Donagut was.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Nall?” the houndfolk asked, trying to arrange himself into something approaching a professional appearance. His appearance objected to that, intent on putting up a fight and perfectly content to be unkempt. Nallry ignored him and addressed the detector’s escort instead.

“He was at the tavern, wasn’t he?” The captain of the Enforcers of the Great City asked. The look on the younger officer’s face answered the question more adroitly than words could and Nallry nodded and sighed. “Stop grousing Fydorian, we both know I didn’t wake you up.”

“I was in the middle of important business, I’ll have you know.” Donagut responded, ears flat against his head and lips curled slightly. He hated when the Captain used his first name.

“Drinking isn’t business.” Nallry answered for what felt like the hundredth time since they’d met.

“Shows what you know.” Donagut said while tucking his shirt into his pants. His demeanor was quickly shifting as his nose went to work, smelling one thing far more strongly over the scent of cheap booze and other questionable scents clinging to his clothes. Blood hung in the air, and for once, it wasn’t his. “What made you drag my sorry hide out to deal with a crime scene?”

“Two things, actually. First, I can already tell this one is strange and the normal enforcers aren’t paid enough for strange. That’s your job. Second, the vic is important enough that it dragged me out at this hour, so if I have to deal with it, I’m not dealing with it alone.”

“Stop grousing, we both know they didn't wake you up any more than you woke me." Donagut responded, Nallry snorted back, obviously in a mood.

"Some of us work for a living, Donagut."

"Yeah, well, looks like we both get overtime tonight. Someone important have an accident?”

“Our victim is Rue Morgan, seventh seat representative of the Crown District. Important, but not high enough to be more than another face in the Echelon.”

“Just important enough that he has to ruin our night? Okay, I get why you have to be here. Again, why drag me into this?”

“Because you’re an alcoholic and need the money. You know that I know that’s reason enough, Donagut.” Nallry said with chiding concern, as a parent would an errant child. He looked askance at the houndfolk while Donagut did his best to look elsewhere. “More importantly, there was only one way in or out of the room.”

Donagut glanced at the heavy door, dark wood polished to a mirror shine. His ears flattened with a creeping suspicion he wasn’t going to care for the answer he was about to get.

“And?”

“It was locked when we got here.”

“Son of a… “ Donagut growled, hands flexing like he wanted to hit something. “You’re really going to do this to me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Captain and the guardsmen had already filed out, leaving Donagut alone with the sprawled mortal remains of Senator Morgan. Most of the enforcers present were gathering statements from the shocked house staff, but Nallry was keeping a more leery eye on them, looking for minute signs of guilt that the mostly bored enforcers taking the statement might miss. Donagut, unfortunately, had the worst of it.

The former senator had apparently done well for himself, itself a little suspect if not unusual. Senators were paid a salary from the taxpayers. Most somehow managed to live extravagant lifestyles well outside their means. It was funny how that didn’t seem to worry any of them.

At least, Donagut found it funny, in a not at all amusing way.

The room managed to avoid being ostentatious while still being horribly decadent, every visible surface the same finely hewn dark wood that gleamed in the low light. Heavily shaded sconces shone with the steady shine of illuminating crystals, giving the room a diffuse, ambient glow. The walls were all covered with inset bookshelves, and just for the sake of being thorough, Donagut pulled a few tomes at random just to make sure Nallry hadn’t missed a hidden door.

Disappointingly, the Captain appeared to be frustratingly competent at his job.

He moved on to the largest thing occupying the room. The desk in the study dominated the space it was in, a feature that it must have been carved for. It struck an impressive visage for whoever sat behind it, and probably tilted any negotiations in their favor by merit of sheer size and presence. The damned thing was heavier than any bed that Donagut had ever slept in, and the immense edifice loomed over the fallen senator’s body.

Sighing, Donagut had avoided it as long as he could. He pulled the flask out of his pocket and took a few deep pulls from it, glad that he’d had enough time to fill it before the rest of his night had gone sideways. Wiping his muzzle on the rolled sleeve of his shirt, he exhaled and got to business.

Donagut closed his eyes and took a deep inhale of the room, his nose twitching slightly as he did so. The stench of partially dried blood hit his nose strongly enough that it made him want to double check he wasn't bleeding. As overpowering as it was, there were more scents under that, more important ones. The harsh, almost alcoholic smell of Nallry’s aftershave. The rich, loamy smell that must have belonged to the victim. The citrus scent of woodwax that covered almost every inch of exposed furniture.

Donagut took it all in, matching the subtle traces of odor that belonged to the servants he’d passed coming in and guardsmen he’d known for a few months. It painted a picture so strong that it was practically visible, but as Donagut opened his eyes, it faded from his potential view. It didn’t tell him much, for better or worse, but he could rule out one important fact.

Whoever had killed Senator Morgan was familiar with the place. It was an inside job.

Donagut chewed his lip as he turned that one over. His nose wasn’t flawless, having been broken a time or two in the fighting pits, but it didn’t usually lead him stray. The detector didn’t much care for the implication, but there was still the chance that Senator Morgan had killed himself.

Glancing at the corpse, Donagut doubted that. He would have been impressed if the man had chosen to commit suicide by melting his own arm off. The damage ate into his chest and up his neck as well. It wasn’t the worst scene Donagut had seen, but it was one of the more… creative.

Donagut knelt to get a closer look. The victim had been wearing a plush smoking jacket and pajamas underneath, giving the detector an idea of when the crime likely had been committed. His outfit lined up with how congealed the blood had grown, meaning this was several hours old. The look of shock and pain on the Senator’s face ruled out whatever remaining doubts he had of foul play. Most sane folks didn’t do things to themselves that made a face like that.

Donagut tilted the corpse’s head, getting a closer look at the wound that had killed the victim. There was a light sheen to it, and Donagut ran the pad of his thumb through it, feeling a thin, slick, oily film that he rubbed between his fingers until it evaporated. That was odd…

For that matter, now that he was taking a closer look, he begrudgingly had to admit that Nallry had a point. The crime scene was strange and would have been even if the door hadn’t been locked. There had obviously been a struggle, the contents that littered Morgan’s desk now littered the floor, but the desk itself was sturdy enough that there was no way four people could move it, much less two. The contents of the desktop had ended up scattered all over the carpet, odd crystal pieces and what looked to be a cold brazier. It all raised questions, but the first question among the rest was… where was the senator’s arm?

Donagut stepped out of the room, finding Nallry at the end of the hall. The captain stood on the mezzanine overlooking the senator’s foyer while down below the guardsmen were in the midst of their interviews. The detector leaned against the balustrade next to the senior officer and shook his head.

“I hate to ask this, but did anyone move anything in the room before I arrived?”

“Donagut, what do you take us for, a bunch of rookies? We’ve been upholding the Ordinances for longer than your scruffy hide has been in this city, we know procedure.”

“In fairness, I’ve only been here a few months, but I get your meaning. This one is strange enough that it’d be foolish to rule anything out. Where the hell is his arm?”

“It’s just gone. No evidence of it in the room, and before we got here the door was locked up tight.”

“What did the forensic sorcerers turn up?”

“There wasn’t any evidence of new sorcery, if that’s what you’re thinking. The wound had no magical traces on it at all, just whatever that greasy substance was and that doesn’t match any alchemical fluids on record.”

“Well, that answers my next question.” Donagut chuffed. “So we have nothing on what killed him. What can you tell me about who our victim had been?”

“Mostly what I’ve told you already. Started as a seneschal for the Port District and joined the Echelon after one term. He got into office and never did anything again, basically just votes however his seniors tell him to, never made waves. Someone clearly invested in him.” The look Nallry gave the manor could have chilled Donagut’s flask. “But, politically speaking, he was essentially a nobody. A cooperative vote for the people that make the real decisions.”

“Politics can be cutthroat, but this is too sloppy to be political. Which pretty much leaves a personal motive. Do we know anything about his relationships?”

“No telling whose pocket he was in, not until we shuffle through his ledgers. We’re still interviewing the staff, but they’re shaken up. As soon as we’re finished, you’ll have the notes.” Nallry scratched his cheek as he looked down at the enforcers speaking to the help. They’d been separated, spread across the foyer, but there were no surreptitious glances across the space, no body language that spoke of collusion. None of them had the air of guilt about them.

“Donagut, I have the chain of command breathing down our necks about this case. Having a senator die under suspicious circumstances is bad news, so they want this solved quick. If they don’t get an answer as soon as they like, they might start just looking for people to take the fall.” Nallry’s face twisted into a grimace at that. Not all the members of the Enforcers were honest, but Nallry was a true believer in the Ordinances. It didn’t settle with him that an innocent person might go away for a crime they didn’t commit.

“I’ll do what I can, but we’re clearly missing something about this.” Donagut sipped at his flask again, screwing the top back on as he hoisted himself off the rail. “And I mean more than just his arm. If you need answers, I might have to tamper with some evidence. Can’t keep the crime scene clean forever.”

“Do what you have to do, Donagut. Just do it quick.” The Captain’s dismissal told Donagut how bad the Echelon wanted blood. Nallry was as by the books as one could get, but he made no illusions about the necessity of getting to the truth.

The detector nodded again and headed back towards the scene, steps muffled beneath the rich carpet. Just once, he’d have liked to have something nice for a change. He knew he’d probably just sell it for booze money when times got tough, but for a moment it’d be nice to have something expensive. On the other hand, while wealth had its privileges, in the end you still ended up dead.

Coming back into the room, Donagut paused. Something about the scene had changed and his ears shot up as he looked around, unable to put a finger on what. He finally settled on an orb that wasn’t where it had been before. Had he made a mistake?

The more he thought it over, the more he was sure it had been on the other side of the room. Now it was in arm's length of the body. Or a lack of an arm's length. Frowning, he cautiously approached it, glancing about at the other ornaments that had fallen in the kerfuffle. It would seem the good Senator had a predilection for collecting crystal balls. Several had once sat on the desk before they were removed during the scuffle. The majority remained where they had been.

But this one had been moved.

Leaning down, Donagut took out his pen and nudged the orb. It wobbled unevenly, but otherwise remained inert. He prodded it again, but still nothing happened, and throwing caution to the wind, the detector picked it up. It was a deep red orb encased in a shiny green outer layer, quite at odds with the clarity of the other orbs the Senator had.

Holding it, he took a deep sniff, catching a strong whiff of the same loamy, almost minty smell that had marked the victim. Raising one brow, he ran a hand over the surface, noting how slick it was, almost fluid and the outermost surface gave slightly under the pressure. Curious, he thought.

Placing it on the desk, he noticed a thin film on his palms from where he held the thing and again, as he rubbed at it, the fluid evaporated. Examining the evidence again, he considered where he’d found it, concluding it must have been the last thing Morgan had been holding when he’d died.

Leaving the room, and very definitively closing the door behind him, he made his way back to the Captain, glancing over his shoulder as he walked. Someone had to have been in the room while he’d stepped out, and the possibility that the murderer was still in the house was very real. He was sure of that now, not having smelled any new scents when he’d returned to the scene.

“Back so soon?”

“Nallry, we have to lock the doors to the manor. I’m sure whoever did this is still here.”

The captain looked at Donagut and immediately started barking orders, guards saluting and moving to execute the lockdown.

“Alright Donagut, what’s your lead?”

“Are we sure that everyone is present? Did anyone manage to slip away before I stepped out?”

“Everyone is accounted for. The guards are giving interviews to the only people that were present when they found the body and our people have been with them every moment since we arrived on the scene. You want to tell me what this is about?”

Donagut rolled his lip between his teeth as he considered what Nallry had said. He didn’t know why, but he just had a feeling that someone had been in the room and moved that orb.

“Nallry, I trust my nose to steer me right more often than not. It’s been telling me all the scents in the house are accounted for. There’s not another scent in that room that doesn’t belong to someone out here. The thing is, when I went back just now, someone had moved a piece of the crime scene. I think it’s what Morgan was holding when he died. The fact that someone went back for it… Maybe the motive isn’t political, maybe it’s financial. I think someone wanted a trinket Morgan had.”

Donagut growled softly, chewing at a claw absentmindedly. He felt like moving, but standing on the overlook to the foyer, he was afraid he might miss something, afraid the staff might give something away, or…. Well, Nallry was an honest Enforcer, but the Great City was known for as many crooked Enforcers as it was for crooked politicians. He knew Nallry couldn’t deal with them all, as much as he wanted to. Some of them had protection.

But if it was one of the guards, that left too many loose ends. Most importantly, he only had the vaguest shape of a motive, and jumping to conclusions on that was downright stupid. If he needed more information, that pretty much left only one option.

He had to go down there and get it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Admittedly, when he’d asked for a room to do his own interrogations in, he’d been thinking of something slightly more like the cells at Enforcer headquarters. The kitchen simply didn’t have the same austere and intimidating quality. It was, in fact, downright homey.

Donagut couldn’t really fault the Enforcers for their choice, time and space both being as limited as they were. The fact he’d already raided the pantry and icebox for something to settle his stomach after all the drinking, well… Donagut would make do with the kitchen, if he really must.

“Alright Donagut, we’re ready for your ques- are you eating?” Nallry scowled and Donagut licked his chops, blithely ignoring the beef sandwich in his hands.

“You have no evidence for such an outrageous accusation.” The statement was mildly ruined by the burp that bubbled up as punctuation. Nallry squeezed his eyes tight and left the room. If it had been a regular case, he probably would have kicked the detector out right then and there. He didn’t like the situation, but it was nice to see the straight laced Enforcer have to put up with him more than he normally would.

As Donagut took another bite from the sandwich, a middle aged woman entered the room. Her uniform was primly pressed and absolutely at odds with her demeanor, the darkness under her eyes and worried step. To Donagut’s assessment, the only thing keeping the woman together was the fastidious way she kept tugging her uniform to make sure it was still exactly as she left it. Shock had her coming apart at the seams, and picking at the seams seemed the only thing she could cling to that was normal. When she caught sight of Donagut, she froze, struggling to take in the detector.

In her defense, he wasn’t really normal.

Houndfolk like him were totally unheard of in the Great City and chances were that she’d never seen anything remotely like him before. He was used to it, but it didn’t make it any less irksome to deal with at times. He cleared his throat and set aside the half eaten food, straightening himself in his seat to appear a bit more professional.

“Come in, take a seat.” Donagut waved to the table across from him. She hesitated, seriously considered abandoning being a rational person for a moment, and then dumbly closed the distance and dropped into the chair.

“I’m sure it’s been a very tiring day with all the events. I’ll try to keep this brief to not overburden you.” Donagut smiled, and despite the oddity of his appearance, she couldn’t help but give a nervous smile in return. She must have been a dog person. “What’s your name?”

“Erisbeth Donnely.” She answered tiredly.

“Erisbeth, I’ve got a few questions that can maybe help solve things. I believe you’re the one who discovered the Senator, am I correct?”

“Yes. He often locks himself in his study following dinner on nights where he doesn’t have any business. It’s usually either to read or send messages to associates.”

“And how long does he usually stay up doing this?”

“Normally it doesn’t take any more than a few hours, but after he retired tonight, he didn’t reappear when he normally goes to bed. Time kept passing and most of the rest of the house went to sleep, but I was getting worried. I tried to knock to find out if he’d, perhaps, fallen asleep at his desk, but there was no answer. At that point, I fetched Thamesworth, and he summoned the Enforcers. Apparently he’d been told earlier by Margareet that there had been some commotion in the study. Given Master Morgan’s wishes, we knew if we suspected something amiss, we were to summon the Enforcers.”

“So no one opened the door before the Enforcers arrived?”

“No sir, Master Morgan was explicit in his instructions that we were to never disturb him in his study. We could check on him, but once the door was locked, it was magically locked.”

“Magically?” They didn’t tell me that, Donagut thought. “Was the senator a sorcerer?”

“Yes, though…” She glanced about the room and leaned in closer, fearful that the shade of the senator might somehow eavesdrop. “He wasn’t very good, all told. He made quite the production of being more talented than he really was. He considered it a mark of reputation.”

“So you summoned the Enforcers because you needed a wardbreaker. Hm…” Donagut chewed that over with another bite of his sandwich. He knew there was something strange about the order of events, and if the door was magically sealed, that gave him a better picture of why the servants hadn’t found him before the guards had. “Was there anyone else that might have been able to counterspell the lock? Anyone on staff?”

“No, sir. Master Morgan valued our skills, but well…” She leaned in close again, “He’d never employ anyone who was more skilled than himself. Beyond how he felt about his personal security, well… it would have made him feel very insecure.” She laughed at that, though it quickly turned into a strangled half-sob as the pressures of the evening threatened to push her past her breaking point. Erisbeth struggled to collect herself and Donagut fished in his pocket for a handkerchief to loan the woman. He hoped it was clean.

“I think I have enough from you, Erisbeth. I can get the rest from someone else.”

She nodded, valiantly biting her bottom lip to keep it from trembling as she mopped at her face with his handkerchief. She stood and practically dashed out of the room before he could say anything and he grumbled as she left. He’d actually wanted that handkerchief back…

He turned over what he’d learned while he absently finished the sandwich, knowing Nallry and the guards would send the next person in once they’d finished with them. So, Morgan had been a sorcerer, but more charlatan than mage proper. That might explain the unusual accessories in his room. Would it also explain the manner in which he’d died? An experiment gone wrong?

But no… the forensic mages had said they’d found no trace of magic in the air. Spells left disturbances almost as distinct as scents, and the forensic mages didn’t make mistakes like that. Unless they’d been paid to make that mistake, but again, that just didn’t settle with Donagut. He didn’t think this was political, a gut instinct told him so.

If this were, then they wouldn’t have found nothing. They’d have determined it was an “accident.”

Donagut chuffed as he ran the evidence over and over in his head again, unable to escape the fact that the killer must still be in the house. His nose didn’t lie, nothing in the study smelled amiss. He still couldn’t pin down a motive either. Donagut just didn’t have enough to go on.

And though he hated to admit it, it was late and he was tired. Nursing a bottle of whiskey until he was nearly passed out had sounded great a couple of hours ago, but he hadn’t expected to still be up. Donagut pressed his fingers between his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as he tried to rally himself for the job at hand.

A knock on the door interrupted his reverie and Nallry stuck his head back in, glaring slightly less since the detector wasn’t still eating. He nodded to someone on the other side of the door and stepped out of the way as a swarthy individual strode in with motions as crisp and proper as Erisbeth’s uniform had been.

Immediately, something was off about him. Donagut could tell.

He was tall, uniform immaculate even at this hour. Even at his best, Donagut felt like he would have looked shabby next to him. He took in the detector and seemed unimpressed by his appearance. He proffered a small nod, about all the bow he surmised Donagut deserved and took the seat where Erisbeth had sat.

“Good morning, sir. I’m sorry to have to meet you under such unorthodox circumstances. You may call me Thamesworth.”

Donagut’s eyebrows drew together. The man was a quintessential professional it would seem. If he demonstrated any distress about his employer’s condition, it seemed unimportant to the current interaction.

“Alright, Thamesworth. I hear you were the one who summoned the Enforcers.”

“That is correct, sir. As per Master Morgan’s instructions, should something go amiss, we were to immediately summon the constabulary. It is regretful we seemed not to have found him in time.”

“I don’t think time would have been much of a factor.” Donagut snorted. “What do you do in the manor, Thamesworth?”

“I am the Butler, sir. I manage the household so that Master Morgan need not be bothered.”

“Yeah. I know what a Butler does.” Donagut growled.

“One doesn’t find it prudent to assume, sir.” Thamesworth answered plainly. Donagut stared at the man, almost willing him to say something offensive, but despite his wishes, the detector had to accept the statement at face value. Even if, and especially if, he didn’t like it.

“Wise words, I suppose. So I won’t assume you know the state your employer is in?”

“Master Morgan has perished, I’ve been informed. Other than that, I would daresay I know less than you about the matter.”

Donagut studied the man again, but the butler’s demeanor was impeccable. If he seemed at all worried, there wasn’t a sign of it on him, which was terribly disconcerting to Donagut. Normal people didn’t talk about murder in the same tone they used to discuss bringing the wash in off the line.

“What were you doing tonight, Thamesworth?” Donagut drummed a finger against the table, staring intently at the man across from him.

“The budget, sir. Master Morgan was intent on having a dinner party for several of his cohorts in the senate following their next session. I was to prepare the budget to account for that expenditure and arrange the necessary shopping.”

“Do you know what they were going to discuss?” Donagut asked, perking up a little at the prospect of getting something he could use.

“I believe it was to be a casual dining experience, sir. I would not be a very good Butler if I pried into the Master’s personal business. Sir.” Thamesworth answered curtly. It would seem Donagut finally found a way to get under the man’s skin. He sniffed in amusement and froze.

“Your scent! That’s what’s off.” Donagut bolted upright, leaning over the table to take a closer inspection, something entirely unnecessary, but it seemed to rattle Thamesworth to have his personal space invaded.

“Your scent has changed. Why?” Donagut asked. Having been put off, Thamesworth hesitated for a moment.

“I… can only speculate that perhaps you refer to my having washed my hands?”

“Why?”

“It’s what one does when one uses the lavatory.” Thamesworth answered in confusion, somewhat offended at the prospect that Donagut didn’t wash his hands.

“If you washed your hands, it shouldn’t really change your scent, so why did it?”

Thamesworth looked taken aback, not only because of the unorthodox questions he was being asked, but as if he suddenly had something to hide. The butler cleared his throat and tried to recompose himself, and finally made a somber admission.

“I’m afraid that I have perpetrated an impropriety, sir.”

“That what you call murder?” Donagut growled.

“Sir! I shall not have you besmirch my name. I am no murderer. I merely… at the Enforcer’s insistence, you must understand, used the Master’s bath suite, rather than the servants’ quarters.”

“What?” Donagut asked after a stunned silence. It was Donagut's turn to be confused.

“It is a breach of etiquette, sir.” Thamesworth said with great dignity. “A servant mustn’t use the master’s quarters. However, I had to avail myself of the facilities and the Enforcers insisted I use the nearest facility possible. Under guard, I should add. If my ‘scent’ has changed,” he managed to sound offended at that, “it is because I used the Master’s soap rather than the servant’s.”

Donagut took a deep breath, trying to reconcile this new information.

“Was it new soap?” He asked, a slight pleading tone to his voice.

“No, sir. It is the same soap the Master has used for years now. Spearmint and sage.”

“Well… damn.” Donagut got up and briskly walked out the room, passing Nallry without stopping. The Captain’s head darted back the way he came and he jogged to catch up with the detector.

“Where the flooded hells are you going? Are you done?”

“I screwed up, Nall.” Donagut groused as he crossed the foyer. “I jumped to a conclusion before I even realized I had.”

One doesn’t find it prudent to assume, sir. The words echoed in Donagut’s head and he growled. Yeah, bite me, Thamesworth, he thought in answer.

“What do you mean, Donagut?” Nallry asked as they leapt up the stairs.

“The victim’s scent. I got it wrong.” Donagut chuffed, shaking his head. “If I hurry, I might be able to track the smell I picked up, maybe find who did it!”

Donagut burst through the door with Nallry right behind him. And the pair immediately slammed to a halt at the tableau they found. Donagut’s eyes darted to where he’d left the orb that had been moved. It was missing.

And so was everything below the corpse’s belt.

However, for better or worse, Donagut believed he had found the killer. It just… wasn’t what anyone would have probably expected. A large gelatinous mass was piled up on the carpet, a small red core swimming in the green slime of the body and a single thick tendril turned to regard them, a quiver running through the entire body.

“Donagut, what the hell is that!?” Nallry asked, hand flying to his truncheon, not quite ready to go for the short sword next to it.

“That would be an ooze, Captain.” Donagut answered. Oozes weren’t native to the Great City any more than Donagut was.

“So how do we deal with it?”

“That’s an excellent question.” Donagut admitted.

The pseudopod head of the thing swiveled back and forth between the pair, craning to see outside the door while Nallry called for reinforcements. Donagut studied it while it studied them, but as the guard’s showed up, the creature quivered again and the detector got the distinct feeling it was… scared.

Heavy boots thudded down the hallway and extra bodies filled the room as the Enforcers got their first look at the creature. It nudged itself away from the crowd, the appendage darting around nervously as they approached. It retreated further and further from the hostile guards until it finally bumped into the corner of the room.

With nowhere left to go, the ooze shuddered and the core within its mass blinked with a flash of light, vanishing. The rest of the mass immediately lost all semblance of life and collapsed into a spreading, gooey mass to the disgust of the gathered guards. They all jumped back to avoid the cascade of slime that followed and Nallry swore.

“Is it dead?”

“I don’t think it’s going to attack, at least.” Donagut answered, stepping away from the slowly seeping goop. "I think it might have gotten too scared."

“So it died of fright?" Nallry asked in a disbelieving tone. He sighed and shook his head with a grimace. "How the hell am I supposed to explain this?”

“It would seem the good Senator Morgan, possibly unintentionally, adopted a creature that promptly… well… ate him.” Donagut cleared his throat and glanced back at the viscous body and shuddered at the thought. “You should probably get a jar for the evidence. Several jars, for that matter.”

“Yeah. I’ll need a written testimonial from everyone in the room too.” Nallry said, frowning. He knelt down and swirled his club in the slimy mess that had apparently killed the senator. “You see anything like this before, Donagut?”

“An ooze? No, I’ve heard of them, but this is a new one for my books.” Donagut shrugged. “The Great City attracts its fair share of strangeness, though.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t usually stranger than you, Fydorian.”

Donagut growled. He hated when Nallry used his first name.

Was the killer I? I found the turn of phrase of Nallry's last line suspicious, and the sudden disappearance of the "core" smells (heh) of 'walking.

Correct! The culprit was none other than I!
Bwahaha!

But seriously, making that statement was at least a quarter of why I wrote the story

I like the story. Huey's description of it being "short and tidy" is very accurate. I really like how self-contained this story is. This is, I believe, the fourth Donagut story (not counting a few small vignettes), and I like that this showcases Donagut in a small scope, high-stakes, short-on-time case. I did not see the culprit coming, although my very first thought when the locked door was mentioned was planeswalker, so I was at least on the right track.

I really liked using Donagut's sense of smell. We really haven't done much with that yet, so it's a good evolution of the character by giving him another angle from which he can work on his mysteries.

I don't love that characters continue to casually throw around Donagut's first name, but I do like that you lampshaded it in this one with Donagut's response to it.

I really like the killer. It benefits from meta-knowledge of the M:EM and who I is, but I don't think it needs it. I suspect that without that knowledge, this feels sort of like what Donagut briefly assumes it to be: a failed magical experiment. But I really like that you played up (or at least mentioned) I's fear. I is very much out of its element in the multiverse, being ripped from its collective consciousness and cast adrift into the Eternities, and it makes sense that it would be pretty frightened there.

I also find it ironic that both Donagut and I usually appear in first person narratives, but the story that has both of them is in third person. I'm not entirely sure WHY that amuses me, but it does.

Are you going to talk about Erisbeth and Thamesworth in the minor character thread?

Thanks for posting, Barinellos. As I've said elsewhere, I always enjoy a good Donagut story, and it's always cool to see characters I created being used by other writers!

I was really worried that the pace might be too clipped, but I still felt it important to add in a few extra steps to set up what it wasn't so that the remaining possibility, no matter how improbable, still felt earned.


Yeah, it's something that I briefly touched at in my other piece, but it wasn't as plot sensitive.
I feel like it's something that gets underutilized in a lot of fantasy when you have nonhuman characters that are essentially just human. Huey really gets this idea, for example, and I try my best to add some layers of distance between such characters.

I tried really really hard to make sure this one stood on its own. While metaknowledge enhances quite a bit, I felt like trying to make sure the piece was well self contained. I don't even talk about the multiverse in here, but when you bring the knowledge in with you, it makes for a richer experience.

Yeah, just from the very onset of this one, it just didn't feel like a first person story to me. There's probably a few ways I could have spun it, but it just felt right in third person.


Of course!
I still have that pulpy action story for Donagut in the clip too. I might chamber that one while I have a taste for it.

I also started to stir up an idea using a reeeeeeeally old character of mine that never found her way to the archives, but I get the impression it'd be a lot heavier story, both content wise and word count. I'd likely need to approach it a mite more cautiously.