[Event Fiction] Death of a Detective

[EMDrosselmeyer]

Sheffield guffawed loudly to Avery’s latest joke as they shared a last drink of the evening at the Cat’s Lair bar. He’d meant to be on his way earlier, but Avery had gotten into a talkative mood and the Chief Detective wanted to keep him company as he was able. His head swam a bit as he stood, but he was sure he could handle himself. He didn’t get his rank by being a slacker, after all. As he stepped out of the bar, he once more drew the paper from his pocket. Clutching it in his hand, he made his way past the renovated First Bank of Britain and towards the Tinker’s Guild. He thought he heard something behind him, and had turned, but spotted nothing. Frowning a bit, he turned back to the door of the Tinker’s Guild and pulled on it, only to find it locked. He looked at the paper once more, and then went to peer in one of the windows. He heard a very soft noise behind him, and turned with wide eyes as he tried to grab the axe slung over his back, but his movements were slowed from his drunkenness, and his opponent was in far better condition. He knew before he was even halfway through his draw that it’d be too slow, and he tried to throw himself out of the way, but he felt the touch of the weapon and it wasn’t as painful as he thought it would be. In fact, it just felt cold. All he felt was cold, and tired…