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Paint the Town Red pt.1: The Best Offence is a Good Defenestration

A cool sea breeze blew off the port and up Prince Dakkar Boulevard leaving a chill in the few people who still walked the street at this hour. It signaled the end of summer and the rapid approach of autumn. There was something calm and serene about the proceedings of people coming in and out of shops, the streetlights flaring on and shopkeepers sweeping their front steps after a long day. Serenity in New Babbage however, is a fleeting thing.

A loud crash and the shattering of glass caused many to scatter for cover as a man burst through the window of Alley Cat’s Pub and laned on his back in the street. qute quickly the commotion inside the pub became appearant to those on the main road. Inside a lone wolf moreau found himself restrained by a motley group of moreau and a few humans, all of whom now stood frozen and staring out through the suddenly opened window, taken slightly aback at how the wolf had managed to throw a man halfway across the room and street. Some began to question why they were fighting, and the wolf used this to his advantage as he broke free.

The group of bar patrons tried to ract to the wolf’s movements but were ultimately too slow to prevent him from escaping and drawing a heavy wooden truncheon from inside his coat. One of the patrons charged the wolf, his fists raised to attack, but his target sidestepped the charge and swung the truncheon into the man’s gut.

As the attacker fell to the floor two more charged the wolf, one wielding a knife and the other a broken barstool that had been smashed in the fracas. He caught the knife wielders’s arm as the man pushed him down against the bar, the knife aimed for his chest.

The wolf’s eyes flashed and his paw grew slightly as his grip tightend around the other man’s wrist. there was a cry of pain and the clattering of metal as the knife dropped to the ground. The wolf practically snarled as he spun himself out of the hold he was in and slammed the other man’s forehead into the bar with a loud thud. The other man swung the stool at the wolf, who easily ducked the drunkard’s swing, his truncheon swinging into the back of the bar patron’s knee sending him crashing to the floor, the bar stool landing heavily on top of him.

The wolf stood, unbloodied and growled at the others in the bar who had stood up to join the fight, all of them sat down, tails tucked between their legs in both the figurative and literal sense. He smirked as he walked calmy back to the bar and grabbed the small shot glass of whiskey he had ordered when he first enterd the bar, before he had begun questioning the patrons about prometheus. He nodded to the bear standing behind the counter before downing the drink and spinning around to face the other patrons.

 “Now, where was I?” the wolf asked himself “Oh right!” He exclaimed as he clapped his paws together. “Prometheus. I know he’s hung out here before, I smacked enough marxists and anarchists around to gather that much. Now, I want to find the man himself. Some of you.” He said again glaring at the six patrons now laying injured on the floor and throwing one glance out onto the street “Took exception to my line of questioning.”

Most patrons just looked at their drinks rather than the wolf. The bear behind the bar seemed to be getting annoyedand removed his hat, this seemed to be a message as the bar patrons all seemed to quake in fear.

He stared at the bar patrons, stopping his gaze long enough to make eye contact with them one by one.  “Let me ask again. Where is Prometheus?” Wright said, more annoyed now considering the fight he had been through.

he spent a few moments looking about the room until he had made eye contact with just about everyone, most were defiant, some genuinely knew nothing, others were just afraid, and then there was one, who kept averting his gaze.

Wright watched the small human with interest, he didn’t even notice the bear, Baird scribbling something in chalk until he was practically jabbing the message into his back. The large wolf took the small chalkboard in his paws and read the names.  “Hally or Olivia.” he said, stroking his chin “Who are they?”

Baird began speaking in bear rather excitedly, and Wright cocked an ear to listen to his explaination. He also observed that the small human had become quite interested in the direction the questioning had gone.

“A firebrand.” He said as baird finished speaking. “You think she knows much about this Prometheus?”

“What is this about ‘Prometheus’?” the man in the corner said rather meekly

Wright turned hearing the man’s cough and question cough over the groaning patrons “I’m looking for him”

“Well, I can’t help you find Prometheus, but why would you need to see…Hally?” The man questioned the larger wolf.

“She’s a lead” wright responded to the man who nodded slightly, looking at the men on the floor and then back up at the wolf.

“Well, you might want to ask Mr. Richfield in Quarry Hill where she might be now.” He said plainly.

“hmmm….Mr Richfield, quarry hill you said?”

The man nodded “He runs the Baronne Insurance agency there.”

Baird made a series of displeased growls at the mention of richfeild. Wright could only assume he had wronged him.

Meanwhile the human in the corner looked increasingly frightened.  “…please don’t hurt me.” He said, his voice shaking

Wright smiled warmly, surprisingly so for a man who had just threw someone through a window. “You ain’t given me cause to bring harm to you” the wolf said as he pulled a cigar out of his coat pocket, his smile faded upon realizing it was crushed and useless.

Baird once again let out another frustrated roar as the conversation about Mr Richfeild

Wright sighed and searched the coat pockets of the men still writhing on the floor “Not a fan of him either, are you?” he says to the bartender as he pulled a miraculously intact cigar from one of the men’s coats.

Baird looked as though was about to go into a whole rant, but stopped himself and sighed heavily. Over in the corner the small man began to speak again “Mr. Richfield was my landlord for a time though he never fixed anything or put any effort into…anything beyond his own well being.”

“I don’t think very many people have had their claims paid out by the company either. Slumlord would be more accurate.”

Baird DuBois roared and grumbled loudly, wright nodded his head and listened.

The little man began to make his way out of the bar, appologizing meekly to the unconcious patrons he accidentally stepped on on his way out. Wright sighed after the patron had left. “I’m going to have to pay this mr Richfield a visit.” he says before turning to the bear. “I’ll also have a word with him on your behalf if you like.”

Baird growled and grumbled in his native tongue, and Wright nodded understandingly, he left money on the counter and again apollogized profusely fro the damage as he made his way out of the bar. The wolf decided not to go by the main street and insted ducked out through the back alleys and made his way towards quarry hill.

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