Sickly clouds of industry hung over sharp steel tumors belching fumes from tall towers, while mere mortals mixing magic and technology floated in the heavens strapped to the under-bellies of giant balloons. This world was very different from the plains to the far west, and among the grimy sea of dark-skinned workers and weathered travelers walked a wary warrior, his sapphire eyes scanning sullen faces in the crowd. Dreams of solving mysteries and catching criminals were paltry reasons next to barren fields and wailing babies, but despite the acrid air and defiled dirt, the black-haired man wore the navy leather of the city watch proudly, head filled with the smiles of his family as he returned with money and food. The azure-eyed guardsman grimaced at the cloud of piss and oil that wafted out of an alley as he passed, but paused with interest as he spotted a tall man in a tan vest who grabbed the shoulder of one of the stained workmen, and turned the dark-skinned man around to face him; the taller man's lips moved, but his words hid behind the bustle of the crowd.

The sturdy brow of the black-haired warrior drew down as he observed their exchange, memories of being shunned by his commander, and nearly every other dark elf in the city, fresh in his mind; yet here spoke the white-haired factory-hand with his fair-skinned counterpart amiably, or so it looked through the crowd. The guardsman locked eyes with the taller man who was pocketing a folder, and concealing the azure teardrop that hung from his neck with a steel-plated glove; then the workman collapsed, and the vested assailant fled into the flowing river of people. Some may have feared that justice would go unanswered that day, but one of the city's finest was already on the case. With gusto he barreled past the victim bleeding onto the stone street and clutching his back, and dove into the crowd following the large sword hilt above the tattered black cloak of the retreating robber. Through shit-stained alleyways and over plague-ridden bums the chase continued, until finally the would-be detective puttered to a stop with sweat pouring down his grimacing face; he gagged and turned from the questionable puddles, ambling back out to the street with the blue gem clear in his mind. Clues were always important.

The ebbing currents of people revealed no great insight, loudly flowing through steel canyons with glass windows to the heart of the city, but the black-haired warrior stared anyway. One of the pair of well-dressed dark elves who exited an alley across the street forded the stream of people to approach the shorter fair-skinned man in blue; ebony lips moved in silence under the roar of the crowd, and the azure-eyed warrior shook his head in dismay. Soon the guardsman's face brightened, though, and he was escorted across the street to meet the dark elf's companion. The two men brimmed with conviction, which had the shorter nodding in determination; a flicker of confusion did pass across his face, but it was smoothed by silver tongues. The trio headed against the current, to the outskirts of the city, and though the would-be detective's eyes gleamed with a thirst for justice at first, over the course of several hours of scouring every greasy nook and gritty cranny they began to dull. It was only when the heavens grew dark and stars rose on the horizon that hope was yet again kindled.

Belched forth from the greasy embrace of a shady tavern the vested villain walked, and from a nearby alley emerged the trio to follow their prey at a safe distance. It wasn't long before the cloaked criminal slipped into the enveloping shadows of another alleyway, and his pursuers were swallowed by the same darkness moments later; the guardsman's pace slowed for the first few seconds as he blinked his eyes. He caught up with his dark-skinned companions a moment later, weaving around the many grimy crates littering their path, just as the malicious mugger rounded another corner. The three men picked up their pace, but came skidding to a stop when they found their prey calmly awaiting them, and just as the shorter warrior opened his mouth his companions cut him off. The guardsman's face wrinkled in confusion as the dark elves grew louder, so he stepped back and reached for the city-issued short sword at his waist as he eyed his companions; the feeling of cold steel sliding in-between his ribs was surprising, he didn't know anyone could be that fast.

The other white-haired warrior rushed the man in the vest, and his companion tried to join him, but turned back surprised when his sword wouldn't slide free. The black-haired man's hands were wrapped around the blade, and the dark elf backed away from the roiling flames in those sharp blue eyes. The signs were obvious now, and the would-be detective pulled the sword from his chest; he cried out, and his vision blurred as blood pooled at his feet. His sharp sapphire eyes locked with those of his dark-skinned betrayer just before the man's head flew free, and as he toppled over he managed a smile. The smell of the alley was overwhelming this close, but luckily the man in the tan vest flipped him onto his back, and he gazed up into the black void above him. He'd always found it odd that no stars could penetrate the cloud of filth hanging over this city, like the people here had built a barrier between themselves and the heavens. His mind turned to his family, and the alley walls faded to black as he paid the price of his ignorance.