This story is a small fiction following the events of my group’s first session of Blades in the Dark, John Harper’s excellent haunted industrial roleplaying game.
Watch Sergeant Renata Laroze, ranking officer in the Duskvol City Council’s Lawful Cohort (“Bluecoats” to the rabble, so-called for their distinctive navy blue jackets), rubbed her tired eyes and tried again. This night was proving far more taxing than her Myst-addled brain could handle. She kept getting flashes of some ghost’s desperate longing accompanied by a shooting pain through her sinuses. Blasted low-grade stuff from a street hawker, nowhere near as good as Riven’s.
“So let’s go over this again,” she said, surveying the bloody, quivering scoundrel sprawled on the cobblestones before her. “What exactly were you up to tonight then, cully?” The pale man closed his eyes and groaned, pressing a scrap of torn cloth to the ghastly wound near his shoulder. Run through by his own blade, she recalled. “Well?”
“I – I didn’t see anything. Please,” he rasped, painfully. “I need a physicker. Let me go, I swear, I didn’t…” His mumbled pleas broke off into a scream as Renata leaned forward and gripped his injured shoulder firmly, curling her fingers into a malicious claw. Around her on the dock-front, the other Bluecoats didn’t so much as look up from where they were combing through debris or castigating witnesses. Only the small, rotund Inspector with their strange glinting eyepiece glanced over knowingly. Renata shivered a little, and it wasn’t from the Myst. Something about this Inspector creeped her right the kelp out.
“Look, numbskull. It’s one in the morning, we’ve scraped about six of your friends off the boardwalk and you have a hole in you bigger than Lord Strangford’s Leviathan Six, Immortal Emperor protect him. So how about we cut the crap and you tell me just what you saw, hmm?”