Unbeknownst to Fomoria, Mosley had already been given an interpreter/partner to help him with his duties.

She was a bumbling Dague woman who took her demotion, one meant to keep her out of the way of others, as a promotion, since she was working alongside Special Investigator Mosley.

Mosley was given a partner because while people in and from the UT understood that he was odd and didn’t speak, everyone else just saw him as the strange man who never said a word.

He would go where he wanted, do what he wanted, and due process was more of a suggestion.

Mosley had yet to hurt or kill anyone who he couldn’t later prove was deserving of it, but it was still a bad look to let him do these things without any real oversight.

Bly hit her head on the door frame as she entered the office.

Even for a Dague, and especially for a woman, she was tall at over 9 and a half feet.

Her body was thin and gangly; she never seemed to eat enough.

“Ouch.”

As she knelt down and held her forehead, Mosley gave her a kiss.

“Don’t treat me like a child. Ugh, I’m going to feel that for the rest of the day. And it’s going to bruise, what if a handsome man sees me and-”

Mosley grabbed a bit of butter from his breakfast and rubbed it on her.

When she tried to take it off, he grabbed her hands and shook his head.

“Are you trying to help me?”

He nodded.

“How?”

He punched his desk, bruising his knuckles, and then rubbed butter on it.

“I should go see a healer instead of letting you make my head greasy.”

He shrugged and got ready to go out for the day.

Mosley didn’t have specific patrol routes, and he didn’t follow the orders of anyone else.

Special investigator just meant that they gave him a badge and hoped he would use it fairly to stop crime like he had out in the UT.

“So then my sister tells me that I should’ve just applied for a job as a tree instead of a guard.”

She laughed at her story, but Mosley remained stone faced.

“See, I knew you would find it funny.”

He had found it funny, not that anyone else could tell.

He stopped and raised his hand, so she ducked to avoid being seen; she was nearly as tall as him when crouched.

But also, they were still in the street, so she just ended up looking odd, though she always did due to her body.

He nodded to the left and she followed his eyes.

Once they were in an alley, she cupped her hands and lifted him above her head to the roof of the warehouse.

She looked at him, wordlessly asking if she should come up too, but he shook his head and pointed to the window down the alley, making a fist with one hand while the other remained flat and forward; she understood what he meant.

Mosley crept through along the roof and then pulled out one of his revolvers.

He had been given more than one of the new semi-automatic pistols, but they always ended up ‘lost’ so they stopped bothering when they realized that he just didn’t like them, at which point a box full of the pistols were delivered to the guards armory.

He loaded it with piercer rounds, they went clean through soft targets, leaving only a small exit wound.

They hurt like hell and brought people down, but they were considered less lethal rounds.

Mosley only ever kept one non-lethal round on him.

He used the armor to cut most of the way through the ceiling with a dark beam, and then he stood on it, testing the strength of the stone.

When he reached the right thickness, he jumped, stomping as he did.

He fell with the disk of stone, and he fired three rounds on the way down before his opponents had the chance to even turn around.

Bly smashed through the window when she heard the shots and moved to capture the three Ibexians.

There was a fourth man, a Faun, beaten and bloody on the ground.

Mosley made a short whistle and Bly checked his injuries.

“Not great, but he just needs a healer.”

He whistled again, and she brought one of the men to him.

Mosley spun his gun, opening the cylinder and dumping out the spent rounds before he put another in.

He closed it again and spun the cylinder.

He pulled the trigger, click, and the man jumped.

“Wh-what do you want?”

Mosley put the gun to his own head and pulled the trigger, click.

“ARE YOU INSANE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING.”

“He wants to know why you did this.”

“He was stealing from th-”

Click.

“STOP DOING THAT.”

“Who are you working for?”

“NOBODY, WE-”

Click.

“He-he’s bluffing, right? He’s not really going to-”

Bang, he shot the man through the shoulder.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, FUCK, AGAIN?”

“Shut up, they are less lethal rounds, clean through and through. Now answer our questions.”

“Do I shut up or answer the-”

She kicked him where he had been shot in the leg.

The man was back at attention when he heard the cylinder close again.

“He says the next one goes through your head.

Who hired you?”

“I don’t-”

Click; the man’s nerves were shot.

“IT WAS AR’THIN, AR’THIN THE BLADER.”

“What in the hell is a blader?”

“He stabs people real good.”

“What a stupid name. Boss, who do we do now?”

Mosley raised his gun again, click, click, click, click, click, click.

He noticed that it was off, he knew at least that much about revolvers.

When the man opened his eyes again, he saw Mosley smirking.

He opened the cylinder one more time, dumping out the empty round.

The normal guards arrived, having heard the gunshots and the screaming.

Bly explained everything, but when they saw the pair, they already knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t worth being involved with.

Mosley had never once asked with assistance in his work, he had always just worked whatever case he had.

He would sometimes hand them off, giving a folder that amounted to near exact instructions on how to finish it, but anything he worked on, he worked himself, well, technically he worked it with Bly after she was assigned, but he did most of it.

Mosley took her to a Plest restaurant; they ate somewhere different almost every day.

Things were tense with them, as one might expect, but Mosley didn’t have a prejudiced bone in his body, he judged by his gut, not others skin.

“How did you know that someone was in danger?”

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He tapped his nose and ears once with his index finger on both hands..

“Really? I couldn’t hear anything over all the people.”

He pinched his fingers to his thumb on his left hand and held it to his mouth while he cupped his ear with his right hand.

“I know I know I know, but not talking just isn’t me.”

The waiter arrived to take their order, and Mosley just put his finger tips together and stretched his arms out into a circle.

“He wants whatever your largest dish is.”

He mimed drinking and then covered his eyes with one hand while he fanned his tongue with the other.

“And do you serve coffee?”

“We do.”

“He wants it black, and very hot. I’ll have a salad and green tea with two spoonfuls of honey.”

Mosley shook his head, then pointed at her and made his big dish motion again.

“I’m not that hungry.”

He pointed at her again, stretched his arms vertically and then brought his index finger and thumb close together.

“I’m not too thin, I’m just maintaining a womanly figure.”

He just stared at her with one brow raised.

“Fine, bring me an order of what he is having, and my salad.”

“Do you still want your green tea?”

“Bring me a coffee, but with cream and sugar.”

Mosley gave two thumbs up.

Bly rubbed her stomach.

“I need to use the ladies room.”

When she got back out, Mosley was gone, having already paid for the meal.

“Mosley? Mosley? NED? Oh no no no, he can’t just- You, did you see where he went?”

“The man you were with? He paid and walked out, I think he turned left.”

“Oh no, his office is to the right, he could be doing anything now. How long ago did he leave?”

“As soon as you entered the bathroom.”

“It’s a ladies room.”

Bly walked down the street, tracking him by asking vendors if they saw a scowling human with a wide hat, a silver star on his chest, and with beautiful chestnut eyes.

That last part got her a few odd looks, but ultimately led to her finding him, as a Dague woman who was selling fruits noticed him through the crowd when she made eye contact with him.

She found him leaning against building at the mouth of an alley.

He waved her over and then nodded to the alley.

She peaked in and saw a single Faun man.

Mosley pointed up to the roof and motioned walking with his middle and index finger, then he mimed grabbing onto a rail, no, grabbing the Faun’s antlers, and lifting.

He cupped his hand and boosted her up to the roof; he was enhanced.

Mosley walked down the alley to the dead end.

The man at the end stood on a manhole cover, his antlers were shaved down to just six inches long and with small hats on them, making him look almost giraffe-like.

“What do you want?”

Mosley just stood there and cocked his head.

“Are you deaf? Or just slow?”

He pointed up as Bly jumped down behind him.

When the man turned his back, Mosley cuffed the man’s legs then put his hand over the man’s mouth.

Bly grabbed the man’s arms, forcing them behind him.

Mosley cuffed the man and motioned to her.

She lifted the man by what was left of his antlers, turning him to face Mosley.

The Faun whimpered, assuming that screaming would just get him killed.

Mosley pointed at the manhole.

“What is down in the sewers?”

“Nothing. Why are you doing this?”

Mosley shook his head and punched the man in the stomach.

“Please, I don’t know anything.”

He punched the man again.

Bly thought that she was a fairly good judge of character, and this man looked and sounded innocent to her.

Mosley saw the hesitation in her, so he motioned to set the man down and he took her aside.

Bly carefully placed the man against a wall and then went halfway out of the alley, crouching down so she could whisper to him at eye level.

“Are you sure he knows something?”

Mosley made a V with his index and middle finger, then with his right hand he tapped near the base of his fingers.

“He has a mark on his horns?”

Mosley put his hands on his head and splayed his fingers.

“He has a mark on his antlers?”

Mosley nodded.

“Did the Ibexians have it as well?”

Mosley nodded again.

She quickly ran back and checked him, the man had a small symbol that she thought looked kinda like a dagger, one line straight down and one across that she thought was the crossguard.

Bly quickly ran back to Mosley and crouched again.

“I’m sorry for questioning you.”

He put his left hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

“You think that I should keep questioning you?”

He gave her a thumbs up with his right hand, and they went back to interrogate the man.

Bly had a smile on her face as she held the man by his antlers and asked him questions while Mosley basically used him as a punching bag until he finally gave him what he wanted to know.

The sewer below was cramped.

Fomoria had designed it himself, with the aid of actual architects that is, and the system that he devised used more tunnels that were smaller and filled with slimes to filter and purify the waste so it wouldn’t stink up the city or dirty the river that it flowed into too much.

One of the reasons Fomoria had designed the tunnels the way he had was so that it was hard for people to make it through them, and so there were quite a lot of dead ends and signs that would lead people around in circles if they tried to use them.

Mosley tapped on the wall and took a deep breath as he walked forward into a giant slime that took up the entire tunnel.

Bly shivered when she got through; slimes left behind no residue, they were perfect cleaners.

“I’ve never felt more clean and yet so dirty.”

Mosley stopped and closed his eyes then tapped his palms to his ears, telling her to cover hers.

He fired one around, and then waited.

Mosley turned to the right and started to run.

Bly could only crouch run, the tight quarters removed any speed advantage her long stride gave her.

She caught up to him just in time to see him enter a full equip of his armor.

Mosley had asked Fomoria for two sets of armor, one that was his duster, and the other would be his actual clothes.

There was no reason for this other than wanting to be able to wear his coat over his full armor without sacrificing anything for it.

On Mosley’s back he had six hands that could pass his weapons to him and that would reload the guns he wasn’t currently using.

He motioned for her to peek around the corner.

Two Ibexian men stood in front of a door that led to a smugglers' den; they wore ear muffs with one ear uncovered.

They moved their product and men through the city by mapping out the sewers and guarding the entrances that were out of the way.

Nobody actually checked on the sewers unless there was a reported issue, but with how they had been set up with the slimes, there hadn’t yet been an issue.

“How are we playing this?”

She whispered to him.

He pointed at her and then held his fingers to his thumb, opening and closing them like a mouth, followed by holding his arms out with his wrists facing her.

She understood what he meant.

“YOU ARE UNDER ARREST, DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER. IF-”

They opened fire on her, but Mosley pulled her back.

He tapped the barrels of his guns against his ears before he moved forward.

Mosley went around the corner, the men’s shotguns sprayed pellets which bounced off of his armor, but the force did make him stagger back some.

When the men reloaded, they assumed they were safe in a small alcove.

But Mosley grabbed a different gun with his right hand, one loaded with special rounds.

He shot the wall at an odd angle and the bullet bounced around before it struck the men, not in their hearts or heads, but rather it broke the band that kept the ear muffs on.

When they had finished reloading and returned fire, they instantly blew out their ear drums; Mosley already covered his ears with his armor.

Mosley knocked on the wall and Bly went forward to arrest them.

“By order of the king, you have a right to a fair and just trial without undue delay.

You have the right to defend yourself or to have another defend you.

An officer of the court will be assigned to watch over you if you need to gather evidence.

You may request a trial by jury or judge unless it is decided that one option would be heavily biased for or against you.

You have the right to silence, and it shall not be taken as an admission of guilt should you choose to remain so, but your own words may harm your case.

Mosley, I did it, I said the whole thing without-”

She quickly stood up and banged her head on the ceiling.

“FUCK.”

Her words echoed through the sewers as he gave her two thumbs up, and didn’t even try to explain that both of the men were still deafened, so they hadn’t heard any of it..

Bly was ready to kick the door down, but Mosley waved her away and pressed his ear to the door.

With a click, he simply walked inside.

They were surrounded by counterfeit coins and stockpiled alchemical ingredients used for the manufacture of narcotics.

They looked around the room but didn’t see anyone.

Bly noticed that one of the walls had a seam.

“Mosley, I think that-”

Ar’Thin kicked the false wall, smacking Bly in the face and getting enough of a jump to get behind her and put his knife to her throat.

“DON’T MOVE.”

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM.”

Mosley froze in place as Ar’Thin pushed his blood closer, getting a single drop of blood from her.

“THROW DOWN YOUR GUNS, ALL OF THEM.”

Mosley tossed down the two in his hands, the remaining four on his back, the two on his thighs, and then the two on his ankles.

“NOW YOUR ARMOR.”

He slipped out of both of them, standing there with just his hat and underwear.

“You ever heard of the 20 feet rule?”

Mosley nodded.

“What do you say we have between us, 18? 19 feet? I’m gonna push her aside, and you can reach for one of your guns. We’ll see who can kill who first.”

Ar’Thin had short nubs where his horns used to be, he had been a bad slave, and was punished for that.

“Three, two, one, GO.”

He tossed Bly aside and ran at him.

Mosley lifted his hat and pulled a gun from it, grabbing the man’s hand to keep from being stabbed, putting the barrel under his chin, and then pulling the trigger.

Mosley winced as the shot rang out and he couldn’t cover his ears.

Bly had at least seen what was happening and covered her ears.

Mosley hopped into her arms once he had his armor back on.

“You want me to carry you?”

He didn’t respond.

“Oh, right, you can’t hear me.”

She carried him, not realizing that his enhanced body meant he was still fine and his hearing quickly returned.

But if it didn’t hurt anyone, he wasn’t going to explain.

That and because of the crouching, she was basically holding his face directly next to her breasts the entire way out.