[color=00a99d]"Aw shit"[/color]  Balto mumbled as he saw the rest of his precinct arrive. They were a motley bunch and included two people capable of killing him with ease. This was one of the many problems Balto faced as a guardje shared his badge with some scary people. If you could call a mutant people. Now he was not one to point fingers and talk about purity. But magical mutants were fucking wierd. Animals that walked on two legs and acted like they owned the place. Mainly becouse in the slums, might was right. And mutants were mighty indeed.
 
 
[color=00a99d]"No. Certeinly wasn't the goblin. The explosion was to neat. To controlled."[/color] He looked about him for any trace of culprits. [color=00a99d]"Who blows up a damn crypt?! The undead don't keep valuables. I mean, yeah a vampire might hoarde a little but exploding the crypt to get to it. I hardly think so.[/color]"  Balto said as he looked to the dwarf, who was a veteran of these streets. And, as a gang member, knew very well that you didn't fuck with vamps or the Necros in general. There was a guard policy that anyone killed in the pursuit of crime, was to be ignored and the papers written as "Eartly Justice done" . If you were dumb enough to go down into a crypt or one of the subterran catacombs in order to rob some dead bloke, you were on your own.

No. This didn't add up and balto hated illogical crime. They were often political in nature. Now people though of politics as the big pomps game. They were fools. Everyone could play on political levels. It was just more localized. Gang wars were all about politics. Racial politics ended up causing Cleaver Street to run red with blood a good thirty years ago. And his own kind was hunted for slightest missdemenor becouse Religion. And what was religion if not more politcs with a fancier dresscode and worse parties. No. everyone played on politics and it broke logic with a stoneclub to make even half the opposing view make sense. 

[color=00a99d]"shit."[/color] His heart dropped as he walked around to where some people had gathered. Carved into the brickwall there was the words "[i]Let the Dead Lie.[/i]" and "[i]This city is for the living.[/i]" It was politics allright. It was worse then politics. It was a goddamn messy "Us vs Them" politics. Dwarves, Orc and even Demons all had one thing in common. They wer enot dead. This had the potential to get real ugly.This was "The Living" vs "The dead" and unless the Guard set their foot down it would escelate.

 If they didn't find the culprit and held him responsible, others would think it was free season on the unliving. And there were enough thralls and lost undead in the Necropolitan to cause quite the uproar should they decide to suddenly care enough to riot.

"We are gonna have to ask for actual resources for this one boys and girls." He said, staring at the massive carvings. "I might even ask for a damn raise." He surmised before turning to the others. "Right. spread out. Look for clues to what was used. Boom, your demolation fetishists, you can tell what stuff they used right?" He looked to his mutant collegue "Uh.. I'll see if I can't talk to some witnesses. But I'll need someone intimidating to back me up. "

He meant of course, he needed someone that would assure him the person didn't lie or run away. A goatman was hell on two legs with a foul temper. Best interrogation tool he ever encountered.  

[color=00a99d]"Right. Questions?"[/color]