Smoke & Silhouttes

The rain drips like a splash of blood on the window of a small and smoky speakeasy. A young High Elf woman stands on the stage clad in a glittering red dress and white furs, singing to a tune spun out by a band of Halflings. Humans, Elves, Orcs, Dwarves, Tieflings, Faeries, and even the Undead sit at the tables; drinking spirits and sharing stories. Some are simple working folk, keeping the city turning. A few are from the higher rungs of the social ladder, come for a good drink and a better song. Others still are from the mobs that operate in the murky lines between law and crime.   Outside, people hold their collars up to their faces and their umbrellas as high as they can. A young man in a raincoat and trilby casually lights a cigarette with a small flame produced from his finger. An automobile coasts down the street, a spurt of flame pouring out the exhaust as the elemental inside does its best to keep the engine running. An train rushes past on an elevated track propelled by a stream of hot air, operated by a Goblin in a suit.   In a nearby alleyway there's a piercing scream. People quicken their pace. The body probably won't be found until morning. If they were lucky, they had enough connections to get the watchmen to care. If not, it'll be yet another unsolved case in New Harmony City Watch Department's long list of them. If they were really unlucky, some poor sap will be hired to look into their death, and meet a similar fate.   This is the City of New Harmony. It's a place that doesn't deserve heroes, but desperately needs them.