You know the saying ‘A city’s only as good as the bricks it was built on’? If you haven’t don’t worry, I just made it up. But the saying is true enough, and boy this city has one shaky foundation. Allow me to back up and help catch you all to speed.
Here in the glorious sunny city of Rantoul we’re kind of… different from most cities. Sure we got a cafe on every corner, pay our taxes, and have to duck for cover when we lose a major football game same as any other city. However we’re different in that well quiet simply we believe Angels and Demons exist. We know this to be true cause in most coffee joints you see a man with angel wings whipping up some mocha frappuccino and in every bar you usually see a person with horns running the till.
If that remark didn’t spell it quite clear for you all, this is a city of magic where literal angels of heavens and demons of hell live together. Along with of course the whimsical spirits of reality and nature known as the Fae, and the living dead known as Mori. Zombies, ghouls, vampires, ghosts, liches, you get the point. Oh and magic lives and breathes and flows through the city as the air we breath. We humans have for years learn to master and understand magic to the point we can incorporate it on a day to day bases. And if you think this sounds like a paradise… it really isn’t.
A couple centuries ago the city of Rantoul didn’t exist in any form of stability… or clean streets for that. Used to be one large battlefield where forces of angels, demons, fae, mori, and mankind fought for dominance over magic all due to power craze. In a world of magic there has to be some kind of balance and unfortunately for us that came in the form of Ley lines. Ley lines you can think of as some massive lightning rod for immense magical powers. He who control ley lines control magic, and face it who doesn’t want absolute power?
Then something happened to change all that, but what eh… that kinda changes based on whom you're asking. Accounts vary from being to being and no one that is still alive from that time is in any mood to talk, but the most popular theory is that a bunch of ragtag kids from all races formed a band of heroes and saved us from destroying ourselves. Through the power of rock and roll, that addition is optional and is also popular with the kids.
But regardless after that the races decide to try to live in peace, and thus this city, Rantoul was founded on a promise of peace, tranquility, and prosperity for all. Sounds nice on paper I know but well that kind of deal needs a lot of manpower behind it. Not long after that they formed the Grand Council, a group made up of each race to bring peace to everyone… through a generous amount of red tape, regulating spells, and colorful coats.
Naturally not everyone is happy with peace for everyone. Rebels gonna rebel after all and throughout the city hidden away you can find snippets of old grudges and self validated righteousness, even after two hundred years. Demons form mafias, angels form vigilantes, mori go into politics and become lawyers and the fae… well no one even knows what the fae do, they change every season. And outside of gang war you get your more… classic troubles.
Such classics such as items being stolen, people being murdered or ran over, drive-bys, cheating spouses, and every other petty and not so petty criminal idea you can think of, and a few you might not. And that’s where I, Ferro Kumori, come in. I’m what is known as a Black Coat, think of it as a magical private detective. People come to me with problems such as a missing animal, lost items, or want to see if their lover isn’t cheating behind their backs. And more problems, but you get the gist. There is always a case for me to do usually, course today was one of those cases I wish was… not as life threatening.
I remember it well. There I was in my office enjoying some tea and music over the radio. The peace, the quietness, the paintings on the walls as I was reorganizing a few old files and case works in my nice cheery office when the door swung open with the bells ringing off. A woman with wild unruly blonde hair and a slightly torn blue number holding the door open her hazel eyes wild, crazed, and most of all… desperate. I knew I was in for a rough ride the moment she open her mouth and these words flew: “They took my son!”
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