The second the dame walked in the door, I knew she was trouble. Then again, I needed the money. In my hard-boiled way, I asked, "What seems to be the trouble, miss...?"
"My name is Urist McNobleWealthy. I need you to investigate the murder of my husband, Urist McStrongStrong." She passed some photos of her late husbands death to me. It showed him with his neck crushed between a door and its frame. His neck was flattened like the New Lashedwhips Times. The killer had to be very strong. That meant an easier case for me. The strong ones usually weren't the brightest.
"Do you know if he was meeting anyone before his death?" If the man had died from illicit dealings with the mafia, I wanted to know before not after. I had already dealt once or twice with the mafia, and they didn't take kindly to strangers nosing around in their business.
"He was sparring in the barracks with roughly ten other warriors at the time, but I don't know anymore than that." Just like that, I knew this wasn't going to be an easy case. Either way, this stinked of something rotten. I was going to get to the bottom of as quickly as possible. I would have to be careful though: if someone squished this mans neck like a grape, I had to be sure that I kept my crossbow on me at all times. But it was just her luck: the case had caught my attention.
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If one of your dwarves somehow killed him, I'm pretty sure that they would list his death under their kills. I don't know if that would happen if the dwarf merely died from the injuries later, though. Another dwarf crushing or slitting his throat by accident during sparring seems to be the best bet.