Dachstaht

<p><em><strong>- Extreme Noir for the 21st Century</strong></em></p><p> </p><p>In September 1939 Germany's Third Reich was approaching its zenith. An economic recovery-turned-expansion was bolting the nation to a level of prosperity and international prestige it'd not enjoyed since before the First World War. German armies verged on total victory in Poland were announcing the nation's newly reminted power and final response to the hated Treaty of Versailles as little else could. To a population grown overly familiar with the bitter humiliations of defeat the future looked bright. </p><p>But all is not well.</p><p>With exceptions for geography and human nature the town of Dachstaht looked about the same as any other rural Bavarian town. Same clock tower. Same half-timber houses. Same taverns. Same butcher. Same baker. Same blacksmith. Same fat bürgermeister. It was an old town. Legend claimed the local castle a relic from the 11th century had once been the stronghold of some early Teutonic king. And it was a quiet town. For nearly 1000 years nothing ever happened and nothing ever changed in Dachstaht. Then in 1937 an SS labor camp opened nearby.</p><p>With arrival of the camp's garrison bars brothels massage parlors and boarding houses sprang up everywhere. Then came the contractors salesmen con men scam artists prostitutes girlfriends wives families and other assorted camp followers and hangers-on. They paid rent. They bought groceries. Restaurants expanded. Cinemas theaters and nightclubs opened. The town grew. Everybody was happy until a string of bizarre deaths threatened to destroy everything.</p><p>Arlen Skunk hapless chief of the Dachstaht police department is not a detective. He's not even a real cop. But with a Gestapo drug-lord-wannabe and workaholic labor camp commander muscling their way into his town and a few old enemies still lurking for payback none of that matters. If he doesn't figure out what's going on and do it quickly he will not survive.</p>