Draining the last drops of peppermint whisky out of the buttercup
and lowering it gently onto the nightstand, Inspector Twinkle
Feathershine sighed, a wheezing rasp that stank of nicotine and regret.
Somewhere, history laughed. The Elves, after their long travels,
troubles, and travails, had carved something of a home out of the Yukon
frost. The streets of Whitehorse, the provincial capital, rang with the
bubbling songs of Elvish pipes. The smells of roasted ladybug and
honeysuckle soup drifted through its snowy alleyways. Elves argued,
cajoled, sang, wailed, and cast spells on its sidewalks and in its
apartments.
This was where they’d been permitted to settle
after the shocking collapse of Elfrealm in 1948, when the young nation
was overrun by a coalition of militant pan-Arabs and unreconstructed
Orc supremacists. Now, 60 years later, the Canadian government was
preparing to take control of the Yukon Temporary Elf District. Once
again, Feathershine’s people would be without a home, rootless,
abandoned, as alone as they had been in the days when humans thought
they were mythical. It was enough to make an elf turn to drink.
Especially one who’d already made that turn every day for thirty years.
But Feathershine was still an RCMP
inspector, for two more months, anyway. He was a Mountie from his
pointy ears down to the curled leather toes of his Elvish police boots.
And that was why he was getting ready to head over to the Pini Hotel.
They’d found a dead elf in one of the flophouse’s rooms, evidently
strung out on fairydew like so many others these days. Sure, he
wouldn’t have had long. But a bullet got him first. And Feathershine,
well, he didn’t want to care. But he couldn’t just look away.
Feathershine
made it as far as the door before it occurred to him: better bring his
Yukon 15003 Elf-1 Generation 1 Night Vision Monocular. Its IR emitter
allowed Feathershine to see for up to 30 feet in total darkness. The
Pini was a gloomy place, but he was thinking about the network of
tunnels below it. They say the tunnels were built by the Commando E
partisans back in the ‘60s, when it looked like the Elves and the
Eskimos were going to war. They’d fallen into semi-disrepair and were
rarely ventured into by sensible Elves – in other words, the perfect
hiding place for a killer. Feathershine didn’t know what its infrared
vision would reveal, what he’d see through its 22mm objective lens. But
whatever it was, it wouldn’t be as frightening as the future.
Warranty: Limited Lifetime Yukon
Features:
- Generation 1 night vision optics
- Fits in the palm of your hand, just 4” x 3” x 2 1/2” and a mere 10 1/2 oz
- IR emitter allows you to see in total darkness from a distance of 10 meters
- Changeable
objective lens, 50/1,7 and 90/1,5 can be used; combined together it
increases the distance of observation in total darkness up to 50 meters
- 1X power optics
- 20 mm objective lens
- 22’ F.O.V.
- 328’ maximum viewing distance
- Focusing range is 1 ft. to infinity
- Fully-coated optics for clarity
- IR uses 2 AAA batteries (not included)
- Comes with a padded nylon carry case with a zippered closure
- Includes a nylon wrist strap and belt loop
In the box:
- Yukon 15003 Elf-1 Generation 1 Night Vision Monocular
- Padded Nylon Case
- Users Manual
