Guardhouse (Law and Order theme can be heard here)

[Drea]

Date: 29th Singing Bird, 3rd Hour of Guardorans (11PM)

"You cannot be serious, Marlon."

"What?  How was I supposed to know they were sisters?  Or they were each betrothed?  I believe that if their men were to think about it, they would see that it wasn't just me in the wrong there."  Marlon Vyddles sat down in the big chair and placed his feet up on the desk.  A smug little smile crossed his face as he stared at the woman across from him at a much smaller desk.

The woman, Pella Fasden, narrowed her eyes at the man.  "You are a dog, Marlon.  And do not come crying to me when you catch fleas."

Vyddles laughed.  "If I did not know you better, Pella, I'd say you were jealous."

"Jealous?  Me?  You wished."  She cocked her head to one side.  "Why are you sitting at Behrns desk?  If he catches you, he will kick you in the-"

"He won't catch me.  It's late.  When does the old man ever stay up this late?  He's probably fast asleep at home right now."

"Get outta my chair, Vyddles, I haven't fallen asleep yet."

The deep voice and the proximity of it nearly caused Vyddles to fall over as he quickly removed his feet from the desk.  He jumped up and hurriedly moved to his small desk.  "Yes, boss.  I- I didn't mean-".

"Grab your gear, we got a body down at the Courtyard Inn."  Behrns headed for the door, strapping on his sword as he went.

"Uhm, yes, boss!"  Vyddle grabbed his crossbow.  Ex-military, Marlon Vyddles was said to be one of the best shots with a crossbow in all of New Santhala.  It was Behrns himself who had approached Vyddles for the job as a city constable.  He looked over at Pella, who was strapping on her bandoleer of small throwing daggers.  "How does he do that?"  he whispered.

"I'm not deaf yet either."

Fasden simply shrugged.  Her boss, Behrns, often left her amazed, which is why she had such loyalty for the man.  She had grown up without a father, who had been a city watchmen many years ago, and was killed while doing his duty.  Behrns had been his friend, and she grew up knowing the gruff man.  She even looked at him as a bit of a father figure.  That was why she wanted to become a constable; to have a connection to her father and to be closer to Behrns.

"Of course not, boss.  Nobody hears better than you."

[Drea]

Date: 29th Singing Bird, 4th Hour of Guardorans (12AM)

They reached the guardhouse with no disruption.  Vyddles took Ferlin into the cells, where he would spend the next few days, if not longer.  Behrns went straight to his desk.  He needed to think.  What was the connection between Oz Jackstrum and Loghin Swerri?  Was there one?  Something in his gut told him that something wasn't right, here.

He took off his sword and hung the belt up on a peg behind the desk, within easy reach if he needed it.  Then went to sit, but stopped suddenly.  There was a canvas bag on the desktop that was not there earlier.  He reached out and picked it up.  It wasn't very heavy, and there was nothing special about the grey canvas; no writing on it or markings.

Setting it down again, Behrns untied the string that bound the canvas up.  Letting it fall open, he raised an eyebrow at the contents.  A green mask lay on the desk, with a single white feather beside it.  What was this?  There was also a small piece of folded parchment, which Behrns lifted and opened.  There were a few words written here.  His brow furrowed.

"Vyddles!"

"Boss?"  Vyddles entered the room and shut the door behind him that led to the cells.  "Prisoner is locked up.  Not sure if he's gonna sleep tonight.  Still a bit worked up."  He spied the stuff on Behrns desk and approached, a grin crossing his face.  "Where ya goin', Boss?  A party?  Not sure if green is your colour.  I think a nice yealm beige is more your colour.  Would set off your eyes-"  The look that Behrns cast the younger man warned him that his boss was quickly losing patience.  "Uhm, I take it this isn't yours?"

"Ya think?  Take a look at this."  The older man handed the note to the younger.  As Vyddles read the note, Behrns cleared his throat.  "Aloud!"

Vyddles' face went a bit red.  He'd forgotten that his boss had not learned to read.  "Sorry, Boss.  I forgot.  I told you, I could teach you how to read in no time at- ... okay, nevermind."   Another stern glance ended that line of thought.  "It says, 'The curse will come.' and its signed, 'The Boatman'."  He handed the parchment back to Behrns after turning it over in his hand a few times, but there was nothing else written on it.  "Huh, not very chatty this Boatman.  A bit cryptic even."

Behrns sat down and picked up the mask and examined it, then glanced at the feather.  What did it mean?

As if echoing his thoughts, Vyddles spoke up again.  "What do you think it means, Boss?"

Behrns set down the mask and grunted.  "I think it means we haven't seen our last dead body."

[Drea]

Date: 30th Singing Bird, 3rd Hour of Daybreak (8AM)

Mmmphh.  

Pella Fasden stood in front of the desk of Marlon Vyddles.  She stood on one hip, arms crossed, her eyes unmoving and a little grin on her face.  Before her, Vyddles was sound asleep in his chair, arms crossed across his chest and feet up on the desktop, snoring loudly.  She watched him quietly for a moment before stepping around the desk so that she stood next to him.  Reaching out, she squeezed his nose shut and held it.

A moment later, Vyddles snorted, his eyes opened wide and arms flailed widely before he and his chair went crashing backwards.  He quickly climbed to his feet and cast Pella a scornful look.  "Why did you do that?"

Pella chuckled and grinned furtively.  An eyebrow rose.  "Because you were snoring.  Loudly."

A look of disdain came to Vyddles.  "I wasn't sleeping."  He straightened his clothes and rubbed his lower back, which he was sure would be bruised.  "And I don't snore."

"Ha!  I heard you before I even entered the office."  She strolled to her own desk and sat.  "Have you been here all night long?"

Vyddles lifted his chair upright again, then sat in it.  "Of course.  The old man told me not to let the bartender out of my sight."

"Then should you not be in the cells with him?"

Vyddles shook his head.  "It's a figure of speech, Pella."

Her eyes twinkled.  He was so easy.

The door opened and Kedril Behrns strode into the office.  He cast a glance at Vyddles and shook his head.  "Sleeping, Vyddles?"

Vyddles visibly gulped.  "Not sleeping, Boss.  Was resting my eyes."

"Uh huh."  Behrns wasn't convinced.  He sat at his desk and turned his attention to Pella.  "What did you find out at our prisoner's house?"

"His wife claims his innocence.  I would not be surprised if she comes here today."

Behrns pursed his lips.  "And do you believe her?"

"Yes, but,"  she furrowed her brow.

"But what?"

Pella stood up and carried a leather pouch off her desk and deposited onto Behrns' desk.  "But I found this hidden in a woodpile."

Behrn's opened the pouch and peered inside.  A low whistle escaped him.

"What is it?"  From his chair, Vyddles strained his neck to see into the pouch.

Behrns took the pouch and turned it over, spilling many gold coins onto the desktop.  "Seems we've found our motive."

"Robbery!  I knew it, Boss.  Greed will make a man do almost anything."  Vyddles puffed out his chest, satisfied with his deductive abilities.

"What would you not do, Marlon?"  Pella cast him a squinty glare.

[Drea]

Date: 30th Singing Bird, 3rd Hour of Daybreak (9 AM)

Ferlin greedily slurped at the runny porridge that was his breakfast.  As he did, his eyes occasionally looked up to see the older constable sitting on a stool, back against the far wall of the cell.  When he was finished, he set down the bowl and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Behrns cocked his head to the side.  "Do you feel better?"

Humbly, Ferlin nodded.  He hadn't slept much, but at least he now had a full belly.

"Good.  Now, Ferlin, you don't appear to be the type of man who belongs in here.  So, why don't you do yourself a favour and tell me everything."

Ferlin hesitated.  He could already feel that hangman's noose tightening around his neck.

Behrns scowled and dumped the contents of the leather bag onto the floor.  "Start with this."

Ferlin's eyes widened.  Was this how a rat felt when caught by a cat?  "I- I took the money, but the man was already dead.  He wasn't gonna be needing it anymore."

That was the first step, Behrns thought to himself, satisfied.  He believed the man.  "But whoever did kill that man probably expected to come back for that money.  What do you think will happen when they discover it gone?  Did you stop to think that if they killed once for it, that killing again to get it won't be that much of a problem for them.  And keeping it at your house will only lead them there.  Consider that for a moment."

A look of surprise swept over Ferlin's face.  He hadn't considered that possibility; that his wife and children were now in danger.  It was one thing to place himself in danger, but something altogether different to involve them.  "You don't think-."

"Yes!  Yes, I do.  Now start talking, Ferlin, so we can find who did this."

Ferlin ran his fingers through his hair.  "I don't know who she is.  She didn't give a name."

"What did she look like?"

Ferlin shook his head.  "I don't know.  She wore a hood and a cloak.  I couldn't see her face."

"Dammit, Ferlin!  Give me something!  Work with me.  I'm trying to save your life.  I'm trying to save your family's life."

Ferlin ran a hand over his face.  Then he looked up.  "Her voice.  She spoke with an accent.  I don't think Tharian is her native language."

Behrns nodded.  Finally.  This was something he could work with.  "What else?  Tall, short, heavy, thin-".

"Tall," Ferlin interrupted.  "Must be close to two peds, if not a little taller."

Now things were beginning to move.  Behrns listened intently as Ferlin began putting together a partial sketch of the foreign women.  They finally had something to go on.

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