The hills of Pondge.
Evening of the 16th of Kusha, the month of Harvest.
2290 Years since the New gods came.
Maxwell and Brianna sat at the small kitchen table, lit by a single small candle, and stared into each other’s eyes. Finally Max broke eye contact, “Did you find out anything interesting? I didn’t.”
“I learned how the two got together, and that the last disappearance happened around five years ago.” Bri answered. “Also, Betty makes an amazing cup of tea.”
“That’s good to know.” Max chuckled, “Maybe I will avail myself of some tomorrow.”
“Do you have any clue where the boy has run off to? I haven’t seen him since dinner.” Bri asked, then yawned.
“If I know him, then he’s trying to pick the Dragon Chest.” Max answered, then yawned himself. “Good luck with that.”
“To bed with us, husband. I’m heading to town in the morning to look through the town records.” Bri said as she stood from the table.
“Yes, my dear.”
17th of Kusha
The sun was coloring the sky of the early morning as Grendel threw up his hands in despair and kicked the chest. He had tried dumping normal water in the lock, then salt water, then sand mixed with salt water, then everything else he could think of. Finally, he had cleaned the lock with salt water again. He kicked the chest again.
“Stupid thing. You should have popped the first time I hit your pins with my picks.” He threw up his arms and sat down on the chest.
CLICK
-
Max, Bri, and the constables were enjoying a country breakfast when the screaming started outside. Food was variously placed or dropped, as the entire group ran for the door.
From the front lawn, the group stood and stared as Grendel threw coins and other things in the air and started laughing manically.
Bri looked at Max and smiled. “Make sure he cleans it all up while I’m in town, dear husband.” She winked, and walked away.
“Son of a…Grendel! Stop that!” Max yelled at the young man.
-
The officers, Max and a thoroughly chastised Grendel stood at the top of the ladder, and stared down into the abyss. “Any clue when the reinforcements will be here?” Grendel asked.
“Not for several more hours, son” Sgt. Smith replied.
“Should we go down and explore?” Grendel asked, a bit of excitement in his voice.
“No, son. We already have an overabundance of vomit on the crime scene already.” Sgt. Smith replied.
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“Then why are we standing here staring at a ladder in a hole?” Grendel asked, mild confusion flitting across his face.
“…Good question lad.” Sgt. Smith stood up strait. “All right you lot! Let’s have a look see around the area! If anything piques your interest, have a poke at it.” He took a breath, “Constables Went and Griegs! Put the coins from the chest back, and don’t go pinching things like the cloths line.”
Two of the constables, one more than a little overweight and balding from age, the other short and thin with a…skin condition, sighed and put back the coins they had gathered earlier. The thin one looked at the other, “Them was just lying around. No bother to just pick them up. Most of them got into the chest. Just a little bit for the widows and orphan’s fund.”
“I know Griegs, I know.” Constable Went replied. “Maybe we should find a place to watch from, guard the area, see? Good place to have a smoke, out of the wind.” The pair wandered off, looking to find a place to have a smoke that was out of the wind, and any possible rain.
Grendel looked up at Sgt Smith, “Why do you keep those two around?”
“Because they are about as folksy as folks get.” Smith answered shaking his head, “All departments have constables like them. They are in touch with the people, and people talk to them.”
“But their cops!” Grendel said.
“No, they’re not.” Smith said. “Their Tom and Rob. You buy them a pint at the bar, and tell them your woes. Or who hit who. Or who robbed old Mrs. Ogliev.”
“…but…” Grendel started and stopped.
“It’s not like your talking to the cops.” Smith said with a smile. “You’re just talking to old Tom and his young, has a condition friend, Rob.”
Grendel stopped and thought on that for a while.
-
As lunch passed and reports rolled in from the searchers; with nothing more interesting than a rams skull found; the group waited for the reinforcements to arrive in the evening. Thus, they were surprised by a group of seven constables and a cleric of Narissa, the goddess of Tranquility, showing up. Short of breath and glancing offer their shoulders at a not very amused pixie with what could only be described as a riding crop in hand.
“Alright you lot, you can rest now.” Brandywine announced to the group she had been “sheparding”. “Lord Maxwell! I have delivered the reinforcements as you have requested!” She gave Max a salute, which he returned with military precision.
“Gentlemen, and lady cleric, welcome to your new temporary posting!” Max announced to the haggard group. “First, take a load off and eat something while you rest. Second, in an hour Sgt Smith and I will brief you on the current situation that we are facing.” He took a deep breath for the last announcement, “Last, lady cleric, I would like to know why you were selected for this job, as opposed to the Sea cleric?”
“Bec---” gasp, “Because the Sea cleric Andromeda,” gasp, “was busy with funeral rights.” The lady cleric replied.
“A perfectly reasonable reason.” Max grumped in response. “Dismissed. We will see you in an hour.” The new group sat down, and ate the food provided by the others.
Max walked several dozen yards away, while waiving Brandy over. “What in the hells were you doing, driving them like cattle?”
Brandy frowned, “They were standing around grumbling and talking about taking a carriage to get here. It would have taken until tomorrow to do that. So, I decided to thwack a few backsides and scare the heck out of them.” Then she smiled, “It worked very well.”
“Now we have a disgruntled, tired, and bitter group of people that we will have to convince to help us.” Max grumbled back.
“I did give them some energy to survive the trip; I’m not that cruel.” Brandy replied, “Usually.”
An unremarkable hour passed, and Max was standing in front of the combined group of constables and others. “Alright, cutting to the chase; we have dozens of bodies down below us that need to be reassembled… You know what?” He waved his hand and stone benches raised from the earth, “Sit.”
After the shock lifted from the assembled people, they sat.
“As I was saying,” Max continued, “We have bodies that need to be assembled,” he pointed to the medics, “carried up from the torture chamber,’ he waiver towards the constables, “identified, and interred.” He pointed to the cleric. “Any questions thus far?”
The cleric raised her hand, and Max nodded at her, “Lady Chelsa, priestess of Narissa, Goddess of Tranquility.” She introduced herself. “How do you expect me to identify the victims?”
“I would ask your goddess for help in that.” Max replied.
“Or you could look over this list of disappearances from the last 100 years and see what pops up from the descriptions.” Bri said from behind Max.
For his part, Max’s eyes went wide, and he spun around. “How long have you been here, my dearest?’
“Only long enough to hear what you wanted the priestess, second class, to do.” Bri answered.
Max turned back to the cleric, “Second class huh? Damn. Guess we lucked out with you.”
Chelsa smiled at Bri, “Lady Brianna, your list will be most helpful to me.”
And the party set to work.