Isle of Golstran
52nd of Kusha, the month of Harvest.
2290 Years since the New gods came.
From the journal of Aaron Fish
It has taken almost all of the day of heavy footwork, but I finally have a lead on “Jockey Jim”. His full name is James Mallory, and he was a mainlander until his family moved to the island around ten years ago. His parents moved back to the mainland five years ago, but he opted to stay and enjoy the life of a jockey for hire. In the last five years he has earned the respect of most of the professional riders in and around the capital city of Golstran.
According to several of my interviews, two months ago he broke his leg on a patch of ice and needed emergency treatment in order to keep from losing it. The treatment failed, and he had to have the leg amputated. Last month he started riding again with a prosthetic leg, and it has gone poorly. So poorly in fact that he has lost his home due to gambling and medical debts.
In the morning, I will be visiting Jim’s former home, as well as Mr. Johnson’s residence.
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From the Journal of Maxwell Smithson
There have been no attacks upon my person since Mr. Fish, and Brianna is happy about the lack of blood on my clothing.
Brandywine has been following Grendel around the last several days, which while not odd, is different from normal. I worry that they may be bad influences on each other.
Thinking about Mr. Fish, he seems to be going full steam on the murder investigation. I’m interested to find out his conclusions as to who killed who.
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Grendel looked over his shoulder again, trying to spot Brandy, but she was too quick for him now that she had taken the time to fully take his measure. Silly little brat, what are you hiding? Brandy thought, hiding in the shadow of a streetlight. She flitted from light to light following the young man as he made his way down the main street, then turned into an alley.
Not wanting to lose her target, Brandy flew up and over the low two-story building and caught sight of him about halfway down the alley, shuffling his feet as he walked. She alighted on the roof tiles of the building and watched him. After several minutes Grendel kicked a rock, and went back to his normal walking pace. What is wrong with you? You’re normally more energetic than this! Brandy screamed at the boy in her mind. Did…did you have your first crush? Did she turn you down when you asked her out? Worse yet, did she say yes, and now you don’t know what to do?
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Grendel kicked a rock in the alley and watched it bounce off of a broken crate next to someone’s door. Stupid letter. Stupid titles. Stupid gods sending people like “me” letters. Grendel raged. I’m Max’s assistant! It’s my job to lighten his load! Max didn’t need some great high muckety-muck god telling him to cut back on helping people! Who cares if this isn’t his first resurrection? You want him to know, then show your bony ass up and tell him to his face! Morons. He sighed, and sped up to his normal walking speed.