Return to Tale Telling 
This thread was started by Moa Dragon on the 10th of May 2000, and subsequently continued by Irondune, Abyssal, and Pariah. The latest post was on the 12th of May.
Night.
Darkness.
Three Gunshots.
A Dragon found dead covered in blood.
A mark : "NJ".
No witness.
This crime must be punished.
A man in a beige trenchcoat and a brown fedora walks up to the body. The monogrammed initials on his pocket read "ID". Noting the body, he sighs, calls the police, and waits for the rest of the gang to arrive.
A innocent bystander, on the tall side, walks briskly over to the scene of the crime. "Officer," he beseeches, "what happened here? I could've sworn I heard gunshots..." he trails off in midsentence, noticing the body. "Oh." Fighting the urge that his stomach is placing on him, he turns around and supports himself on his knees. "Oh dear..."
"ID" approaches the innocent bystander. His attention has just been startled.
"Gunshots, you say?"
The Tall Man pulls "ID" aside, under a streetlamp a little ways away from where the body is positioned.
"Aye, a rare thing on *this* world, I haven't seen anything like this in a while... at least not a century or so. But times have changed..."
Nodding, and a bit befuddled by what the Tall Man has just told him,
"ID" wanders back over to the scene of the crime.
He examines the body more closely. Yes, he was not killed by an usual weapon. He knew about gunpowder, and that some people use muskets in Britannia. He turns back.... and sees that the rest of the team is there.
Noting that the so called "professionals" have arrived, the Tall Man grunts audibly. "Great..." he mutters. So as not to interfere with their "investigation", the Tall Man makes an agile leap onto a second story balcony -- and waits in utter silence.
As "ID" inspects his team, a dark-cloaked figure, visibly inebriated, staggers towards the gathering crowd.
"Hey! What's goin' on over here? Some kinda - oh." His voice is cut off, not by the dirty looks of those who understand the tragedy, but by the site of the bloodstained corpse.
"Is... isse... um..." The question can't leave his mouth, but he knows the truth before anyone can answer him.
A stagger backwards. A horrified expression. A quick mutter.
"This place is getting fricking nuts... back in the day... sure you got mad at people, got all heated up, but we never KILLED anyone! Goddamnitall... okay, that's it, I'm outta here!" Before he is even finished speaking, the figure has pulled a darkly glinting jewel from beneath his cloak. It glints maddeningly in the light. He spins it once, and is gone. Only a cold blast of air signifies that the Pariah was ever even there.
Startled and rather annoyed by the Tall Man's hints and the Pariah's disappearance, the man with "ID" monogrammed into his coat takes off his hat, revealing the thick but grey hair underneath. A face lined with wrinkles caused prematurely by the sight of so many murders. He turns to the assembled crew.
"Right. We've got a murder here." he says.
Judging by the sick looks on many faces, it is obvious that many already are aware of that fact.
"Look." he says to the ragtag Britannian bunch, all the while cursing towns living too far underneath the curtain of peace. "I need the entire area investigated. Footprints, shrapnel, witnesses, anything."
"You!" he says, pulling over a man who had began to run in the direction of a back alley. "Any reports of Fellowship influence out here?"
"That's been outlawed for, oh, Lord British knows how many years, sir."
"Doesn't mean there aren't any left. Find out for me. This doesn't look like their style, but you never can tell."
"Hey!" he calls out to the nearest officer. "You know where the sheriff's office is? Find the man and bring him here."
"And you!" he cries at a nearby loitering guard. "Get me the strongest ale they have on tap at the nearest tavern. It's gonna be a long day.
To the Top. Return to Tale Telling