JK Detective Agency

<center> <h1>A Certain Set of Case Files</h1> <h3>By Morrgan Sweeney-Charlton</h3> (set: $progress to 0)(set: $currentPassage to "Title Page") [[New Game->Life in the Blessed City]] (if: (saved-games:) contains "Slot 1")[(link: "Load Game")[(load-game: "Slot 1")]] </center>

{(set: $currentPassage to "Life in the Blessed City")(after: 2s)[(save-game: "Slot 1")] <center><h2>Chapter 1</h2> <h3>Life in the Blessed City</h3></center> --- It was a clear day or, at least, as clear as the sky ever is around here, when I first laid eyes on the unkempt building that I would come to frequent so often. Hidden away in one of (text-colour:red)[[Wyhill's->Wyhill]] many alleys, this particular one just south of the river Fen, its bricked-up windows and unassuming door filled me with a mixture of nervousness and disgust. But, the address matched the (text-colour:red)[[ad->Joker's Advertisement]], and so I lifted the brass knocker and rapped three times upon the solid oak. After a brief pause, I heard the sound of wood clattering against wood, a muffled curse and, at long last, a harmonic response: "Enter!" With a trembling hand, I twisted the door knob and walked inside. (if: $progress is 0)[(click:"inside")[(set: $progress to 1)After my eyes adjusted to the artificial lighting, I took a quick glance around the room: a couple of wooden chairs angled to face a cluttered desk, a wilted plant set in the corner, and no sign of any other way in or out. Sitting at the desk was a man with brown hair that managed to be both short-trimmed and sticking up at odd angles. His left elbow was planted on the surface in front of him, the hand cradling his chin as he stared my way. An eyepatch covered his left eye, leaving only the piercing jade of his right. I cleared my throat to speak, but before I could utter so much as a hello, the man cut me off. "Sorry," he said with a flat tone, "But I'm looking for someone less... green." After coming all that way, I wasn't about to be denied so casually. So I responded...(show: ?choices)]](else:)[After my eyes adjusted to the artificial lighting, I took a quick glance around the room: a couple of wooden chairs angled to face a cluttered desk, a wilted plant set in the corner, and no sign of any other way in or out. Sitting at the desk was a man with brown hair that managed to be both short-trimmed and sticking up at odd angles. His left elbow was planted on the surface in front of him, the hand craddling his chin as he stared my way. An eyepatch covered his right eye, leaving only the piercing jade of his left. I cleared my throat to speak, but before I could utter so much as a hello, the man cut me off. "Sorry," he said with a flat tone, "But I'm looking for someone less... green." After coming all that way, I wasn't about to be denied so casually. So, I responded...] (if: $progress > 0 and < 2)|choices>[Indignantly Sarcastically] (click:"Indignantly")[(set: $progress to 2)(set: $response to "indignant")(replace: ?choices)["Hey, I'm not just some kid! The least you could do is grant me an interview!"The man smirked at me and tilted his head to the side, showing off a pointed ear. "You're human, so you'll always be a kid to someone like me," he gloated, "But, I guess my ad didn't specify experience as a requirement." He leaned back in his chair, gestured for me to take a seat, then crossed his arms.(show: ?Interview)]] (click:"Sarcastically")[(set: $progress to 2)(set: $response to "sarcastic")(replace: ?choices)["You must be some detective if you're able to conduct an interview just by the color of my clothing."He blinked then, after a moment of silence, burst out laughing. "Okay, that one wins you a seat at the table," he said, gesturing toward one of the chairs, "Humor's a must in this line of work."(show: ?Interview)]](if: $response is "indignant")["Hey, I'm not just some kid! The least you could do is grant me an interview!"The man smirked at me and tilted his head to the side, showing off a pointed ear. "You're human, so you'll always be a kid to someone like me," he gloated, "But, I guess my ad didn't specify experience as a requirement." He leaned back in his chair, gestured for me to take a seat, then crossed his arms.](else-if: $response is "sarcastic")["You must be some detective if you're able to conduct an interview just by the color of my clothing."He blinked then, after a moment of silence, burst out laughing. "Okay, that one wins you a seat at the table," he said, gesturing toward one of the chairs, "Humor's a must in this line of work."](if: $progress >= 2)|Interview>[(show: ?Analysis)"Is it that obvious that I'm new around here?" I asked, taking a seat."To me? Yes," he replied, "Your boots are clean, and you're wearing an archer's wrist guard both of which tell me you're from an upper-class background. The fact that your guard is scuffed suggests you practice regularly, but aren't yet good enough to avoid hitting your wrist. Furthermore, you don't have your bow on you, meaning that you're naive enough to think of Wyhill as a safe part of town." He tapped his eyepatch. "One eye is enough to look, but a good brain is what you need to 'see'."I considered his analysis and at last replied, "Dead on. Except for one thing." He raised his eyebrow. "I was raised at the orphanage in (text-colour:red)[[Key's Ward]]."He nodded, smiling as though that additional information somehow explained everything, then extended his right hand. "I suppose proper introductions are in order. (text-colour:red)[[Joseph Kurr]]," he said.I took his hand and shook it, and said, "(text-colour:red)[[Marielle d'Paradise]]." Kurr's grip was firm, but awkward in a way that I could not immediately place. With introductions complete, he cleared his throat, took out a pad of paper and a fountain pen, and began questioning me."So, Ms. d'Paradise, why are you here?"I decided that an honest answer would suit me best under the circumstances. "I should think it's clear that the money is the primary reason; one (text-colour:red)[[Key->Money]] is nearly a fifty percent increase on the daily wages for the City Watch," as I spoke, Kurr's pen danced across the paper, "But, I'd be lying if I claimed money was the only reason. I want to make this city a better place than it is.""Why not join the Watch, then?" he replied, "As you said, their wages are comparable to what I'm paying, and it's quite literally their job to clean up filth."I shook my head. "I'm not so idealistic as to believe that, sir," I continued, "The Watch's job is to keep order, to be the proverbial stick that keeps muggers from plying their trade in broad daylight. But you, Mr. Kurr, are a detective. People like you are the ones that make sure the criminals who escape initially are one day brought to justice. I don't want to be a mere cudgel for the government; I want to be a lantern that shines truth in the darkness of lies." From his hand motions, I could tell that he either crossed out or underlined something in response to that statement."I see... Now then, why don't we move on to a more practical question?" He set the pen and paper down and focused his gaze on me. "I'd like you to look me over and tell me your observations. Anything will do. It can be as superficial or deep as you'd like."My pulse quickened. Despite his insistence that this could be a superficial analysis of him, I could tell that this was //the// question, the one that would determine in his mind whether I was suited to be his assistant or not. So I looked him over again, taking in everything I could to use in my analysis: short-trimmed hair that sticks up in places, a missing left eye, pointed ears that marked elven heritage. //Deeper,// I thought, //What else?// His arms were elongated, delineating that he was a true (text-colour:red)[[elf->Elves]] rather than a hybrid. His shirt was a button-down item unsuited to the weather, wrinkled all over and stained at the collar and cuffs. A pair of suspenders hung across his shoulders, connecting to a lower garment which I could not see from that side of the desk. //Think! What does he want me to see!?// His face was smooth, with a well-defined chin, his expression blank. //Wait... something about his left eye?// I took a deep breath, then decided to...] (if: $progress > 1 and < 3)|Analysis>[Bluff Be Honest] (click:"Bluff")[(set: $progress to 3)(set: $response2 to "evasive")(replace: ?Analysis)[...make something up. "Your eye... you didn't really lose it, did you?" I began, "I can't see all of it, but there are no scars around it, so I imagine you just wear that patch to keep one of your eyes prepped for night-time use."Kurr stroked his chin, picked the paper back up and scribbled down some more notes. Once finished, he spoke again. "I'll give you points for picking up on my eye, even though the analysis is wrong." With a practiced hand, he flipped the eyepatch up and revealed the empty socket beneath, long since healed over. "Suffice to say, I didn't lose it in a //violent// manner."(show: ?Interruption)]] (click:"Be Honest")[(set: $progress to 3)(set: $response2 to "honest")(replace: ?Analysis)[...explain what little I could. "The only thing that sticks out to me is your eye," I admitted, "Something about it bothers me, but I just can't put my finger on what. And no, I don't mean the fact that you're covering it with an eyepatch."Kerr nodded, then retrieved his pad of paper. "Don't take it too seriously, kid," he replied, "I wasn't expecting answer on par with my analysis of you. That said, you're correct that there's something off about my missing eye, but it's not readily visible."(show: ?Interruption)]](if: $response2 is "evasive")[...make something up. "Your eye... you didn't really lose it, did you?" I began, "I can't see all of it, but there are no scars around it, so I imagine you just wear that patch to keep one of your eyes prepped for night-time use."Kurr stroked his chin, picked the paper back up and scribbled down some more notes. Once finished, he spoke again. "I'll give you points for picking up on my eye, even though the analysis is wrong." With a practiced hand, he flipped the eyepatch up and revealed the empty socket beneath, long since healed over. "Suffice to say, I didn't lose it in a //violent// manner."](else-if: $response2 is "honest")[...explain what little I could. "The only thing that sticks out to me is your eye," I admitted, "Something about it bothers me, but I just can't put my finger on what. And no, I don't mean the fact that you're covering it with an eyepatch."Kerr nodded, then retrieved his pad of paper. "Don't take it too seriously, kid," he replied, "I wasn't expecting answer on par with my analysis of you. That said, you're correct that there's something off about my missing eye, but it's not readily visible."] (if: $progress >= 3)|Interruption>[Kurr closed his good eye and tapped his pen against the desk. After an eternity of silence that lasted a mere ten seconds in reality, he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by his door swinging open with a loud bang. I turned around to see a young (text-colour:red)[[dwarven->Dwarves]] boy in the door frame, out of breath and holding an envelope. "Message for mister Kurr," he wheezed, "Special delivery." The elf stood up and strode over to the boy, handed him a pair of (text-colour:red)[[Gravels->Money]] in exchange for the envelope, then broke the seal and began to read. He leaned against the wall, so that I could see his expression, and what an expression it was: the corner of his mouth curled into a grin that to this day I can only think of as indicating malicious glee. Then he tossed the boy an extra Gravel for a tip and came back over to the desk."Come, Marielle," he said, a curious joy in his voice, "Seems the gods have given you a stroke of luck this day: there's been a crime that will serve as an excellent final test of your abilities." From beneath his desk, he retrieved a beat-up notebook and a bundled-up coat. "Come, come! We've not a moment to lose." And so it was that Joseph Kurr practically dragged me from his office, stopping only to lock it behind him, and hailed a carriage to bring us to the [[tram station->The First Crime Scene]].]}

<h3>WANTED:</h3> An assistant to organize files at a small detective agency. NOT menial labor; intelligence a prerequisite. 1 Key/day wage. Inquire in person at 919 Fen Way, Wyhill. [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{A middle-class district, Wyhill is situated on the southwest side of the city, between Fortune's Market and the District Arcane. Modest townhouses, specialty shops and access to the River Fen are its main draw points. With one of the two main forts of the City Watch, it's also among the safest districts to wander. Residents primarily consist of humans, with some elven and dwarvish residents. Most of Wyhill's residents are shopkeepers, small-time merchants, or mid-level members of the Watch.} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

Name: Marielle Family Name: d'Paradise (could be an alias?) Sex: Female Age: 18 Species: Human Skin: Light with freckles Hair Color: Platinum Blonde Eye Color: Brown (looks yellow in certain light) Height: 5'7" Weight: 113lbs Occupation: None Address: 17 Sun Road, Key's Ward, Blessed City Notes: Raised in an orphanage located in Key's Ward. Has idealistic tendencies, but a surprisingly cynical sense of whit. Capable archer, but needs to work on close range shooting or else learn some style of melee combat. Overall opinion: needs polish, but could be a capable assistant. ~J. Kurr [[Return->$currentPassage]]

Name: Joseph Family Name: Kurr Sex: Male Age: 83 Species: Elf Skin: Light shade of brown Hair Color: Brunette Eye Color: Green Height: 6'2 Weight: 109lbs Occupation: Detective Address: (text-colour:white)+(bg:white)[_____________________] Notes: As if my own file would contain anything more than my physical description. Can't risk it falling into the wrong hands, after all. Though, it certainly would suck if I lost my memories somehow; I should hide a real one of these somewhere... ~J. Kurr [[Return->$currentPassage]]

There are five units of currency in the Blessed City, commonly referred to by the markings on them (though, the official names differ). In order from least to most valuable, they are: * Daggers - copper coins bearing the emblem of The Bladelord. * Gravels - bronze coins bearing the emblem of The Landfather; one Gravel is worth five Daggers. * Quills - silver coins bearing the emblem of The Scribe; one Quill is worth five Gravels. * Keys - gold coins bearing the emblem of The Key; one Key is worth five Quills. * Sickles - platinum coins bearing the emblem of The Grim Thane; one Sickle is worth five Keys. A single Quill is generally enough for a meal at an average restaurant, whereas three Daggers could buy a small keg of dirt-cheap ale. [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{(set: $currentPassage to "The First Crime Scene")(after: 2s)[(save-game: "Slot 1")]Fifteen minutes and a packed tram car ride later, I found myself in the suffocating smog of (text-colour:red)[[Mechana]]. The afternoon sun was nowhere to be found, its rays blocked by the exhaust from the district's eternal engines, and so I stuck close to Mr. Kurr as he led me down the cobbled streets and alleys in the gaslit false night. With a word to the guard at the door, his path took us inside an ironworks, past a dozen laborers hammering a deafening rhythm in the sweltering furnace of the factory floor, and up to the roof where a troop of City Watch had gathered. The leader of these soldiers, a (text-colour:red)[[beastkin->Beastkin]] woman clad in the crimson uniform of a lieutenant, stepped away from the group and strode toward us, her fluffy tail swinging back and forth. "Detective Kurr," she said with a high-pitched voice, "I see 'ya got my message. And an assistant, I take it?" The officer looked my way and flashed her canine teeth. "I've incorporated this assignment into her job interview," Kurr replied, "Your message could not have been better timed, (text-colour:red)[[Ms. Coldbrawler->Zenaida Coldbrawler]]." Seeing the opportunity to introduce myself, I... (if: $progress > 2 and < 4)|Introduction>[Offered my hand Gave a curt nod] (click: "Offered my hand")[(set: $progress to 4)(set: $response3 to "bold")(show: ?TheCorpse)(replace: ?Introduction)[...took a step forward and offered her my hand. "Marielle," I said, "Pleased to meet you, mam." The officer responded with a grasp reminiscent of a hound's bite, her claws digging into my hand and not retracting for a full five seconds. I managed to keep the pain from showing on my face, but wasn't able to prevent my hand from relaxing in her grip."Hope 'ya make the cut," she replied with a chuckle, "Now, why don't you two take a look at the body?"]] (click: "Gave a curt nod")[(set: $progress to 4)(set: $response3 to "polite")(show: ?TheCorpse)(replace: ?Introduction)[...gave her a polite nod. "I'm Marielle," I said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Officer Coldbrawler." Her nostrils flared as she continued to stare in my direction."Best stick with Joe, little girl," she sneered, "With a scent like that, the bad parts of town will eat 'ya alive." Without further discussion, the lieutenant beckoned us toward the scene of the crime.]](if: $response3 is "bold")[...took a step forward and offered her my hand. "Marielle," I said, "Pleased to meet you, mam." The officer responded with a grasp reminiscent of a hound's bite, her claws digging into my hand and not retracting for a full five seconds. I managed to keep the pain from showing on my face, but wasn't able to prevent my hand from relaxing in her grip."Hope 'ya make the cut," she replied with a chuckle, "Now, why don't you two take a look at the body?"](else-if: $response3 is "polite")[...gave her a polite nod. "I'm Marielle," I said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Officer Coldbrawler." Her nostrils flared as she continued to stare in my direction."Best stick with Joe, little girl," she sneered, "With a scent like that, the bad parts of town will eat 'ya alive." Without further discussion, the lieutenant beckoned us toward the scene of the crime.] (if: $progress >= 4)|TheCorpse>[The City Watch parted to let us through, giving me my first glance at the face of death. Sprawled face up on the roof, next to a stone chimney, was the body of an elven man. His chest was torn open, the organs missing. The empty sockets of his eyes stared upward, never again to comprehend the bleakness of the sky. I gagged and looked away. Kurr knelt down next to the victim. "This does look like another Crow Killing," he said, "When was he discovered?" "Late this morning, just after the ironworks below opened up," Ms. Coldbrawler explained, "Roof patrol team spotted it before the night shift ended." "And called you?" Kurr asked, "Mechana's a bit out of your jurisdiction, Zenaida." The officer smirked and replied, "You're not the only one who wants the Crow behind bars, detective. Can't think of many other criminals that high on the wanted list." "Excuse me, Crow Killing?" I interrupted, my stomach having settled at last. Kurr pulled out his (text-colour:red)[[notebook->Crow Killing Victims]] and flipped open to a dog-eared page with a list of names before handing it up to me. I scanned the section while he continued to speak. "It's been kept out of the papers for the most part. Now then..." He stood up and turned to face Zenaida, "Has the victim been identified yet?" She shook her head. "Very well, then. I should like to speak with the ones that found the body."] (click: "speak ")[At the lieutenant's behest, two watchmen stepped forward from the group and saluted her, then stood at attention. I gave them a quick once over to see if anything stood out, but aside from the half-lidded gazes, nothing stood out about either of them; their uniforms did their job well in that regard. "Patrolmen Jacobs and Henderson," Ms. Coldbrawler introduced them. Kurr patted the men on their shoulders as though they were close friends of his and said, "Don't worry lads, you'll get to go home as soon as I've got your account of things. I take it you are partners?" "Yessir," Jacobs, the shorter of the two if only by an inch, replied. "And is this roof a part of your regular patrol?" "Tha's right," Henderson said, "Been a few late-night break-ins 'round 'ere, an' we're s'posed to keep an eye out for the thief." "I see... Marielle?" the detective put his hand out toward me, "May I please have my notebook back?" Without a word, I handed it to him and he flipped to a blank page. "I see that there are some bridges connecting the rooftops. How often would you say that your route takes you to this roof specifically?" The pair conversed with one another for a few moments, discussing their patrol speed and the length of their route before settling on an answer. "I'd say about once an hour," Jacobs said, "Give or take." "And your shift is six hours, yes?" While Kurr continued with his questioning, I began to examine the victim myself. Between my unsettled stomach, not being allowed to touch anything, and lack of medical training, I doubted I'd find anything new. It struck me that the scene wasn't as... bloody as I had initially thought. The area around the victim was clean, including the tattered remains of his clothes; or, at least, what I could view of the back of his shirt. I found my gaze drifting to his empty eye sockets, and from there, to a trickle of dried blood on the side of his head. "I think I'm about ready to wrap this up," Kurr announced, "The evidence seems to point toward this being the latest Crow Killing, so I'd like to get home and add it to the file." At that point, I stood back up, a frown on my face. (if: $response3 is "polite")[Something about the crime scene bothered me, but I didn't have the confidence to speak up about it. (if: $response2 is "evasive")[Especially not after trying to lie my way through the interview only an hour prior. ](else:)[Not after having failed to pick up on whatever detail Kurr expected me to spot in his interview. ] However, my body language made the message clear. "Something amiss?" the detective asked, his tone flat. Seeing no way out of it, I voiced my thoughts.](else:)[I thought the detective might be rushing to his conclusion, though I couldn't say exactly why I believed that. Still, I cleared my throat to get his attention. "Yes?" he acknowledged, "You have a thought to add?"] "I'm not sure I agree with your conclusion, Mr. Kurr," I explained(if: $response3 is "polite")[, unable to hide the shakiness in my voice], "There's a couple facts that don't seem to fit(if: $response2 is "honest")[, though I'm not certain what that might mean]." "So, you are saying that I am //wrong//?" he asked, "That this is //not// a Crow Killing?" I nodded. "Based on ten minutes of reading my notes and a cursory examination of the crime scene?" With each word, I felt my stomach going into tighter and tighter knots, yet I still nodded. Kurr removed a scrap of paper from his notebook and passed it to Lieutenant Coldbrawler, then steepled his fingers and stared at me. "Go on, then. Let's hear your theory." I took a deep breath, then began to explain my reasoning. "The victim appears to have a head wound," I said, indicating the trickle of blood on his forehead, "I admit, I don't have any medical training, but it's contradictory to your notes. Prior victims of the Crow had no visible wounds on their bodies, and died due to blood loss." Kurr raised an eyebrow, as if asking me whether or not that trivial explanation was all I had. "Furthermore, the victim doesn't fit the established pattern of other victims." "What pattern?" Zenaida interjected with a laugh, "The only thing the Crow's victims have in common is that(if: $response3 is "bold")[-""Is that they have nothing in common with one another," I cut her off, "The previous victims are all different species. Of those that are the same species, they are of a different sex. Ergo, if this //is// a Crow Killing, then the victim would be the first true repeat in the pattern."](else:)[ they have nothing in common!""That's precisely my point, Officer Coldbrawler," I continued, "All of the Crow's previous victims are a different species from one another, or a different sex in the few cases where they are the same species. If this is a Crow Killing, then it would be the first in which the victim is the same species and sex as a previous one."] The gray air was tense as the lieutenant stared me down, only for our short debate to be cut short by a soft chuckled from Kurr. "I'm honestly impressed," he said, "I didn't think anyone else would notice. Ms. Coldbrawler, why don't you take a look at that paper I handed you?" With an irritated frown, she unfolded the page and scanned its contents. Her eyes widened, and she turned to her subordinates. "You four, detain Jacobs and Henderson!" she barked, "You two, go search their patrol route for anything out of place!" Kurr smirked and strode over to me while the Watch sprang into action. "Our part in this play is done, Marielle," he said, "Shall we depart the stage?" Without waiting for my reply, he began to make his way back down to the ironworks. Confused, [[I followed him.->Wrapping Up the First Case]]]}

{The longest lived of the Blessed City's many species, elves typically live to the age of two-hundred and fifty. They are physically characterized by having pointed ears and limbs that are disproportionately long compared to their bodies, resulting in a comparatively tall stature while maintaining a low weight. Elven hair, eye, and skin colors range all the standard shades found in humanity. Their unusual longevity is one of the reasons that laws regarding age of majority are written to take into account the different rates at which humanoid species age. Notably, elves reach physical maturity around forty years of age, but are considered to be legally adults at twenty-five due to their minds maturing at the same rate as a human (as opposed to humans being considered legal adults at the age of eighteen, while reaching physical maturity as many as four years prior to that). Elves are known to interbreed with humans on occasion, producing offspring that are somewhere between the parent and child's characteristics. Such children have pointed ears but do not have the stature of an elf, and their lives often extend into their mid hundreds. However, these half-human half-elf children are sterile in almost all cases.} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{Second only to the elves in potential longevity, dwarves live to be one-hundred and twenty years on average. They are marked by their short stature, rarely exceeding three feet in height at adulthood. However, they are often observed to make up in width what they lack in height, having an aerial profile that is typically two and a half feet in diameter with arms retracted (compared to the slightly more than one foot profile of a human). Notably, the dwarven body stores little in the way of fat; their small forms are almost entirely muscle. Though dwarves tend to have the same range of skin and eye colors as a human, these are a few shades darker on average. Male dwarves tend to go bald early on in life, though they maintain the ability to grow facial hair. In contrast, female dwarves have no apparent limit to the length their hair can reach (the world record is, as of this time, thirty-one feet), but grow no facial hair whatsoever. Dwarves can have children with other humanoid species, despite popular belief holding this to not be true, but this is unusual (whether because of societal norms or genetic incompatibilities can only be speculated upon). Children who have a single dwarven parent typically exhibit that parent's musculature, while otherwise having the stature of their non-dwarven parent. Some scholars believe that the Giant Kings of dwarven legend are actually half-dwarves; though, the last person to bring that up at a historical debate was chased from the floor by his more conservative peers.} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{One of the five 'temple districts', Key's Ward is home to (and named after) the Church of the Golden Key. It is situated on the eastern side of the city, with the Scribe's Ward and the Holy Ward of the Grim Thane to its north and west. In addition to the church itself, affiliated organizations such as orphanages, soup kitchens, and healer's workshops tend to draw visitors from the poorer districts. The majority of residents are members or parishioners of the Church of the Golden Key, which draws in people of all backgrounds. Consequently, a visitor is as likely to see a human as they are a beastkin here. However, most of those that actually //live// in Key's Ward are well-off.} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{Once a vast farmland, Mechana is now a wasteland of metal and smoke on the northern end of the city. Though surrounded by the wealth of Districta Arcana, Scribe's Ward, the Holy Ward of the Grim Thane and Elvana, it's like a black spot on the map. Its streets are the narrowest in the city on average, some not even two feet across, and perpetually shrouded in an acrid fog from the factories that run from dawn to midnight. The introduction of gas streetlamps to the district does little to cut through the eternal night. The only ones that live in the wretched factory lodgings are those that can't afford the tram fare to commute from anywhere else; even the Fool's Slum is considered a better living. The workers are as diverse as they come, but universally poor. "There's always a job in Mechana," so the saying goes, "but prison could be better for your health."} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{Beastkin is an umbrella term for a group of dozens of related species with similar characteristics. They have a humanoid body shape, walking upright on two legs, and most have a tail of some kind; that is where the shared characteristics end. The head of a beastkin generally resembles one of any number of common mammals, from domesticated dogs and cats to rabbits and field mice. This also extends to the rest of their bodies: the tail, feet, and fur match the common animal of their head (though, their hands are more human in shape, save for paw pads and claws as appropriate). Despite having such an alien appearance, they're closer to humans in longevity than any other species, living to be ninety years of age on average. Likewise, the height range of beastkin tends to follow that of humans, with variance for individual species affecting the extremes by about six inches. Their muscles are often more developed than humans, but not to the degree often seen in dwarves. It's unknown whether or not beastkin can procreate with other species, or even with other subspecies of beastkin. This is primarily due to a genetic quirk common to the species: beastkin often produce triplets or even quadruplets, but roughly two-thirds of all beastkin children are born sterile. The fertile ones face heavy societal pressure to maintain their family line, and so are unlikely to look for love outside their species.} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

Name: Zenaida Family Name: Coldbrawler Sex: Female Age: 27 Species: Beastkin (Canid) ~~Skin~~:Fur Almond brown with cream patches Hair Color: Dark brown Eye Color: Amber Height: 5'7" Weight: 169lbs Occupation: Lieutenant, City Watch Address: City Watch Barracks, Castle Cyne, Cyne Notes: Her animal characteristics are similar to those of a shepard's dog, complete with pointed ears and large tail. I doubt it's a coincidence that she's assigned to the Watch's fugitive apprehension department. While usually calm, she's prone to violent outbursts, particularly when it comes to certain elusive criminals; which is a problem when coupled with her unstable spellcasting abilities. The higher ups don't seem too concerned with this combination in her occupation. ~J. Kurr [[Return->$currentPassage]]

=|= Criminal Profile: The Crow * Modus Operandi - Victims found in secluded locations exposed to the open air, always with one or more internal organs removed; autopsy results suggest the victims were alive during this removal and died due to blood loss. Lack of blood at scene indicates victims are killed elsewhere, then dumped at the point of discovery. The body is usually subject to post-mortem damage from carrion eating birds, hence the unknown killer's title. * Frequency of Attacks: Once per month on average * Personality - Meticulous, calculating, cautious =|= Known Victims: * C. MacGrady - Human, F, 37; Found in vacant lot in Fool's Slum * A. Stonefist - Dwarf, M, 64; Found on deck of derelict ship in Earth's Ward * G. Ll'wyn - Elf, M, 82; Found in back alley between Mechana and Elvana * K. Steelhound - Beastkin (canid), F, 23; Found on a rooftop in Magician's Slum * A. Anderson - Human, M, 40; Found behind a shop in the Holy Ward * X. Deepwound - Beastkin (felid), F, 19; Found on an abandoned dock in Cyne Lake * J. Ssskalla - Lizardfolk, F, 20; Found at the mouth of the River Fen in Districta Arcana |==| [[Return->$currentPassage]]

{(set: $currentPassage to "Wrapping Up the First Case")(after: 2s)[(save-game: "Slot 1")]"Sit, sit!" detective Kurr insisted, stuffing his coat back under his desk. It was the first thing he said to me since we'd departed Mechana, and he said it with such an upbeat voice that my confusion only continued to grow. I planted myself in the chair and watched him dig through his drawers for something. "Ah, here we are!" He counted out five silver coins and placed them in front of me. It took me a moment to process the significance of his actions. "Wait... You're hiring me?" I asked. "Of course, Ms. d'Paradise," he confirmed, "You've exceeded my expectations." "I'm completely lost," I replied, "All I did was point out a couple of minor details. I thought you wanted me to solve the crime?" The elf frowned. "What kind of ridiculous expectation would that be?" he asked, "I'm looking for an assistant, not a partner. And you did precisely what a good assistant should do: you challenged my assumptions when they didn't fit the facts." (if: $response1 is "indignant")["You knew the whole time that the Crow wasn't responsible for that crime? And you didn't say anything to the lieutenant about it?" I shouted,](else:)["Are you saying you knew that the Crow wasn't responsible?" I replied,] "You had everything figured out from the beginning?" "Gods no, do you take me for (text-colour:red)[[The Scribe]]?" Kurr chuckled, "I didn't realize the crime was a ruse until I examined the body. It's as you said: the Crow's victims have never had any distinctive wounds, though that was hardly the only oddity present. His shirt was suspiciously clean, and a trained eye might have noticed that his organs were removed rather... roughly." I nodded along, following his train of thought. "And the note you handed to Ms. Coldbrawler?" "Had my findings on it, including that I suspected Jacobs and Henderson of the crime," he explained, "Roof patrolmen would ordinarily carry crossbows with them, but both were unarmed during my interrogation. I believe that looking into their finances will reveal that they've had a recent influx of wealth, facilitated by the victim, and that a thorough search of their patrol route will uncover their discarded and bloody weapons." "The burglaries?" "Precisely. The victim was, in all likelihood, the thief, and giving the guards a cut if they looked the other way. Mechana is a terrible place to rob without an inside man." "Still, a missing weapon and an unrelated crime spree isn't much to go on to reach that conclusion," I said, rubbing my temple, "There must have been something else..." As I glanced at the piles of paper on Kurr's desk, it hit me. "The Crow isn't in the news, so in order to try and pass off the crime as being part of that string of murders, the culprit must have been in the City Watch." "Or an otherwise similar position," he confirmed, smiling, "Certain politicians, a few detectives like myself, and patrolmen in the City Watch. The crime wasn't a perfect copy, so it implicated someone who knew the gist of the Crow's pattern, but not all of the minutiae." Kurr closed his good eye in what I presume was supposed to be a wink. "See? You've got the right mind set for the job." I took the stack of Quills from my new employer's desk and looked them over before pocketing them. "Well then, Mr. Kurr, I look forward to working with you," I said, offering my hand. And so it was that I started my life as the assistant of Joseph Kurr, perhaps the most persistent detective in all of the Blessed City's wards. Chapter 1 End}

{The Scribe (or, known by his proper title, The Scribe of the Akashic Record) is the god of knowledge, and one of the five deities from which the Blessed City of the Five gets its name. According to tradition, he is responsible for recording all events, past, present and future, on his obsidian tablet. He is married to The Golden Key, goddess of sunlight, but is also her opposite in that he is the god of moonlight. It is said that the two are able to meet only during solar eclipses, when the sun and moon cross in the sky. Given his domains, the Church of the Scribe is in charge of education in the Blessed City. In fact, the high priest of The Scribe, Leon Alexanderson, is the headmaster of the Eight-Part Tower, the foremost mage's college in the world.} [[Return->$currentPassage]]

The people of the Blessed City measure time in a series of seventy-five day long seasons, each containing fifteen weeks of five days. The seasons are named in reverence to the story of creation, while the days are derived from the names and titles of the five gods. In order, the seasons are as follows: 0. Season of Darkness - a cold period representing the begining of the world. 0. Season of Creation - a period of increasing warmth to mark the birth of the world from emptiness. 0. Season of Light - a warm peak in the yearly cycle referencing the introduction of life to the newly formed world. 0. Season of Remembrance - a warm but often rainy period in reverence of the concept of the past being granted by the Scribe. 0. Season of Mastery - a cooling period to represent how the gods' creations were at last placed into power. The days of the week (and the deity for which they are named) are as follows: 0. Thanesday (The Grim Thane) 0. Urthday (The Landfather) 0. Sunsday (The Key) 0. Moonsday (The Scribe) 0. Sordsday (The Bladelord) There are three hundred seventy-five days each year. Return (hide:)[(Note to self: this section is hidden beacuse I needed to write down the information somewhere, but don't know where to put it yet. It may come up naturally in story.) The lunar cycle of the world is 20 days long (ie, a full moon occurs every 20th day). In other words, every 5th day, the moon becomes 1/4 more full. The calendar is synched up so that this happens on Moonsday each week.]

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