by Cinnabar » Tue Jun 05, 2007 10:11 pm
It is very little time at all after the ill-fated gentleman calls upon the library that the authorities are alerted. The man himself is apparently a regular visitor, middle-aged and dressed more for comfort than fashion; his fondness of quaint folklore and fanciful legends evidenced by the armful of books that lie strewn about his body, scattered pages now darkened by the blood that pools from his ruined skull, now covered by a linen sheet that grows similarly stained. Indeed, the incident had in fact been witnessed by a cabinet-maker's apprentice across the street, who had been lazing on his broom when he should have been sweeping out his master's shop; his distraught shouting had brought his master out to the doorstep, and it was not long after that that the Constabulary had been summoned.
Now the library steps are cordoned off, a handful of Street Constables keeping the growing crowd of onlookers at bay while a harried Detective Constable Lars Hendrick looks over the scene; harried in part because he is the first of his branch to get to the scene, and also because the High Constable Calomel himself is recently arrived, glaring at the shattered body on the library's doorstep as if it is a personal affront to him. A moment of that, and Calomel is carefully stepping around the pool of drying blood to enter the library itself.
The first thing he notes is the chill inside, the air significantly cooler than the building's high ceiling and stone walls can account for; almost bitter, in fact, for all that the morning promises to be mild and pleasant outside. This has him scowling as he makes his way further into the library, observing the scattered and eviscerated books with pages crudely torn from their spines; the wanton destruction reinforces his suspicions, the heavy-handed brutality of it deepening his scowl as he paces the room, until at last one detail catches his eye, and he crouches to observe it more closely.
As the detective enters the library and crosses the room towards him he finally reaches to pick up the thing, carefully, turning it this way and that between slender fingers.
It is a flower, a rose, cast aside upon the floor. It would appear fresh and lush save for those patches upon it, blots marring those delicate petals like some sort of blight, or perhaps as if withered by frost; the High Constable shifts his grasp to hold the rose just so, and the marks line up almost perfectly beneath his fingertips. He sets the rose down where he found it, straightening and looking to the detective expectantly.
"What do we know so far?"
The detective clears his throat, glancing down to a notebook whose pages are lined with charcoal-pencil scribblings, then makes his report.
"The lad claims he saw the victim attacked by a uh, demon, sir." He coughs at the High Constable's raised brow, and hurriedly continues. "Struck the victim down with a large mace. One blow, apparently. Described as seven feet tall, clad in black armour, black cloak, and with eyes that blazed like the fires of... uh, Hell itself." He grows less confident as Calomel's expression darkens further, clearly not pleased at all with this news. "...Sir."
Cinnabar remains lost in thought for a moment, then his gaze regains focus and he looks back to the man, smoothing his features from their near-snarl of anger to something more calm and collected. "Teron Ashfiend is the perpetrator's name, or what he calls himself at least. I have... encountered him recently." A glint of vexation flickers in his eyes, but is carefully controlled. "He is extremely dangerous, and not to be approached without considerable support. I will be issuing a briefing to all Constables presently. In the meanwhile, any sign of the librarian?"
"No sir. The library door was unlocked, while indicates that she was present at some time this morning, but no one's seen her today. Certainly not since then, uh, the murder."
"Mm. I see. I'll return to the Yard now and have some men sent to assist you; I'd recommend paying particular attention to the defaced books - it would appear that our murderer was looking for something, and they should give you an indication as to what, and possibly where." A nod, and a pat on the man's shoulder as the High Constable turns to depart.
"Be careful, Hendrick. This is a dark business, and not without danger. If he returns, get any civilians clear and then get yourself clear. I want no more deaths."
With hurried strides the High Constable departs, brow furrowed with concern as he puzzles over how to go about putting an end to this murderous creature's rampage through Myrken.
Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.