The ranking officer steps forward and produces a bulls-eye lantern from under his cloak. Lighting it he begins to inspect the body as well as each of you in turn.
As he takes his time examining both the murdered woman and your personages the crowd gathered begins to whisper.
"It was Beatrice Bump it was, poor girl".
"Mark my words, this is the same way it started the last time.."
"This lot found her".
"Found her? Right over 'er dead body while its still warm? I say the murderers are right 'ere"
"Naw, tha's Derrick Tramsen, is wot, 'e's a good bloke, wouldno hurt a woman like tha'"
As the crowd begins to press in the rest of the watch starts to take a perimeter around the scene.
The officer stands up, "Show is over good people of Blackchappel. These men are innocent of this foul deed, the deed is far too grisly for men with such clean hands to have committed the atrocity".
The crowd murmurs but begins to move along as one of the watchmen heads to locate a charnel wagon for the body of the deceased.
As the crowd breaks up the officer gathers you all close to him, "I am Inspector Andrew Logan of Paridon. As you have seen this killer, your lives too may be in danger. If you ever need my help, just ask it. I may need your help at some pint as well. I beg of you, if you ever discover anything useful, tell me immediately. The sooner we stop this murderer, the safer we will all be. Before you go your separate ways this night, indulge me and volunteer your identities".
Wyatt Kyros - History.
Marco stands silently and awaits the answers of the others before relaying his identity.
"I am Wyatt Kyros the Sage of Southshore, certainly you have heard of me?"
I am Dunstan Gossington-Gorth. He slips his hand into his coat and comes out with a name card which he hands to the officer.
"Derrick Tramsen, Brother of the Apex of Experience," Derrick murmurs, glancing back to the body and then at Wyatt for only a moment. Kyros? That was a shame. Always wondered what happened to the son. "I'll be sure to let you know if I stumble upon anything in my meditations, Inspector."
"Khalid de la Poer at your service" Khalid says with a bow. "I run a small curiosity shop called The Firefly in South Shore. I can usually be found there if I am needed."
Marco nods his head.
Marco Andrezi, denizen of Blackchapel.
Logan eyes Marco, "As a resident in this neighborhood, I would take special precaution Mr. Andrezi. Have a good evening Gentlemen, I am sure we will be in touch".
As the charnel wagon arrives and the woman's body is carted away, the mist begins to roll back. The lights of the neighborhood gutter dimly in their street lanterns. The brightest lights can be seen around the corner in front of a Tavern where most of the people who gathered around the scene have headed back to, The Twin Sons Pub.
Derrick and Dunstan, several years ago, you remember a series of murders in this neighborhood.
As the streets become again deserted Wyatt turns to you all, "This is troubling indeed gentlemen. When I was but a teenager I remember hearing about a series of similar incidents in Blackchapel. When my parents were fond dead in this same neighborhood, I did some research to see if perhaps their deaths were connected to those deaths. IN my research I discovered that a similar series of murders has been happening approximately every fifteen years for at least the last several decades. This may not be the last death in Paridon unless someone does something about it".
Well gents, I'm for a pint, or two. Let's see if we can find out more about this girl that just got it, eh?
Gavin looks about the tall ones, utterly confused. "Peridon? Blackchapel? Southshore? The Apex...of Experience? Where in the Lost Realms am I?!?!" After his exclamation, he pulls a flask from within his longcoat and takes a fierce swig. Sighing, he tucks the flask away then rebuttons his coat, straightens his hat, and looks back up.
"Me apologies, gents. Seems I've stumbled in'te someting I don' exactly understand. Gavin Entwhistle's the name, an' I'm a blessed servant of the Redeemer, Illandros, father of the Sacred Dawn. 'Tis a pleasure to meet y'all. An' I for one could use a pint."
Ive rarely gone into such public houses but if you help me watch for pickpockets I could be persuaded to take a drink - hopefully some brandy.
He moves to secure his coin purse by thrusting it deep into one of his pockets while settling his cloak to cover over it.
"Aye, let's get summat to drink," Derrick says, and he claps Dunstan on the shoulder. "Relax, guv, ain't no one gonna nick your coinage. Don't believe everythin' you 'ear 'bout Blackchapel, eh?"
During the walk he raises an eyebrow at the halfling's comments, but looks to Wyatt. "Agreed, there's something odd about these killings. The Divinity also has some records of the murders in the past. And while it may help send these people to new, better lives and closer to reaching the Apex, it seems less than ideal as a means of transportation."
Wyatt looks at Gavin with a cocked head, "You are not the first person I have met who has had such notions. It seems that sometimes the mist brings travelers from other places here to our small island city. Let us hope you have just gotten lost and are not from the Asylum of the Mentally Disturbed on the mainland" he chuckles despite the fact that he is half serious.
"So be it, no better way to gain more information than to ask around. Is it not strange that our Inspector did not bother to speak to anyone else but us?" Wyatt asks as he accompanies the rest of you to the Tavern.
Marco smiles broadly and deviously.
Aye, let's do the job for the coppers. They never were very smart about it here in Blackchapel.
He throws his arm around Derrick,
C,mon mate, let's show these new blokes a bit o' our local hospitality.
Three short steps lead down into the high-ceilinged room of a public drinking house. A few dozen men and women occupy the place and the patrons nearest the door, some whose faces you recognize from the gathering outside, stop talking and stare at you. Behind the bar, two men who are obviously twins pour wine into flagons on a serving girl's tray.
As you move through the crowd to the bar you hear murmurs around you.
Cheery place, says Dunstan.
First round is on me - least I can do.
The soldier orders a brandy while waiting for the orders from his new companions before paying with a gold coin. He is careful to get his change back.
"Paying for the round, eh?" Derrick winks at Marco as he turns to the bartenders. "I'll have the most expensive drink you can give me, gents. How's that for 'local hospitality?' "
Taking the cup with a grin, Derrick turns to survey the tavern, leaning on the bar and drinking in the scene more than the alcohol. Been too long since I was back here. Home. How many pockets did I pick in this place a few years back? How many jobs did I get?
As he surveys the room, he notices a fellow member of the Divinity and elbows whoever's next to him, nodding at the man. Going to talk, his eyes say, before he approaches Morton at the man's table and sits down. "Morton, chum. How are you? What brings you to this fine establishment?"
On of the Twins takes your Gold coin and gives you back 3 silver as change Dunstan.
He seems about to say something to you and then shakes his head a bit and turns to fill another order from a customer calling out for more drink.
Morton looks up at you, "No wife, no family. What else is there to do but drink myself into one of my own caskets eh? The real question is what are you doing here. I thought you made it out".
Wyatt begins to make the rounds with the locals.
Persuasion
Gavin listens to Wyatt's evaluation of his situation with a single raised eyebrow. "Drawn 'ere, eh? Well then, I think a pint or two may help wit all that today has presented. An' I may be a bit touched, but that is by the Almighty Illandros, an' that's a blessing I am proud to bear."
Walking into the tavern with the others, he casually calls up to the barkeep, "Pint o' ale, fine chap. Somethin' dark, with a touch of bitter, if ye may." Taking the pint, he looks up to Wyatt, "So, good sir, this here is yer neighborhood, then? These things happen of'en in... Blackchapel, was it?"
Wyatt turns to Gavin , "No. My parents used to preach here, it is the poorest district in the city. This night eight years ago, they were murdered. I was just coming to put flowers in the spot where they were found. This is certainly a dangerous district but what we found was a bit out of the ordinary. Or at lest it is with the exception of every several years it seems. I wonder how far back in time these murders go..."
Dunstan's coin covers Gavin and Wyatt's drinks.
One of the locals chimes in, "No good dredging up the past ye' fool. Leave the dead buried I say".
Your parents sound like good solid folk Wyatt - here's to raising a glass to them. You also mentioned some other murders as well?
Khalid accepts a glass of red sweet for the bartender and gives a nod of thanks to Dunstan. "This will certainly help take the edge off of this evening. Such a ghastly scene."
Khalid nods when hearing Dunstans question. "Yes, I hadn't heard of these other murders. Is there some known pattern to them?"
"Out?" Derrick asks the other man, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a monk in the Apex, Mort. It's not about out or in, it's about experiencing life as it is." He sips the drink and frowns, unused to the more expensive spirits. "I was here walking in meditation. There's been a murder."
Well, I never left ya, Mort! What do ya hear 'bout these murders that even the locals may not know?
Wyatt nods to Dunstan and Khalid, "Yes many murders strung over many years. I think I would need to check with the hall of records to make any connection. Perhaps it is a coincidence after all my parents murder does not fit the pattern. Let me see if anyone else here has recognized the same sort of things".
Wyatt begins to mingle.
Dunstan, Gavin and Khalid are all still by the bar. The area they occupy is an open space as the crowd has drifted away from you fine folk a bit.
Wyatt is walking around canvassing different groups of people.
Derrick and Marco have gone to a nearby table with a man whose name if the rest of the group was not mistaken is Mort.
Mort frowns at Derrick, "Out of Blackchapel or am I mistaken that I have not seen hide nor hair of you for sometime?"
Mort looks at Marco darkly and leans forward whispering in conspiratorial tones, "I prepared some of them murder victims for burial, you know, them that was killed 13 years ago. There wasn't a pint of blood left in any of them, but all of the bodies were marked with twin puncture wounds".
Derrick nods at Mort's clarification. "Ah, yes. I do most of my walking in other neighborhoods, often around the Temple itself. Although I've dropped in here from time to time--usually to say hellos to old chaps like Marco."
He frowns deeply at the mention of the old bodies' condition and raises an eyebrow. "What're ya sayin', Mort? Summat mighty strange 'bout the murders? Summat... less than human?"
Now little man, says Dunstan turning to Gavin.
Whats this about Whitechappell - I can't help thinking you have things mixed up.
Mort shrugs, "You be the judge I am jes' tellin' what I saw..."
Aye, Mort, what copper is lookin' into this. Do they know what made the puncture wounds, and are we seein' that this time around?
Mort shrugs, "I bet I will see the body tomorrow. If you want to come round again I can let you know though I do be mighty thirsty this night...
Count me in. You up for it, Derrick?
"Of course. These attacks are disturbing, to say the least." The monk leans on the table and points to Dunstan. "As for your thirst, talk to the fancy gent over there. He said he'll pay for our round, and Marco and I say you're part of it."
Dunstan looks somewhat offended by the cavalier use of his funds but hands the man a silver coin.
Mort lifts his mug towards Dunstan and begins drinking, "Very well gents. Will be here at sundown then and tell you all about what I find".
Wyatt returns from his rounds and motions for Marco and Derrick to come back to the gathering of the little group at the bar.
"It seems our victim s one Beatrice Bump, a Lady of the Night. Our attacker may well have been one of her clients or simply an opportunistic stalker who fund her trolling for her next trick.
Logan is one the Chief Inspectors of Paridon a respected man even here in this district. Seems he was a man who rose from the common born to attain his position and seems at least to try to catch criminals even here in Blackchapel.
Most of the patrons were not to keen on speaking about the past but a Hoag van Render did divulge that he heard the victims of 13 years ago were fund partially devoured with huge fang marks in their flesh.
We saw a man for certain so perhaps there is no connection as that type of damage sounds more like a beast than a man.
I suppose the real question is, do we wish to pursue this killer?"
I am against violence against women and beastliness in all its forms - the identity of the killer does trouble me. I am between military postings at the moment - I will assist.
And the fact he appeared to be a member of the upper classes, he thinks to himself, unwilling to betray, as yet, one of his own class.
Khalid nods. "Certainly. I've never been one to back from a mystery, and if we can avenge that poor girl, all the better. Perhaps we should seek this Logan out again and volunteer our services? We can see if he has come up with anymore leads throughout the night."
Aye, see ya tomorrow, Mort.
Marco nudges Derrick and heads over to the others.
Derrick and I can add, that our friend over there is privy to burying the bodies. He also told us 'bout the fang marks. Mayhap we got the same kind of killer from before? He is checking tomorrow. We are to meet him back here at sundown for more info.