NationStates Jolt Archive

The flickering lights hovered through the air, their very presence seeming to instill pleasure in all who saw them. Children tossed coins into the woman's hat, men flirted with her, women laughed as they passed, nodding hello.

And then they had come. Armored soldiers, under the cross of the Inquisition, had come to her little home, where she had lived as she could under the money she made from her gifts. Until that day.

Witch, they had spat. Whore of Satan, mistress of evil. They had destroyed her house, and taken her to the Inquisition's new offices in Menlas, where the survivors had relocated after the destruction of Port Agua in the civil war. She had been subjected to foul tortures. And finally, she had been taken here.

The court house.

Where the charges had been lain against her, and the judge had declared her guilt. And then where she had been shot.

As she lay bleeding, the orbs formed once more, spinning as their mistress, a god-fearing and kind woman, died.

Later, the Prince ordered the deaths of the Inquisitors involved. Later, the people of her home village, with the support of the squire and the county Priest, attacked the Inquisitors there. And that was thought to be the end of it.

However, there are some crimes too large to be so easily and brutally dealt with. And some people who will reach out from beyond the grave to take their revenge...

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The first murder was that of a prominent businessman. He was found lying by the side of the road, his skin not so much burnt as it was thoroughly baked.

The second man was found in a similar manner, inside his bedroom.

A group of children were also found, with their teacher, at a crashed school bus on the way back to the school.

The news spread. The polizei announced themselves baffled. The Inquisition couldn't even figure out what the spirit was, if it was a spirit. Eventually, the whole world learned of it, despite the Prince's best efforts to keep it quiet.

And so it began.

((Okay, this is a thoroughly open RP, to people who have been here since before September last year (inclusive). There is no set plot (well, there is, but... yeah, you know what I mean). You may post anything, so long as it isn't bloody stupid. Use your judgement. Right, ready? GO!))

It just didn't make any sense. Jake had gone over the police reports and testimates from several witnesses. "It just doesnt make any God Damned sense!"
Jake Tyler, current private investigator, former military special operations intelligence officer. He had been hired by some of the parents of the children involved in the bus crash. He had himself looked over that bus and there was no way for those kids to die that way. Not one shred of evidence was found tha pointed a macine causing the killing or anyother person steping on the bus.
Reaching for a glass near by he brought it to his lips. Not a second later he sent it smashing to the floor. Empty He looked around for another bottle to fill his glass but all were empty as the glass. "Damn I need a drink." He got up picking his coat up from a nearby chair and walked out the door, not bothering to lock his office.
It was a short walk to the bar down the street and once there he ordered a double. The bar-keep gave the price and Jake not even bothing to look at the man payed him.
"How did it happen to those kids? To those men? Why there is no linking conection between them." He was muttering to himself, like he did when he couldn't get something. And as he leaned over to bang his head on the counter a small golg cross on a chain, that had been tucked under his shirt, fell out. Funny he had almost forgoten to put it on that morning. Jake was not even a religious man just keeping the cross as a good luck charm.
But looking at at that angle, at the cross upside down, a ide came to his dence head. "No it can't, couldn't... but what if." he sat up quickly and with not bothering to fiish his drink headed for the door. Time to use the church library I think

Minister Emmanuel Broten Turkish snapped shut the file on his makeshift desk and stared at the wall, considering the prominent points.

(1)(a)(i) (He was a very precise thinker) Lord Haberdasherie's favourite cousin baked to death in the middle of the street.
(1)(a)(ii) The area around him showed no sign of extreme temperatures.
(1)(a)(iii) The peasants in the local village deny any knowlege but what can you expect from them?

(2)(a)(i) I must find out what happened.
(2)(a)(ii) I cannot find out what happened.
(2)(a)(iii) Lord Haberdasherie is one of the most powerful men in Slutbum Wallah.

Conclusion :- Find somewhere else to live.

Turkish very carefully pulled back his chair, sat up straight, and smacked his head on the desk in frustration. Sadly, the desk was a mere fold-out travel desk since his hotel room didn't come with one, so the desk responded to his attack by snapping down the middle and embedding splointers in his forehead.

Somehow, for some reason, he felt that this was not going to be a good month for him.

#tagged for future post...

#tag# going to find out when I was created...

OOC: No exceptions :shock: Rats :wink:

The men walked down the street, studying everything carefully. Inspector Tyral Rex of the Polizei roving brigade reached the site. The ground was undisturbed. Reaching down, he put his hand to it, checking for residual heat.

Nothing. He whistled tunelessly. "Okay. The facts make no sense. The Inquisition is baffled. My superiors are useless, and both the Councillor for Justice and the Minister for Police are depending on me for their lives. This is bad."

Tyral swore as he stubbed his toe on something. Reaching down, he found a bit of marble. "What's this doing here?" Pocketing it, he moved onwards, lost in thought.

All the signs point to a supernatural beast, either that or someone armed with a very powerful fire throwing weapon... more powerful then any I know of.

"AAAAAHHH CHOOOOO!" Jake had let out a terrable sneez which only blew up more of the "damned ust" as he put it. There was a reason for all the the dust, as there was tomb after tomb laying on the table in front of him. He had gone through every book the church had on the supernatural and the like. But the Closses he had come to was the mention of hell fire. But that didn't quite to fit the bill of ther crimes.
Sighing Jake set the book he had been looking at aside and rested his arms on the table. "It has to be somthing around the supernatural, I just know it...but seeing it is a whole nother matter."
Just then a voice spoke up behind him. "Pardon me sir but maybe I can help"
Jake turned to face the speaker, it was a old man wearing clerics robes. "How could you help me sir? I have looked at every book the Church has avabile..."
"And you are right boy" A grin then appeared on the mans face. "But what you don't know isd that the church as other book it doen't want people to see. Book that I myself take care of."
Boy? Jake was not a boy by far and kind of resented being called it. But he would listen to the old man. "So old man could you get me one of those book?"
The Old man frowned "No"
"But you said.."
The old man held out a hand that held a rather old tomb. "Rerason being I have the old you are looking for."
Jake took the tomb and held it in his hands flipping it over. And when he looked up the man was gone.
"Odd.." But jake had little time to ponder the old mans disappearence so he sat back down at the table. And as Jake opened the cover he saw in ink just as old as the book, the works 'Propity of Jake Tyler.'
Now things were getting odd but he looked on through ther book the information inside turning his guts. He couldn't take much more and he closed the book and rose from his seat. "The police will never believe this but..." Jake picked up the tomb and walked out of the Church being stopped a few times by church members asking about the tomb. But when they saw his name they didn't ask questions.
The trip to the police station was also uneventful save the news of another attack. That made James hurry along faster.
Once he reached the nearest police station he walked right up to the front counter "Hello I would like to speak to the office in charge of the fire murders"

tag

The man on duty stared, blankly. "We're sorry, we're taking the line that this is Inquisitorial business. Check with the Priest, or with the Office of Special Investigations. The Polizei are finished with this case."

There was a whisper from behind the desk. The desk constable rolled his eyes. "Or, you could go to the Squire's office, and look for some roving brigade inspector."

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The man ran, ran for his life. He looked behind him. Twin balls of fire floated through the air. "I don't believe in ghosts. I don't believe in ghosts."

He was about to learn that ghosts believe in him.

<------------

The news of strange deaths reached the ears of a somewhat well-known hunter of things demonic and otherwise unholy, a Dark Argonian known only as Whiptail.

Whiptail carried little with him on his return to Roania, simply his katanas and his old M1911. His threadbare cloack skimmed the rough ground behind him as he traversed the terrain leading to this place he had heard of, mostly in rumors more than actual concrete facts...

His mind recalled the last time he had been here, chasing after the vampire known as Kain Irencius, winding up stuck in a ventilation shaft for several hours in an attempt to infiltrate the Inquisition's headquarters. Whiptail growled at the thought... he hated the Inquisition, with their old-fashioned methods and stereotypical means of selection... the torture of their mostly innocent victims... Whiptail's R93 lay in a battered leather briefcase in his hut back in the far-away Black Marsh, mostly to keep himself from picking off an Inquisitor or two...

Whiptail finally arrived at the small town, the site of the strange murders... His sources had informed him that several other operatives from distant lands where in the area, notably an investigator from Slutbum Wallah. Whiptail purchased a small room at the local inn, settling in for the night... he would hunt better when he had rested a bit...

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0SQCbAhkX!XD9Gg*7*ehF6cH*X5IlDKRUjPRICPEmwC9rc1aZwmReN85!7qA!YJxm33q0wxM9OK3VyTIIOPjr!8hJ4w3XbF7cqd2 SlNu6Th!XZQ3fwTcINg/flotbolt.gif?dc=4675459847400568369

Another mysterious death has occured in the town of Middleburgh. Master Richard Jarvis, a Burgher of the North Company, was found dead in the forest. His body was scorched beyond recognition, and he was identified through his dental records.

Jarvis was visiting Middleburg from the Stronghold of Roan on business. He wandered away from the town, and was evidently killed.

Huge third degree burns covered the entire torso and face. His family are asked to come and collect his remains from the Polizei deposit.

This showcases another failure of the Prime Minister's security policies. The Inquisition has also had no luck, its hands tied by buerocracy(sp?).

jake felt pissed at the police lack of get up and go. "Alright were might I find Office of Special Investigations"

Whiptail began the new day with an hour of Roanian news, detailing the death of some public official, who had been burned like the rest of them...