Murder Most Foul

[*Peculiar Presence]

Sitting between Blackshade Lane and RagpickerÂ’s square, Nica approached the cluster of windowless vaults arranged around a black dome. The dreary surroundings were punctuated by the occasional Hiver shooting Nica a dirty look, or perhaps a group of thugs observing her as a jackal would a fresh carcass. A general feeling of dread permeated the area as she made her way through the crowded, unclean streets filled with flop houses and cheap taverns.

On the way, Nica made her way past a public open-air monument, then passed through the front gates, and climbed the main steps leading to the Great Hall were all the visitors were processed. Five Dustmen stood guard before the Hall, regarding Nica in a blank, impassive way that only Dustmen could.

One of them stepped forward to speak to her in a monotone, flat voice- “What brings you here?”. He was a human male, no more than 30 years of age with light skin, dark hair, and dreadlocks. His expression could only be described as ‘stonefaced.’

[*Viann]

Nica would remove her helmet, propping it under her arm. Looking with her own resting sternface at the Dustmen around before fixating the blue eyes critically at the one speaking.

"My name is Nica Brianna Kelter, I am a Measure One of the Harmonium. And I've come here to investigate a missing person. More specifically, whether or not a body that would fit the description has emerged to the mortuary, or if you'd know anything of it."

She'd pause a moment before going on with the details about the missing person. Whether or not they appeared to wish to hear it, she'd continue, eyes checking the dustmen gathered for any telltale signs, after all, she didn't particularly trust them.

"Her name is Raziel Trener, a human female, average height, average weight, bureaucrat frame... they went missing just few days ago. With them might've been books in possession... they disappeared around the Clerks Ward... so has anything that would match these criterias turn up?"

[*DaftyXIII]

walking out of a pub late in the Clerks Ward, the albino human male told the bar keep he's headed to the house of healing for a follow up. Stumbling along the cobble he starts to make his way to the House of Healing with a bottle of scotch in hand... he then tipped back the bottle in front of the establishment of his destination.

[*Peculiar Presence]

The Dustmen were, generally speaking, not known to be helpful towards Harmonium. However this human male spoke flatly but with an earnest demeanor towards Nica. He did not give any telltale signs of lying or even being dismissive. However, the answer was not one Nica wanted to hear.

"No, I would know if any bodies from the Clerk's fit that bill, but nothing like that has recently turned up. You can check back later this week to see if any body matches that description. Also, any possessions like books would have been stripped from the bodies and sold off by the Collectors prior to them ending up here."

[*Peculiar Presence]

A thick blue-gray fog descends thickly upon Drake as he stumbles through the night. The way to the House of Healing would normally be clear to a regular like him, but the fog with occasional silvery wisps of smoke tendrils occluded his view. Combined with his intoxicated state, he was truly lost at this point.

The temperature dropped several degrees abruptly, and he could hear slow, deliberate footsteps behind him.

[*DaftyXIII]

as the thick fog settles in a chill ran down the albino human males spine "gods it's cold out...." He looks around trying to gain his bearings on his surroundings, he hears faint footsteps in the distance when looks in that direction he sees a figure coming into sight, it takes a moment before he could see clearly who it was and a panic would settle in as he turns the opposite and trying to run away to only fall to his hands and knees. turning himself around with his back to the cobble he would look up to the figure fear stricken and say simply "... you!?"

[*Peculiar Presence]

The unfortunate albino, after having fallen, felt a ..stiffening.. sensation. Initially it seemed as if he was slowing down, but then he couldn't move. This seemed odd, because things around him were very clearly moving. It's as if time itself stood still.

The fog began to thicken and become more sinewy, but then cleared in a small area to reveal what had been producing the footsteps. A tall figure, likely human with the head of a bird, or perhaps a very elaborate mask stood before him, staring with beady eyes. The creature was formally dressed, as if heading to a masquerade, but Drake could barely make out the other details as all that filled his mind now were those terrible black eyes.

One moment it was approximately 10 meters away from Drake, and the very next, it was directly in front of his face - as if it had teleported- though that was impossible in Sigil. Drake's arms felt sluggish, and if he tried to get up he would have found that his movements were far too slow.

Something was horribly awry.

The creature wordlessly moved its beak closer to drake's face, and held out a white-gloved hand to cradle the albino's similarly-colored cheek. It cocked its head in the oddest way. That's the last thing Drake saw before everything became black, and an indescribably sharp pain hit his eyes. His eyeballs were being plucked out.

He couldn't scream, or do anything for that matter.

Some time later, a shambling, hunched figure shuffled out of the vicinity, blending easily into the foggy surroundings.

When the air had cleared, his body was gone.

[*Peculiar Presence]

[*Bruce Baxter]

Bruce walks out of the Hall of Records. He swiftly strides towards the Barracks where he plans to spend a long night doing research. He keeps his eyes peeled, and his guard at the ready, should anything or anyone give him trouble.

[*Peculiar Presence]

It was a very foggy night.

Bruce never made it to the Barracks.