In my old age as I look back on my life, I am bewildered at how it has unfolded. And even how I have survived for so long when the winds of fate have so constantly sought to tear me from this Earth. Others from my youth have not been so lucky. I cannot count on both paws how many have departed from my life.
I am old and weary now, and those days of eldritch beings are long behind me. But now I pick up my pen and set it to parchment in the hopes of honoring those dear friends who left me far too soon. This account is for the ones who fought tooth and nail to keep us safe from the abominations that sought to wreck havoc upon our little town.
-
Fletcher rested a paw on the windowsill and stared out into the night, his tail twitching anxiously. It was a forlorn night, light snow dusting the cobblestone road outside his home. He couldn't shake the feeling that something important was going to happen tonight.
Paranine clutched her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she made her way through the winding streets of Dunwich towards Redwall. The evening was cold, but nice, and she wasn't too worried at the moment(though on guard, as a lone shrewmaid should be late at night). Heading off to meet a fellow named Coaltop at the Abbey about work.
Emerging from a sidestreet, a tall mouse nearly ran straight into Paranine. Startled, the pocket watch he had been staring at fell from his paw. Thankfully, the mouse managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. Straightening up, he offered a paw to the shrewmaid.
"Sorry 'bout that, marm. Francis Alhazred, at your service. Headin' up t'the Abbey as well?"
"Oh yes, I'm here to meet a potential employer. I'm not sure what exactly they need me for, but work it work ya know. Times are tough and all that blab."
"Got any identification?" A mouse guard grunted shortly as he shuffled around Coaltop patting the weasel down. Coaltop held his paws higher as the mouse searched every inch of him. Should Coaltop been a modest creature he might have found the search embarrassing. Yet for once somebeast was literally forced listen to him, and Coaltop was not easily embarrassed.
"Naw, should I have brought some? I didn't really think it was all that important. Oh be carful with that. It's my latest study, I'm researching how certain fluids react to each other. Gonbie's theory on chemical reaction equations might be incorrect, I believe there might be a chance at leftover reactants available for cont-"
"Right." The mouse interrupted, he had left off searching the weasel switching to the satchel that Coaltop had brought with him. Placing the two vials of chemicals on his desk the mouse also removed a well pen, several bottles of substances, and some swabs. "So just scrawl a signature here and whenever you leave make sure to check out with me. Go on through ma'am." A female hedgehog nodded her thanks before entering the Abbey hefting a large sack on her back. This might have annoyed most creatures, but not Coaltop.
"Once your through with your business recollect your confiscated items here." The mouse drawled on holding out a pad of paper and a quill. Coaltop quickly scribbled down his name and nodded to the mouse.
"Thanks mate." Tipping his beret the weasel picked up his bag, now empty, and ambled into the Abbey looking around in interest.
"And you say that he just disappeared? Into the water?"
"Yes, officer."
"Inspector."
Nick Valentine observed the elderly lady otter in front of him. It was a simple case, her grandson was swimming close to shore in the Abbey pond when he ventured too far out and sunk into the depths. It wasn't strange for someone like her to panic and think it a murder, although Nick still thought that it wasn't natural. He waved for two police officers to take her out as he stood up. The chief of police waited by the door to Nick's office. "Nick, I really don't see how this is anything but an accident. The circumstances point it in that direction-"
Nick breathed a sigh of exasperation. "Look, baby otters don't just sink. I mean, they're otters. Otters swim."
He stopped walking alongside the chief, instead turning into a side room. This room was dim and filled with the faint whir of fans and the rustle of papers. The quiet atmosphere was broken by the mouse's voice. "Catherine?"
A young hare looked up from the desk she was sitting at. "Yes, Inspector?"
"I need a file on all the murders, missing persons cases, and any possibly criminal activities around the Abbey Pond. Hellgates, make it the whole Abbey area. I want it on my desk before the end of my shift at 9. Okay?"
She nodded in understanding.
Paranine took the offered paw lightly and shook it before letting her paws drop to her sides disinterestedly, "Aye, I'm fine." She stared at him a few moments before remembering to curtsy, "Paranine," she introduced herself, "yes, I am."
Francis glanced at the pocket watch once more.
"Getting late. Should probably start to hurry if I'm going to make it there in time."
The mouse left Paranine to her own devices and set off at a brisk pace. He studied a small notepad whilst on the move, muttering to himself.
"Hmm, R'lyeh...Disappearances...Talk to Hastur."
"Hm?" Paranine hummed, twitching an ear at the disappearances part. She jogged a bit to keep close to him, planning to eavesdrop on any further mutterings. R'lyeh was a little new to her, but not unheard of. She'd have a talk with Fletcher later about that.
Francis raised an eyebrow as Paranine expressed quiet interest in his mutterings. The mouse paused, slowing to walk beside her.
"Interested in my research, are you? Well, I guess telling somebeast can't hurt, so long as you don't spread the rumors all over the town. My brother, Hastur, left home some seasons back to come to Dunwich. I found his notes, and followed him here. Apparently there've been a number of disappearances in the Abbey, linked to the pond. And I found this scrawled inside the vocer: 'Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.' No idea what it means."
Nick returned to his office and slumped in his chair. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out and closed his eyes. Often, he did this to clear his head and to help figure out the mystery. Drownings weren't uncommon at the Abbey pond, just easily taken care of. Most victims were rescued in the nick of time. Unless...
He moved on to a different train of thought. The otter was a good swimmer, his parents and grandmother had all testified to his excellence in the water. There had been no other swimmer at the time - many beasts were on the shore, but none in the water. Except for the otter, of course.
Witness reports. Some of the creatures at the scene seemed to have seen and heard the otter crying for help. Many didn't respond to those sorts of calls by children, always assuming that they were just playing. Nobeast got a good look at the water, however.
It had been said before that the drowning was actually a murder. Nick contemplated the possibility. It would've been easy for any creature to hold his breath for long enough and slip in unnoticed, waiting underwater to drag the otter down. But who would want to kill the child?
The mouse's eyes popped open. Looking at the clock, he decided he would go on an early lunch break. What was the harm? He stood up and slipped on his coat. On his way out of the room, Nick bumped into Catherine. "Mr. Valentine, I got those files. There wasn't much to go off of, so I threw in some witness reports on the past crimes. Is that okay?"
Nick nodded. "Leave it on my desk, I'm leaving for lunch."
She started telling him that he should stick to his schedule, but the mouse was already out of the door.
Many of the best cafés and restaurants were on the main avenue leading up to the Abbey gates, but Nick knew a place deep in the city that was an excellent location to meet contacts, get up to speed on gossip, and eat a great plate of food, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. He started down a side street which would lead him to the restaurant.
When he arrived, the weasel behind the counter smiled at Nick and beaconed to an empty booth at near the front. This was Ivan, one of Nick's backstreet "friends." In reality, he was a waiter by day and a criminal at night. Nick had caught him a long time ago and was still blackmailing the weasel into giving him information. The mouse grinned back as he took his seat. "Good to see you again, Mr. Hassett. I was wondering about something different this time... Something from the Abbey?"
Ivan dropped his smile. "I suppose you've heard about the murder, Mr. Valentine? Shame that such a young beast had to die."
Leaning in under the pretense of giving Nick a menu, the weasel whispered, "Twelve years ago, it was squirrel twins. Same circumstances as the last one, last name of Calchas."
Standing back up straight, he backed away. "The cooks will have your meal ready shortly."
Glancing once again at his watch, Francis left Paranine to think on the information.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, strolling down the street, but I have to hurry up. I'm taking a shortcut, see you around."
The mouse ducked into a back alley at a brisk jog, disappearing from sight quickly.
<\//\\/>
Taking the alley turned out to be a positive move. Within minutes, Francis was staring at the gates of Redwall Abbey. The mouse thumped them roughly. A wizened old dormouse creaked the gate open.
"'Oo a' 'you, mista? Ya face 'sn't known t'me."
Francis shook the dormouse's crackled paw.
"Francis Alhazred. I'm here to talk to Hastur, my brother."
The dormouse nodded, beckoning for the newcomer to come inside.
Nick left the restaurant thinking hard. Two victims, with the exact same circumstances, killed in the pond. Squirrels. Calchas. He'd have to consult the database for accidents by the pond, although it probably wouldn't yield much. Perhaps if he looked at the coroner's report in the Abbey, seeing that they did their own funerals. That would give him the cause of death, murder or accident.
A plan formulating in his head, Nick started toward the main Abbey gates. The area was still bustling with beasts trying to get in, but he as fairly certain his badge would make short work of the security.
OOC: Sand, mind if you play security like you did in your post?
OOC: No problem
IC:
The mouse security guard waved his paw letting in a few bustling voles. His gaze slipped uninterestedly over their bags as they walked through. "Evening Mr. Bankston, Mrs. Bankston, an the little Bankstons too, have a pleasant evening."
He looked up as another mouse approached the gate. Smiling at the visitor, the guard flicked his claws to get his attention.
"Pleasant evening sir, I'm afraid I don't recognize you, please sign your name here. Do you have an appointment, or are you here for a standard visit?"
~*~*~*~*~*~
By the pond Coaltop paced back and forth across the bank occasionally scratching his arm. He was early, very early in fact but that didn't stop him from being concerned. It wouldn't be the first time somebeast stood him up for being a weasel.
The arranged meeting spot was devoid of any other creatures. A few young otters splashed in the shadows further away enjoying the cool evening waters. However beyond them Coaltop was alone. Tapping his claws together Coaltop watched as one of the young otters backstroked out into the deeper waters her nose sticking out above the surface.
She was small, probably an orphan that the Abbey had taken in. Turning away from her Coaltop fiddled with some sand his mind instantly occupied with thousands of ideas. Apply heat and pressure to sand and it created glass. What would happen if somebeast was to apply heat and pressure to other materials?
Nick pulled out his police badge as he walked forward. This was a new guard, he hadn't seen him yet. "Hello, I'm Inspector Valentine with the DPD. I hope it's okay that I just pop in - there are some beasts living on the grounds that I need to question regarding a lead I have one a case. Oh, I suppose you need my ID."
The mouse fumbled with his inner jacket pocket. Finally, he extracted the small slip of paper with his credidentials and such. "Here," he said.
The old dormouse led Francis through the Abbey's darkened halls, stopping near the kitchen.
"Here you go. Hastur kept an office in the cellars, just go through the kitchen. I bid you goodnight."
Francis thanked the dormouse and strode through the kitchen, nodding to the kitchen assistants. Time to find out what Hastur truly knew...He stopped at a small staircase and ducked into the cellars. A solid wooden door was set into a corner with the words "Hastur Alhazred. P.I." carved into a plaque. Francis tried the handle but it was locked. Setting his shoulder to the door, the mouse pushed against it with all his might. Nothing. He knocked on it forcefully.
"Hastur! You in there? Open the door, it's your brother!"
No response...Francis peered through the keyhole, but it was too small to see anything. He crossed the cellar and found a hedgehog toiling away with a barrel of October Ale.
"Excuse me, friend. Francis Alhazred, I'm here to find my brother Hastur, but his door is locked."
The hedgehog nodded, unclipping a keyring from his broad belt.
"'Ere, take these. They'll open erry door in the cellars. Just bring 'em back t'me when yer done."
Francis nodded, going back to Hastur's office. The mouse turned the key in the lock, and walked into the office. He let out a scream. Hastur was indeed in the office, hanging from the ceiling by his neck with a thick rope woven from pondweed. His corpse was covered in hundreds of injuries. Written on the wall in blood, nodoubtly his, were the words "Alhazred! G'yeth! G'yeth!"
The mouse guard barely glanced at the credentials. He focused instead on the badge his eyes nearly popping out of his head. "Ah welcome inspector, what a surprise. Please go in by all means." The mouse did a half salute then as if remembering something picked up a sheet of paper.
"Um if you wouldn't mind Inspector, I'm trying to sign onto the city police. Perhaps you could put in a good word in for me sometime?"
Nick nodded, accepting the sheet. He glanced down at the paper. "Yeah... I can do that. Um, you wouldn't happen to know here the... Calchas family lives? They're squirrels, if that's any help."
The mouse guard shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid I don't know where they live, however I know what happened, poor folks. Sometimes they wait around the pond I think in remembrance or something, though If they aren't there they'll be in the dormitories. I don' think they've moved out yet."
The guard slipped off his hat and looking grimly at Nick. "I say did you hear about the otter family? Same thing happened to them. Such a tragic accident, yes sir it is. Anyway If I could help you with anything sir just call."
Nick simply had to show his badge again to get into the Abbey itself. He didn't even bother looking at the pond, at least not for now. The mouse was so occupied with staring around at the Abbey - he hadn't been inside for a while - that he stumbled down the cellar steps and landed with a bump at the end. Picking himself up, Nick quickly grabbed his pistol and jammed it inside his coat. "Hmph..." Just as he was about to go back up the steps out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the door ajar... And red. Blood red.
Francis heard a loud bump from outside the makeshift office. He pulled out his shortbow, notched an arrow to it, and kicked the door open, arrow pointed straight at Nick. He yelled at the other mouse, his voice tinged with a distinctive sob.
"WHO ARE YOU? Why...Why are you here? Did you do this? DID YOU DO THIS? I swear to Hellgates, I'll kill you!"
Nick slowly stood up, eyes fixed on the arrow. "No need for that, my friend... just put it down. I'm with the police." He could already see the shock setting in on the mouse's face. He didn't murder the dead mouse, and he didn't look to be in an condition to do it again. "Did you know him?" he said, easing his paws into his pocket and taking a tentative step forward.
"He...Was my brother. He was investigating the disappearances linked to the pond. Apparently he made a big breakthrough, told me to drop all of my own cases, come help him. And...here we are. That's our name, written on the wall. I don't know what G'yeth means, though. If I find who did this..."
Francis threw the shortbow aside, collapsing into Hastur's chair.
"There has to be some kind of clue around here. Maybe in his journals. Maybe in the message. And who strangles somebeast with pondweed? There's something wrong here. I can feel it."
Nick hurried forward, concern in his face. "Get out of the chair, it could have something in it or in it! Just... Step aside."
He took in the scene fully. "Well, definitely a murder. You'll have to come in and get interviewed. Do you know where the non-governmental records for your brother are stored? We could use them."
"There's nothing in the bloody chair, I think I would have noticed. And to hell with getting interviewed. He was my brother, this obviously happened because of his investigations, and I'll handle it myself. When I find the scum who did this, I'll fill 'em with more arrows than a squealing hedgehog in the middle of a battle."
The mouse composed himself.
"Records? I have no idea, but there's probably something in one of his journals."
Francis picked up a small, black book with several dried smears of blood on it.
"Looks like the most recent one...Here we go. This is the latest entry:"
I did it. I don't know how, but I did it. The phrase I kept hearing repeated, "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn," it means: "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming." I don't know who brought me the letter that explained it, but I do now know about this R'lyeh place. It was some sort of city near Salamandastron that Mother Nature herself thought was too evil for this world. The seas rose by a thousand leagues, killing all the inhabitants. Now there are only two ways to get to the city. Through the tunnels under Salamandastron, most of which are either flooded or collapsed, or deep down the Abbey Pond, into the place of the Veiled Ones. Francis is on his way as I write this. When he gets here we can sort this all out together.
Nick was quickly getting annoyed with this mouse. "I don't know who you are, but I would prefer that you let me handle what is clearly a murder. I'd prefer not to get a second beast killed his week."
"I just told you who I am. My name is Francis Alhazared, I am an investigator. Somebody killed my brother Hastur, so I'll handle this myself. Now, if you aren't going to help me, I would appreciate if you left me to say my final respects. Good NIGHT, sir."
Nick stated defiantly at Francis for a few seconds. "Fine, then. Take what you must, because my team will sweep the whole place by tonight. If you need me, just visit the station and ask for Nick Valentine."
He turned and strode out of the cellars.
OOCFAPNITRP: (OOC From A Person Not In This RolePlay.) Friendly revive!
OOC: Hmm, what can I do, what can I do...
BIC:
Francis Alhazared had shut the door to Hastur's office, and began scanning for more useful evidence. He didn't appreciate how Valentine was so self-important; Hastur was his own brother, so he would deal with it personally. He pulled open the desk drawer and reached around, eventually finding something strange. A case file...
He sat down on a ruined couch and began studying it.
OOC: So since Batlord is AWOL, we'll just have to ignore Paranine for now.
BIC: Nick knocked on the door for the Calchas, the family who suffered the same incident that he young otterbabe had at the pond. The dormitory door creaked open to reveal an older squirrel, male. Probably the father. "Can I help you?" he said creakily. "Yes," nodded Nick. "I'm with the police, investigating the disappearance at the pond."
Shock overcame the squirrel's face. "Uh, you must have the wrong door. Maybe the next one?"
He tried shutting the door, but it was light and Nick's strong paw caught it easily. "Not so fast. Let me in, and I won't cause trouble."
OOC: Lulz, is the squirrel a cultist or something? :p
OOC: Nope. Look at my previous posts for an answer.