Chapter One: Something New
The night is dark, quiet. The air is still, and fog lies in the streets as a heavy blanket, muffling all. There is still movement--those who fear the day crawl from their hiding places, rise from the sewers, and hunt for those unfortunate few who find themselves out in the cold.
Yet tonight, something gathers. Small humanoid creatures, under the cover of darkness, skulk and congregate in a central square. Sylvan whispers between them, and the rats stop to listen. They assemble at the base of a monolithic building, its face lit up from afar.
BONG
The note carries throughout the city, unfettered. A prime utterance against the night. It chimes again, and again. Three, four, five... each note resolute, a herald of the passage of time, unchanging, unstoppable. The diminutive throng waits anxiously. Ten, eleven, twelve.
The Clock Tower of Paridon.
Flash! The city square bursts forth with color!
Lights and sound peal forth from the crowd, gay music, fireworks, and hundreds of balls of light appear and float above the heads of the gnomes filling the plaza with celebration. They dance and sing, and banish the darkness in their small enclave for the moment.
Yet two have pulled away from the celebrations. A young man and woman, still adolescents, move out of sight of the others, and sneak into the clock tower itself. She seems to know the way, carefully climbing up the stairs, up the gears, timing their ascent to the great sound of the clock's action. Before the face of the clock, gazing at the pair of them like a giant moon, the two laugh, play, and embrace. He tells her to stop, and wait. He grabs hold of a chain and rises higher, higher, higher with every second. As he climbs, he fixes his gaze on her. He smiles. He speaks.
She screams.
The Central Barracks of Paridon.
You awake, barely dawn, to the sound of a knock on your door. The constabulary is there, waiting with a carriage. Your presence is immediately requested. You complete your morning rituals, and arrive at the Central Barracks.
Captain of the Investigators, Gis, an aged, wiry yet spry man, waits for you as your carriages arrive.
"Yes, yes, good, you've all arrived. So sorry to wake you so early, but a case came through last night and we needed your presence as soon as possible. Please, come with me."
You are taken down the hall to a small room. In the room, a large crystal glows blue, mist curling off it, condensing out of the air. This room is used to hold the dead. For those who might wish to see the dead, the crystal keeps the room at its chilly temperature. For those who might wish to see the living, the locks on the door are stout. On a slab in the center of the room, lies an unmoving corpse of a very small person, probably only about three feet high when alive--but who is now missing his head. His clothing is drenched in blood, darkening a tweed vest, white tunic, green leggings, and silver chain from which a pocket watch--now smashed--hangs.
"He was found hanging in the Clock Tower," Gis explains.
"No one was able to identify him, but we believe he was a gnome. They're holding their New Year festivities right now, and most of the community was out celebrating last night. Usually we would leave the body at the scene under guard, but it was at risk of being crushed between the teeth of two gears. We have been unable to find the head."
[sblock=ooc]
Thanks to
Manolis Kellis for the wonderful pictures available online.
Also, thanks to the city of Prague for just being so cool.
P.S. My prose will probably not remain so purple.
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