The city of Alysa was experiencing a chilly start to November. Nalen and Noémi were enjoying a companionable silence in the Warden's office.
The office's roof slanted gently downward. It gave it a profoundly artistic, modern feel. Custom-built windows mimicked the angle of the roof. They sometimes reminded Noémi of daggers or war-blades pointed up to the air.
"Noémi, I recently heard some complaints from the prisoners in the Solitary ward."
"What were the complaints, ma'am?" Noémi responded in her accented drawl. Her eyes seemed almost half-open. It wasn't exhaustion. It was merely the relaxed atmosphere of a city that was, relatively speaking, at peace. It had infected them both. Nalen was never a complacent woman, but Noémi had known her long enough to recognize that the Warden *needed* to be challenged.
"That's just the problem," responded Nalen.
"What was that, Warden Kara?" Noémi shook her eyes back to wakefulness.
"It was that I could **hear** them at all. Solitary should mean isolation in many ways. I think that they should hardly be able to voice their concerns if they're isolated. Right now, Prisoner 150A is out of her cell for rehabilitation, and Prisoner 133H is being checked in. I think we should adjust the isolation uniform."
"Certainly," said Noémi with a growing energy. "How so?"
"[[I'm thinking more sensory deprivation.]]"
"[[I"m thinking they need to be quiet. More charms, a better gag.]]""Very good, ma'am."
Noémi began drawing up plans as dictated by the Warden. They were devious - after all, Alysa Prison wasn't called **The Devil's Gullet** for nothing!
To help demonstrate, (link: 'Inmate 150h')[the prisoner and escape artist formerly known as Alicia] was brought to the office as a dressing dummy.
She quivered in place. The inmate still wore the thick canvas straitjacket. She was thoroughly secured to the chair in Nalen's office. Most wouldn't notice the small D-rings implanted in its darkwood frame. Being able to restrain anyone, anytime was a feature that Nalen had made certain of when rennovating the prison.
Her bare legs were each chained with heavy leg irons and wide metal clamps around her ankles. They had in turn been locked to the legs of the chair. Every time she wiggled her toes or arched her feet, there was a pleasant jingling of inescapable chains.
Her straitjacket must have been a size too small. Either that, or Nalen had chosen it and as thus it was *perfectly* sized. Noémi noticed that her arms were tucked just below her chest, and that the design seemed to push up the poor inmate's breasts. A small zipper allowed access to the inmate's cleavage, if needbe. Nalen had definitely used that small gap as a drink-holder. There was nothing quite so fun as watching a prisoner jiggle and wriggle against the icy chill of a drink sitting between their breasts.
Dozens of straps were taut against the inmate's flesh. She panted, and a tiny droplet of sweat dripped from her forehead. Leather bands wrapped around her upper torso. They kept her biceps very snug against her body, and they went forward over her bust. It squeezed and compressed and kept her boobs very tightly packed together!
[[The Warden demonstrated her fix.]]"Very good, ma'am."
Noémi began drawing up plans as dictated by the Warden. They were devious - after all, Alysa Prison wasn't called **The Devil's Gullet** for nothing!
To help demonstrate, (link: 'Inmate 505A')[the young, pink-haired bandit (now prisoner) named Jaina] was brought to the office as a dressing dummy.
She quivered in place. The inmate still wore the thick canvas straitjacket. She was thoroughly secured to the chair in Nalen's office. Most wouldn't notice the small D-rings implanted in its darkwood frame. Being able to restrain anyone, anytime was a feature that Nalen had made certain of when rennovating the prison.
Her bare legs were each chained with heavy leg irons and wide metal clamps around her ankles. They had in turn been locked to the legs of the chair. Every time she wiggled her toes or arched her feet, there was a pleasant jingling of inescapable chains.
Her straitjacket must have been a size too small. Either that, or Nalen had chosen it and as thus it was *perfectly* sized. Noémi noticed that her arms were tucked just below her chest, and that the design seemed to push up the poor inmate's breasts. A small zipper allowed access to the inmate's cleavage, if needbe. Nalen had definitely used that small gap as a drink-holder. There was nothing quite so fun as watching a prisoner jiggle and wriggle against the icy chill of a drink sitting between their breasts.
Dozens of straps were taut against the inmate's flesh. She panted, and a tiny droplet of sweat dripped from her forehead. Leather bands wrapped around her upper torso. They kept her biceps very snug against her body, and they went forward over her bust. It squeezed and compressed and kept her boobs very tightly packed together!
[[The Warden demonstrated her fix.|fixalt]]"Observe."
Nalen removed the gag from the prisoner. For a moment, Alicia tried to speak but Nalen simply shook her head. "Now's not the time to be chatty, inmate. Be good, and we'll think about your parole next month."
She leaned in close. After wiping off her captive 'dummy' with a soft white handerchief, she pressed a pair of fluffy cotton wads against her eyes. A long leather blindfold then went over her head, locking behind with a simple buckle.
The gag was switched to be a boned posture collar and 'mouth corset.' It had the appearance of a waist corset - attractive reddish-brown and polished leather - but it went from the top of her shoulders to the prisoner's mouth! An internal plug gave her something to chew on as it was buckled in place and locked with three tiny metal padlocks. She couldn't turn her head left or right... not that there was anything to see.
Warden Kara finished by placing a pair of earplugs in her captive's ears. She was soft and gentle, spreading Direbeeswax over hear ears. The captive audible groaned at the warm sensation. In a few seconds, the wax hardened - ensuring a nice seal and removing all sound!
She nodded. A final hood was pulled over the inmate's eyes and head, crushing the gag tight against her lips and squeezing her entire head into a delectably snug vise. Comfy, contained, and kept intact by glyphs on her collar, she could be safely returned to solitary for quite some time.
Just as the guards were escorting Alicia out, [[Elijah sprinted in.]]Jaina grunted. She almost swore, but she knew better - her sentence had already been extended *twice* thanks to insubordination. She didn't want to to be longer still.
Nalen gently parted her captive's lips. She ran a finger over her mouth, making the pink-haired pickpocket blush a bright red. She carefully and gently cleaneed off her captive's face with a wet washcloth.
When suitably prepared, she dove in the gagging process with gusto. Two wadded up handerchiefs went between her lips, forcing her jaw wide. She threw in another for good measure, gagging her quite heavily and making her cheeks bulge out with a heavy packing!
Innumerable layers covered the bandit-come-prisoner's mouth. First a wide layer of super-sticky tape around her lips. Then came gauze bandages, which went around her entire lower face, winding across her lips and tightening around her neck.
A pair of enchanted noseplugs were popped into Jaina's nostrils. She could breathe, but the sensation of being so thoroughly silenced was infuriating!
Still, she remained quiet. If not calm, she was at least demure. Nalen took a bright pink scarf over her mouth, then another green one over her mouth and nose. *Another* layer of bandages blindfolded her before Nalen taped them on tight.
The end result was that Nalen had very effectively quieted her prisoner. The sounds were barely audible mewls and moans. Excellent, excellent, **excellent**.
She fitted a nice sack over her captive's head. She looked appropriately reduced and humiliated, and ordered the guards to return her to her cell.
Just as the silenced and hooded Jaina was brought away, [[Elijah sprinted in.]] "Elijah?" Nalen stood up from her desk chair and leaned forward on her desk. Her hair bobbed with the sudden motion. "What's wrong?"
"My sister **Mary**! She's - she's been arrested."
Nalen nodded him over to take a seat next to Noémi at Nalen's desk. "Please. Explain yourself."
“My sister recently took a new job at the Alysa City Exhibitionary,” said Elijah. "I can’t believe it. She was all set to start tomorrow morning - **tomorrow morning!** - and now she’s sitting in a jail cell.”
Nalen patted her subordinate on the shoulder. “There’s no need for such stress, Elijah. Alysa Prison is my responsibility, but we can pull a few strings. Perhaps we can have her relegated to house arrest, or at least make her time in my care *comfortable*.”
Elijah shook his head. His lion-like mane flapped through the air. “No, ma’am. It’s murder - murder of her former employer.”
Nalen sat down and leaned forward on her desk. For a moment, they all sat in companionable silence. She stroked her chin with gloved fingers. “That’s rather serious, Elijah. She worked for a doctor, didn’t she? Near a park somewhere?”
“Correct,” he said. “Her last day with **Doctor Krouse** was on Friday, but she went in this morning to pick up some of her belongings and found the door unlocked. When she poked in, Doctor Krouse was dead on the ground, foaming at the mouth! His office was completely upturned.”
“I don’t understand,” said Noémi. [[“What did she do wrong?”]]
Elijah muttered. “She raised the alarm,” he said. “They think she’s hiding something and they arrested her. They're lazy or corrupt or maybe both."
Nalen gripped her fist tight. The squeezing of her leather gloves into a clenched fist was quite audible.
"It might be the latter. As you know, the previous Warden, Franceska Tremaine, had quite a few allies throughout the city's guards. I'd guess that the arrest of your sister was a jab at **me.** They implicate one of my aides to discredit my administration. I'm deeply sorry, Elijah."
Nalen stood up and began pacing through the room. If she defended a woman who was guilty, or failed to defend her, then her honor would be besmirched. Not to mention the (link: 'Similar Censure Laws.')[various laws against such an intervention. If she, as an official, tried to defend someone who was guilty, then she could be censured, punished, or even given the same punishment as the guilty party!]
"Are you certain that she's innocent?"
Elijah nodded. "Her last day was Friday. Yesterday we spent all day together at the Exhibitionary. Mondays, you see, are family days. We were there until the museum closed."
Noémi spoke up. "You've got a meeting with Lady Elvina tomorrow morning to discuss renovating her dungeons. You'll only have tonight to prove her innocence."
Nalen went silent. So did Elijah.
After a few pregnant seconds, Nalen slapped her hand on her subordinate's shoulder.
"Now, where was Doctor Krouse's surgery?"
Everyone in the room could hear that eager tone. "Green Street, right next to Gramercy Park."
Nalen and her assistants didn't need to say a thing. They were grinning, determined, and walking out the door [[into the cool morning air.]]Noémi stared out the window. A clock tower indicated that it was three-quarters past eleven.
"Elijah, has anyone been assigned to investigate the case?"
"Yes ma'am," said the maned man, "Magistrate Swick."
The Warden rolled her eyes. That meant it would be a race. Swick lacked the talent for investigation, but he made up for it with tenacity. If he finished his investigation first, then *his* word would be law... and both Nalen and Mary would be in deep trouble.
[[That meant she needed to solve the case first... and be right.]][[The Offices of Doctor Krouse]]
[[Gramercy Park]]
[[The Exhibitionary]]
[[City Watch Station]]
[[The Imperial Club]]
[[Carriage Stop]]
[[Newspaper Archives]]
[[Alysa City Prison (The Devil's Gullet)]]
(if: $baker is 'open')[
[[Bakery]]]
(if: $tailor is 'open')[
[[Tailor|Tailor's]]]
(if: $ironmonger is 'open')[
[[Ironmonger's]]]
(if: $usher is 'open')[
[[Alysa Conservatory]]]
(if: $panoply is 'open')[
[[Antique Panoply]]]
(if: $pharmacy is 'open')[
[[Bloom Street Pharmacy]]]
(if: $pub is 'open')[
[[The Ribcage Tavern & Restaurant]]]
(if: $banker is 'open')[
[[Bank]]]Nalen spoke for a few minutes with a group that, despite their unusual appearance, was absolutely, positively a gang.
"The Scholars" wore a strange parody of clerical garb. They might be mistaken for academics from a distance. They had the trappings, to be certain; spectacles, breeches and socks, brocade jackets, tubes filled with scrolls. But a closer inspection revealed it to be a costume. The Scholars were information-brokers, not men of learning.
A woman named Mirage sat with a dozen or so other Scholars, idling in the park. One of them was pontificating in the style of a university professor, though the topic was how to properly destroy the competition for control of the Legal District.
The Warden traded information for information. After a few minutes, she returned to Noémi.
“We are lucky. One of the Scholars sells gossip near the doctor’s surgery and he clearly remembers Krause's visitors from yesterday morning. What do you think of that?" asked Nalen with a grin.
"There were three visitors; the first, a man who smoked a pipe; the second, a man wearing a hat who walked with a limp; and the third was also a man. The last had a goatee and was carrying a briefcase."
"Any women?" asked Noémi.
"Their leader doesn’t remember seeing any women. She also told me that
Doctor Krause was a regular at the Ribcage pub and that Fadima Crastin often strolls in Hyde Park with a mauve parasol."
"Curious," said Noémi. [[Back to work.|map]]
(set: $pub to 'open')
(set: $baker to 'open') Nalen didn't waste any time. She bypassed security and marched directly to the director's office. It helped that she'd tracked down a notorious bank-robber the year prior.
The group learned that Krouse had withdrawn sums of cash continuously in recent months.
(if: $office is 'visited')[The manager also disclosed that Christopher Cutler had recently requested an unusually large loan for someone in his
position.]
[[Nalen thanked the manager and left.|map]] It was normal for cities to value their history and heritage. To make a large building open to the public (for a nominal fee) was, however, quite unusual. The Grand Exhibitionary was to be an alternative to drink or crime; a place where families could spend their precious hours off of work in sophisticated and educated grandeur.
Curator Anabel wore a teacher's outfit so revealing that Nalen suspected she was herself an 'exhibit.'
"Mary was due to start working at the museum as a receptionist on Wednesday of this week," said Anabel. "Indeed, she spent all day yesterday here. It was a real treat having her come by; on Mondays we have curators give tours, you see, and she was a fantastic listener."
"Interesting," said Nalen. She crossed her arms and stared at a rather grim piece of Orcish 'artwork.' Hardly the sort of thing she'd want in her office, much less shown off to the public.
"Did Mary ever mention her previous job?"
"Oh yes," said Anabel, buttoning and unbuttoning her blouse. "There were fewere and fewer patients coming in to Doctor So-And-So's business, and he'd even missed her last few pay packages."
"Thank you," said Nalen. She tipped the museum a silver coin [[as she left|map]]. Nalen was examining the corpse of the doctor in the morgue when she was interrupted by none other than Magistrate Swick. He was a blocky man, wikth a square jaw, square head, and stocky figure. He wasn't so dumb as to withhold evidence to a noblewoman like Nalen... but he certainly wasn't happy about the intrusion. Nalen was busy examining Krause's possessions while Noémi looked over the body.
"Traces of foam around the mouth. Bruising on the hands. According to the physicians, Krouse had died of poisoning on Monday morning."
"Mary is sticking strictly to her statement," said Elijah with a raised eyebrow.
"Eh." Swick shrugged. "She might have an alibi for Monday but she could have left the poison in a pot of tea or any other food the previous
week. We know for sure that her relationship with the doctor was far from good. And the fact that she called the police is meaningless: she probably did it to divert suspicion.”
“Perhaps,” said Nalen. She turned to Swick with Krause's clothes in her hands. “But then what do you say about this little red stain on the shirt that corresponds *exactly* with this fine puncture wound on the corpse’s chest?”
(set: $pharmacy to 'open')
Swick was silent [[as the crew left.|map]] Fadima Crastin served us pleasantly from behind the counter. A mauve ribbon held her short but gorgeous black hair from her face. Nalen had Elijah ask her a few questions about Monday morning, which he did as soon as the room was empty.
“I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday morning for a cold, but after the weekend I felt better and so I didn’t go in the end. I spent the whole day working here, both the owner and the regulars can confirm that.”
“Thank you very much Miss. We may have to return for
further questioning.”
Nalen and Noémi ribbed Elijah on the way out.
"You're blushing," said Noémi.
"Think you're going to have to ask her some more questions?" said Nalen with a chuckle.
Elijah ruffled his mane as the trio [[re-entered the carriage.|map]] The only Edwards tailor was across Alysa in the east of the city, located in the Erilar neighborhood.
“Don’t you think that the doctor office next to Gramercy Park is... rather far from here?” asked Noémi. Nalen looked contemplative.
Upon entering the establishment, Nalen was confronted by a tall, stocky man of about 25 summers. He had blonde hair and a thin beard, and was busy trying to fruitlessly thread a needle.
“We’re looking for Mr Edwards, owner of the tailor’s, if you
would be so kind,” asked Nalen in her most professional tone.
“That would be me, ma'am. What can I do for you?”
“Is there no one else who works with you here?” repeated Nalen.
“My father died three years ago and since then, only my mother and I manage the business.”
The bell above the door signaled Nalen's exit before Noémi even realized [[she was gone.|map]] Christopher Cutler had thick sideburns, an old-fashioned goatee and a prominent belly. A lit pipe rested on his desk and several hats - in Noémi's vocal opinion opinion inappropriate for his age - hung on a nearby coat stand.
The trio passed as browsing customers. Nalen got him talking by inquiring if an 'iron maiden' sans the spikes could be fashioned to properly encase dangerous fugitives.
After some small talk, she managed to get out of him that he was
single, that business was not going very well, and that an elderly relative had died just a few months earlier.
“The old man was very ill. I had to inject him with alchemical reagents daily,” he explained. Nalen nodded.
Cutler's eyes went wide and he began to gossip. “The doctor who treated him has been murdered. Have you heard? I actually went on Monday morning to pay the bill for the medication. If I had only waited a day, I would have saved that money ...”
The trio had no doubt that the ironmonger was a pragmatic man. Elijah politely found an [[excuse for them to leave|map]] after Nalen placed a small order for manacles. The Warden and her retinue arrived at an inopportune time. The Conservatory was preparing for a concert and Antoine Mose-Callet, as head of the ushers, was frantically polishing everywhere.
As they spoke with him in the stalls, he did not stop playing with his large moustache which lay neatly on his shaven face.
“I twisted my ankle at the weekend and so I went to the doctor on Monday. He said it was not serious, but I haven’t been able to rest it as I am always on my feet in this job and it hurts to walk."
"Nasty," said Elijah.
"Indeed. Fortunately, my wife and daughter take good care of me at home..." Antoine grinned.
"...and in return, I read aloud the mystery stories from the pulp magazines. They're all great fun. I really enjoyed WitchQuest, but that one's a bit risque to read aloud."
[[Nalen left just as the show began.|map]] It was getting late when the trio saw the dealer leaving the building where he had his business and his home, near Gramercy Park. They introduced themselves and politely exchanged pleasantries. He provided his name: Bartholomew Cross.
Yet beyond that, he didn't seem interested in talking about the past. Nalen ribbed him, Noémi tried her charm, and Elijah gave him a good stare. It wasn't enough.
“I do not want to discuss what happened; the coroner said what he needed to say." He looked angry, form tight lips below his neat goatee. "You'll forgive me. I don't have much faith in the city's legal system."
“If I may, I would like to enjoy my walk in Hyde Park; I did this for twenty years with my wife and although now I have to do it alone, I will continue to do so while I can still walk.”
That said, he adjusted a bowler hat, waved and walked away, muttering unintelligibly. Elijah shrugged as he [[waved down a carriage.|map]] After inquiring in a few pharmacies in the area, the Warden found one on Bloom Street which had recently sold a particularly poisonous substance. The pharmacist said he remembered the customer was a man with a goatee.
“He was here yesterday morning, eh. The gentlesir said it was for a plague of mice that he had in his house. I think when he left I saw him stop a passing carriage."
"Your memory seems quite astute for someone who deals with dangerous substances for a living," said Nalen. She crossed her arms.
"Oh yes. I remember that gentleman well, not only because strychnine is a drug that we hardly sell, but also because he bought a full doctor’s
medical kit. A good sale!”
"Strychnine is a strong and dangerous substance," said Noémi. "Anyone near it would have smelt it. This isn't a case of careful, subtle poisoning."
"Thank you for the reminder, Noémi," said [[Nalen as she exited the pharmacy.|map]]An exotic showing of some thoroughly impressive magic graced the halls of the Imperial Club. The trio stared at a heavily bound and thoroughly helpless volunteers. They were being ministered to be a dark elf wearing a curious nun's habit. The Imperial Club was, if nothing else, a source of novelty and exotic delights.
The elf had summoned magical bindings to conceal and restrain her partners Strips of leather had sewn themselves shut. There was no needle nor thread ; only the split fibers of a single magical rope that the elven magician Ayli turned into sublime restraints.
The now strictly-bound performers were without a doubt aware of the crowd, but helpless to do anything about it. Their mouths were thickly packed and covered in bandanas - much the same as their eyes and ears, which had each been ensconced with tiny wads of cotton. The patchwork leather hoods that covered their faces kept it all together - custom fit on the spot and arcing over their faces with all the grace of a masterful leatherworker.
Ayli's magically-animated rope had been inventive, using other mundane scraps in the club to create an elaborate series of restraints - long straps from bits of leather, a spreader bar from a curtain-rod... some of the coins left as a gratuity had been used to cover the dignity of one of the performers!
When all was said and done, Ayli bowed. The performers had the same restraints blessed upon them; webbed to a bed, legs spread and face hooded, with each arm comfortably kept locked to her sides under an unyielding harness of enchanted rope and improvised, if mundane restraints. The nun sighed; she had been spending quite a bit of energy on these strange restraints and techniques, and she was exhausted. Yet there was a grin in her face. She was clearly very pleased with the results. She had every right to be. The crowd applauded politely.
Elijah was blushing. Noémi bit her lip. Nalen seemed impassive.
"Why did we come here again?" asked Noémi. She was *fairly* certain that this particular venture was a waste of time.
"Why not?" said Nalen. "I wanted to see this showing for a while. Maybe teach some techniques to our guards."
[[The show ended, and the trio got back to work on the case.|map]]
The blue-haired driver spoke with a foreign-yet-similar accent.
“Passengers on Monday? Hmm... Monday morning I picked up a man in a bowler hat at the pharmacy on Bloom Street. He was a thin, short man. He was carrying a briefcase that shone like new and which he was messing with during the ride to Park Lane, where I left him. If I recall, I asked him if he would like to put it in the trunk, but he said it contained sensitive
chemicals which he used for dying clothes. I remember the chap well because he seemed very nervous. Poor chap even dropped his money when he paid me.”
The crew thanked her, paying her an extra coin for a ride to their [[next destination.|map]]
(set: $pharmacy to 'open') After a full-scale search amongst reams of newspapers, Noémi found a piece of relevant news. It had stuck wit her, and she'd suggested it to Warden Kaya that the group investigate it.
Warden Kaya, never one to back down, had dove headfirst into the stacks and reams of old newsprint. An hour later, the stubborn Nalen had found the article. About two months ago, John Krouse had been accused of medical malpractice for the death of Mrs. Rosaline Marie Cross, wife of the antiques dealer Bartholomew Cross. It had happened during a dangerous operation, no less.
An article published shortly afterwards declared that he had been cleared of malpractice, and therefore the honourable doctor had been absolved of all culpability.
Nalen walked over to where Noémi sat with a listing of long-forgotten guard reports.
"An incident at a betting parlor... several men involved in a fight... unpaid debts... one of those involved was Doctor Krouse of Park Lane."
[[Noémi grabbed the article as Nalen began to pack up.|map]]
(set: $panoply to 'open') Jaina's pink-dyed hair, scarred hands, and wicked grin told the Warden that she was more masculine than every bar-maid and half the bar-men in town. She was utterly without pretense, speaking with an urban accent that softened consontants into mush.
"Krouse was a regular here, he was. Lately he was coming by daily and never leaving sober. He didn't live more than a skip away. Just across Gramercy Park, he lived. Always needed a carriage to drive him home though, poor bugger."
Nalen stared out the window and spoke without ever looking at the barkeep. "What about recently?"
"Recently," said Jaina, "he was getting pretty stingy. Tips weren't great, oh no they weren't. This week he didn't even have enough dosh to buy take a carriage so he left on foot, staggering through the park."
[[The Warden left before anyone offered her a drink.|map]]
(set: $panoply to 'open')Are you ready to solve the mystery?
[[I'm ready.]]
[[No. I want a few more clues.|map]]The body of the late Doctor had been removed to the City Watch station nearby. The floor was covered in papers and books.
The desk held old licensures and notes. Nalen moved through it all. It was strange moving through a man's life, splayed out across the ground and walls of his office. The appointment book caught her eye.
(font: 'Courgette')[
9AM - Christopher Cutler, ironmonger
10 - Antoine Mose-Calle, usher at the Royal Conservatory
11:00 - Edwards, personal tailor
12:00 - Fadima Crastin, local baker.
]
No subsequent appointments had been noted.
Nalen's eyebrows were raised when she flipped to the end of the appointment book. On a hunch, she shook it, and out poured a sizeable sum of banknotes tucked and hidden in the back.
[[Things were coming together.|map]]Okay, figure out triggers.
Every time you visit somewhere, tick up an hour.
Do some $number passages at the start, indicating the time and weather.
replace stuff so the 'map' passage is JUST the locations.
Comment about 'time being money'.
TIME: check the books to see how long you have and how many you really do need.
ENDINGS:
0. See the sister all tied up.
0.5 - two passages based on the triggers.
1. Enough time, right answer: released, bring in the real killer. Get a good long scene.
2. Not enough time, right answer: released, but Nalen soon falls prey to bandits at the end of the story and is boxed up for later!
3. Enough time, wrong answer: gets it wrong, and ends up with Nalen sharing her fate in the stocks!
Not enough time, wrong answer: you don't even get a bondage scene when Elijah knocks out the boss and runs off. That's a story for another day...Alysa was a big city. Carriage was the easiest way to get from place to place, though they were all happy to walk on foot if needed.
*Jewel of the Empire,* thought Nalen. *My city*.
There was a brief moment of introspection; a fear that she'd volunteered her time too hastily. Elijah's bushy grin threw all such doubts to the wind.
[["Where to?" asked the carriage-driver.|map]]
**Nalen promised that she wouldn't be back *without* a solution to the case.**Nalen met with Magistrate Swick to plead Mary's innocence. Elijah stood outside, waiting inside the carriage for news of his sister. Meanwhile, Noémi and Nalen entered.
Noémi was always impressed by her boss. The Warden had a spring in her step. Something about the tall riding boots and tight pants just screamed confidence. She wasn't just dominant; she was, in her own way, *sexy*. She was completely aware of her abilities and poise, and she knew it. That, in its own way, had an aura of intimidation. You knew who she was, she knew who she was... and you didn't want to cross her.
Nalen still held the door open for Noémi.
(font: 'open sans')[Time to close the case!
There are three main questions to solve. If you get them all right, then Nalen is successful! If you get any wrong, well, there's been a complication.
[[I'm ready!]]]"All right," said Swick, "first question: how exactly did Krouse die?"
[[He was poisoned...|1poisoned]]
[[He was strangled...|1strangled]]
[[He was stabbed to death with a parasol...|1parasol]]
It was clear that it was Cross. Cross fit the description of the man who bought the strychnine, for one. For two, he took a cab to park lane and visited the doctor.
te
"why kill him now?" asked Elijah.
"the trigger... he's had money problems lately. after his last visit to the pub he had to walk home. and where? the same park where Cross works every night.
So, you see, Cross saw the Doctor drunk and it convinced him to take action. He no doubt believed that the love for drink led in part to the death of Madame Cross two years ago."
"Of course," said Elijah.
"of course. an alcoholic should not be practicing medicine, let alone surgery!"
"Cross made an appointment with the Doctor on Monday under the false name of john edwards on the same monday he boght poison and kit with needles at the pharmacy. Under the guise of a patient, he was able to get in without difficulty. Then, since the 12 noon patient didn't show, miss craig found him. "
IF YOU ESCAPE, then you get nabbed when presenting it to Swick.
[[wakeupbound]]Tied up! Escape with puzzle.
The end! bound in a cell.When walking out, they get into the wrong carriage. Gags over their face, wrists bound, tightly tied.
Another adventure. (set: $method to 'poisoned')
"That sounds plausible... but [[who was the culprit]]?"(set: $method to 'strangled')
"That sounds plausible... but [[who was the culprit]]?"(set: $method to 'parasol')
"That sounds plausible... but [[who was the culprit]]?""Well, obviously, it was..."
[[The antiquarian Bartholomew Cross]]
[[The tailor John Edwards]]
[[The disgraced warden Franceska Tremaine]]Swick raised an eyebrow. "You're losing me, but [[please continue]], Nalen."
(set: $killer to 'Cross')Swick raised an eyebrow. "You're losing me, but [[please continue]], Nalen."
(set: $killer to 'Edwards')Swick raised an eyebrow. "You're losing me, but [[please continue]], Nalen."
(set: $killer to 'Tremaine')"And finally, what was the motive for the killing?"
Nalen grinned. She was going to bring it all together.
[[He was killed for money; he had unpaid debts and his murderer wanted to send a message.]]
[[He was murdered for malpractice - the death of a previous patient.]]
[[He committed suicide; his business was failing and he was too ashamed to close it.]]
[[He was killed to frame Mary.]]This time, Magistrate Swick [[said nothing]].
(set: $motive to 'money')This time, Magistrate Swick [[said nothing]].
(set: $motive to 'malpractice')This time, Magistrate Swick [[said nothing]].
(set: $motive to 'suicide')Nalen went for the killing blow. She circled around magister Swick like a shark about to bite. And bite she was - Nalen laid it all out on the table for the contemptible old dotor. She raised her voice. It never became shrill, but it had a commanding air that meant it could be heard through the wooden door into the city watch offices.
"Our victim, without a doubt, is one Doctor John Krouse. Our accused murderer is Mary, a slight and small woman with little to no motivte to kill him. Of this we can be certain. Now, how was he killed, you ask? Was it Elijah's sister? Of course not.
(if: $method is 'strangled')[John Krouse was strangled by a pair of strong hands. He was killed by someone with hate, and the strength to kill!]
(if: $method is 'parasol')[The late doctor was killed by stabbing. A woman's parasol penetrated his heart and killed him, and it was made to look like Mary had committed the foul murder.]
(if: $method is 'poisoned')[The doctor was killed by something you might find in his lab - injected by a lethal poison. Strychnine might be found in a doctor's office, though, so nobody realized that it was the murder method.]
As for the motive - it's a simple one. No need to be ashamed if you didn't quite get it. I just deal with *so* many criminals, I think that I... understand them.
(if: $motive is 'money')[The reason for such an elaborate death is quite simple - to send a warning. Our killer was fed up with being short-changed, and murdered the doctor to send a warning to other debtors.]
(if: $motive is 'malpractice')[The doctor had taken to drink recently, and our killer saw him stumbling through the park. Clearly, the association between Krouse and alcohol was too much; the killer, still smarting from the loss of his wife, decided that he'd take revenge for a medical accident that occurred two years prior.]
(if: $motive is 'suicide')[He took his own life, though. I understand that, but I wish it wasn't so. The doctor simply decided he couldn't bear his shame any longer, and fell on his needle - so to speak.]
(if: $motive is 'framed')[He was, of course, killed solely to frame Mary. Like I said - criminal minds.]
And finally, you ask who did it? The answer should be staring you in the face.
(if: $killer is 'Edwards')[Edwards, the tailor, did it for filial piety. Shouldn't be too difficult to understand, really.]
(if: $killer is 'Tremaine')[The former warden hired one of her lackeys to do the deed - doubtless to discredit me.]
(if: $killer is 'Cross')[The antiquarian did it out of love for his wife... and hatred for her killer. I won't justify what he did, but it should be clear why it happened.]"
[[The investigator stood silent, staring at Nalen.]]This time, Magistrate Swick [[said nothing]].
(set: $motive to 'framed')(if: $killer is 'Cross' and $motive is 'malpractice' and $method is 'poisoned')[The magistrate nodded. "I agree with your conclusions."
"I'm glad," said Nalen. "It was clear to me from the start. Cross fit the description of the man who bought the strychnine, for one. For two, he took a cab to park lane and visited the doctor.
"Why kill him now?" asked Swick."
"The trigger was drink, I'm afraid. The Doctor has had money problems lately. After his last visit to the pub he had to walk home. and where? the same park where Cross works every night.
So, you see, Cross saw the Doctor drunk and it convinced him to take action. He no doubt believed that the love for drink led in part to the death of Madame Cross two years ago."
"Of course," said Swick. "An alcoholic should not be practicing medicine, let alone surgery!"
"Cross made an appointment with the Doctor on Monday under the false name of john edwards on the same monday he boght poison and kit with needles at the pharmacy. Under the guise of a patient, he was able to get in without difficulty. Then, since the 12 noon patient didn't show, Mary, sister to Eijah found him."
[[The case was closed.]]]
(else:)[
Nalen grinned as she delivered her answer.
Swick did not.
"Miss Kaya, I do believe that you're wrong. In fact, I think you're way off."
Nalen's face didn't change.
"I'm afraid that we're going to have to discuss this with the higher-ups. It's rather improper for the Warden of a prison to get involved in criminal matters. Not to mention when she's *dead wrong*."
[[Nalen gulped.]] This wasn't good.](font: 'Open Sans')[
*A short while later...*]
There weren't many people out on a gloomy November evening. The trees that lined the office of the Alysa City Magistrates was built into the City Watch station, and was only a short walk from the largest penitentiary in the city - one affectionaly known as "The Devil's Gullet." It was not a place for pedestrians, and only a few carriages waited outside.
Besides, it was Autumn; a time for decay and chills. Yet there was still life and love in the air.
Elijah ran from the carriage to meet Mary. They embraced and she planted a pleasant, sisterly kiss on his cheek.
"My hero," she said with a laugh. "I knew my brother wouldn't let me down!"
Elijah grinned. "Well, it was hardly all my doing."
Noémi caught up with the two of them. She didn't interrupt their affectionate and filial embrace.
Elijah grinned at her. "There's one of your saviors now!"
Noémi blushed slightly. "I'm no hero. I'm just glad that justice could be served. Punishing and teasing a criminal is one thing. The law, I have been told, is tantamount and violations should be duly reciprocated. But such justice is nothing if not meted out fairly."
Elijah and Noémi shook hands. "Even if you weren't my partner, I could never forgive myself if I let an innocent end up in Nalen's prison."
The trio laughed. "Speaking of whom," said Mary, "where is she? I need to invite her to the royal exhibitionary! The museum could benefit from a noble scion like her visiting."
All three of them stopped. They looked around, peering into the dark. Far away, at the other end of the building, Elijah saw Nalen stepping into a carriage, escorted by Magister Swick. They exchanged some heated words, and Swick - clearly defeated - closed the door.
"Nalen! Warden!" shouted Noémi. "That - that's not your carriage! Over here!"
She didn't hear them. The door was already closed. But the Magistrated did. He spent a second to stare at the trio, sending a malevolent grin their way before returning to the offices. A few seconds later, Noémi, Elijah, and Mary knew something was wrong.
Nalen, of course, knew something was wrong right away. The moment she stepped into the carriage, she noted that it was empty - rather than filled with smiling faces of her indebted employees.
And then, as the blindfold slipped over her eyes, she saw nothing at all. The Warden kicked and bucked as the carriage came to life. A fat wad of handkerchiefs slipped past her lips, packing her jaw and soaking up her spittle and swearing. A wide band of sticky, gum-soaked tape wrapped around her lips three times. It created a pleasant bulge as she was heavily gagged before moving upwards to seal the blindfold in place as well!
The safety harnesses in the carriage sprung to life, instantly wrapping themselves around the Warden's squirming form.
The carriage bucked left and right as she struggled. Each motion became less and less forceful as she quickly tired herself out. The Warden's adventures and misadventures were never over. The squirming, blindfolded, and tightly gagged Warden disappeared into the night. But for this adventure, it was...
(font: 'Open Sans')[
[[THE END]]](font: 'Open Sans')[
*Some time later...*]
The heavy ball and chain around Nalen's leg was a nuisance. She wasn't going to be doing much walking in her cell.
Three stone walls and a row of iron bars; such was her new office. Nalen stewed and shifted. She was missing many of those elements that kept her confident and in charge. Her riding crop, her saber, and her coat were all hauled off to storage, which meant that she had nothing but her blouse and undergarments below that to cover her modesty!
With her hands cuffed above her head and chained the the ceiling, there wasn't much in the way of 'modesty' anyway. If anyone came by and decided to - horror upon horrors! - unbutton her blouse, or disrobe her, Nalen knew that she'd be absolutely, positively powerless. She blushed; she remembered a steamy romance novel that ended with a damsel-in-distress being cordially seduced while still bound in this very position.
*"Nnnngh!*" It was easy to push naughty thoughts from her mind when she took a half-second to remember her position. Aftering trying - and failing - to intercede on Mary's behalf, she'd found herself chained up in one of her own holding cells to await punisment.
The former warden felt a bead of sweat drip down her forehead and onto the floor. There were a few more droplets of saliva on the stone, the result of a *punishing* harness ball-gag. It kept her mouth open, and she could just barely adjust its position with her tongune and lips. In case she had any 'bright ideas' about pushing it out of her mouth, the three leather straps that bit against her chocolate-brown flesh would remind her that talking was *not* allowed.
Hot, bothered, and stringently bound, Nalen's eyes flashed when she saw a pair of guards approaching her cell. Between them was none other than Mary!
"'oi, Miss Kaya," said one of them. "Good news - Mary's been exonerated, though she's lost 'er job and whatnot. Bad news... the magistrate's sent us down here to check on you."
Nalen's eyes flashed left and right. She realized that there were prisoners - countless prisoners - staring at her. Prisoners that *she* had disciplined, tormented, teased, and tortured. Prisoners that stared at her with burning rage... or, for those that were blindfolded, eagerly giggled into their gags.
"Nnnnfh! Nnnngh!" *No! No, get away, you fools! Don't you know who I am!?* thought Nalen.
The guards got closer.
"Hmmmm..." said one. "She looks a bit panicked. How can we fix this?"
"Maybe some isolation? What about a nicer, bigger gag?"
The first guard grinned evilly. "Why not both?"
(font: 'Open Sans')[
[[THE END]]]<span style="font-size: 250%">(font: 'Open Sans')[**The Murdered Medico**]</span>
This story was written by (link: "Phantom")[(goto-url: "http://phantomdotexe.deviantart.com/")] and features characters by (link: "Skelebomb.")[(goto-url: "http://skelebomb.deviantart.com/")]
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<span style="font-size: 250%">(font: 'Open Sans')[**The Murdered Medico**]</span> was written by by (link: "Phantom")[(goto-url: "http://phantomdotexe.deviantart.com/")] and featured characters by (link: "Skelebomb.")[(goto-url: "http://skelebomb.deviantart.com/")]
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