Beacon and Dregs Archive

Grasping at Threads

Grasping at Threads – Written by EM Drosselmeyer

Captain Irina reviewed the material that the messenger had delivered her for the second time, and then went back to her notes and files that she had both on the case and those assisting. She crosschecked the sender and looked back to the author’s other recommendations, and sighed as she realized that unfortunately it looked like the information was correct. She quickly began penning a message to the Tokunese ambassador before she stopped herself. She grabbed up the discarded letter that she’d skimmed over before, and after checking it slammed it down. There was a good chance…it might work. She quickly shoved the papers and their ilk into the satchel and penned off a reply to the sender of the previous message, and sealed it up tightly before handing it to a messenger as she walked out the door. “Make sure it’s not intercepted. I’ll double your fee if it’s received tonight.” Turning to two of the guardsmen in the room she gestured for them to follow her as she donned her helmet and latched it to her gorget. “You two are with me. Let’s go.”

The Town Cryer shouted at the top of his lungs as he walked the streets of Zento and made the announcement he’d been given. “Hear ye, Hear ye. Her Majesty, the Empress of Tokuno, is to give her New Year’s Address to the citizens of Tokuno upon the first weekend of the New Year. The Empress shall address all the people of Tokuno and any of those who have made their homes here as expatriates of other lands, as well as any others who wish to attend. After her public address there shall be a lighting of fireworks and festivities, along with a large feast for one and all.”

The air was cold and silent as snow drifted softly around the small trio of guards. They weaved their way through the city streets of Britain until they found the place they were looking for. A dilapidated and weather beaten sign declared the building as belonging to the Britain Beacon Printing company, and a flickering bit of firelight from the small window indicated that someone was definitely inside. The billowing light cast from the torch that one of the guards carried showed that the building was definitely not as well kept as it once had been. The rot from the moisture of the southern docks had taken its toll on the building, and Captain Irina’s gauntleted fist pounded heavily on the door, shaking it softly on its hinges.

“Eh? Who’s ‘ere?” Called out a gruff voice from inside as it got a bit closer to the door.

“Royal Guard, open the door now and there won’t be any trouble.”

A plaintive wail emitted from inside followed by the unmistakable sound of a bolt being thrown to further secure the door. Without bothering to negotiate further, Captain Irina stepped back and braced herself before lashing out with a kick aimed just below the door knob. With the splintering crash of half rotten wood the door flung in, a small piece of wood with the locks and knob attached clinging to the spot where it had once been attached. Captain Irina and the other guards rushed in and seized the squirrelly looking fellow as he attempted to crawl atop a pile of barrels to try and get to the rafters, before slamming him to the ground and knocking the wind from him. “You’re under arrest, don’t make this any harder on yourself than you already have.”

The man spat a thick glob of spittle onto Captain Irina’s sash as he struggled against their attempts to cuff him. “You can’t do this! You can’t silence the truth! We know all about the secrets that you’re hiding! All the deaths that are being covered up, and your inability to deal with any of them! The truth will be heard! It’s all the fault of…” The man struggled as one of the guards shoved a wad of bandage into his mouth to silence him, and they hauled the bound man to his feet as they pulled him outside. Captain Irina surveyed the scene for a moment before issuing her next orders.

“Secure the building, seize anything that looks important, and haul him off for questioning. See if you can’t apprehend any of the others who worked here as well, and put out a warrant for Drakar Thantz. He may have the answers we need. We also have reason to believe that one Jamison Tort was the last person to see Drakar, so put out a notice for information on his whereabouts as well.” Captain Irina took a brief moment to look down at her sash at the stain so unceremoniously spat at her, and she brushed away what she could with one of her gauntleted hands. The dark impression of the moisture remained, turning her brilliant red sash darker, to a color more characteristic of fresh blood. With a shake of her head she stalked off towards her quarters. She hoped that the information was worth the risk, as she knew she was going to catch flak for arresting someone with the press…