The sun beat down on Skara Brae, much like an angry cyclopean warrior trying to crush its enemy. The humidity was stifling – the perils of being surrounded by the sea.
Carrick McGee mopped her brow, and tried once more to see past the extremely large Royal Guard, into the governor’s office. She couldn’t see much. Papers were strewn everywhere, chairs were overturned, and there was a strange smell of cabbages. Despite her best efforts, the guard wasn’t talking. Even the mug of ale Carrick had fetched from the Shattered Skull Inn failed to get more than two words out of the man. Unfortunately, those two words were “get lost”.
Carrick and her mug of ale withdrew to the nearby Counsellor’s Guild, and found a seat, where the two became very close. Where was Saorise? It was not even a month since she had been appointed governor. Surely she could not have made any enemies in that short time? She had dropped by to give her a newly made oak filing cabinet that she had wanted – she’d been given it by a grateful carpenter at The Builder’s Delight after catching a thieving goblin that had been plaguing the workshops.
After the ale had gone its merry way, Carrick wandered back to the governor’s office. The guard was still there, but bright yellow sashes had been bound across the doorway, with the words “Guard Line : Do not cross” being written on it by a small elf wearing the mark of the Scribe’s Guild.
Nodding to the guard, the elf headed for the moongate. Carrick followed. Grabbing the scribe by the robe, she spun him around. “Talk!” she hissed “Tell me where Governor Kilkenny is! Why is her office roped off?” EEEEEEE!” squealed the elf, dropping pens and ink everywhere. “Don’t hurt me! It’s not graffiti! The Guard Captain paid me to do it!” Carrick loosened her grip slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m looking for Saorise! What do you know?”
“Very little, sir. Very little. The guard said that it looked like there was a tussle in her office. They think she’s been taken! They paid me to put warning signs across the door so nobody will disturb the evidence until the Royal Detective can get here!”
Carrick let go of the elf’s robe, and pretended to help straighten his clothes. “Thank you, good sir. I wish you well. Happy scribing!”
The elf made a rude gesture, and dived through the moongate as fast as he could go.
Carrick McGee mopped her brow, and tried once more to see past the extremely large Royal Guard, into the governor’s office. She couldn’t see much. Papers were strewn everywhere, chairs were overturned, and there was a strange smell of cabbages. Despite her best efforts, the guard wasn’t talking. Even the mug of ale Carrick had fetched from the Shattered Skull Inn failed to get more than two words out of the man. Unfortunately, those two words were “get lost”.
Carrick and her mug of ale withdrew to the nearby Counsellor’s Guild, and found a seat, where the two became very close. Where was Saorise? It was not even a month since she had been appointed governor. Surely she could not have made any enemies in that short time? She had dropped by to give her a newly made oak filing cabinet that she had wanted – she’d been given it by a grateful carpenter at The Builder’s Delight after catching a thieving goblin that had been plaguing the workshops.
After the ale had gone its merry way, Carrick wandered back to the governor’s office. The guard was still there, but bright yellow sashes had been bound across the doorway, with the words “Guard Line : Do not cross” being written on it by a small elf wearing the mark of the Scribe’s Guild.
Nodding to the guard, the elf headed for the moongate. Carrick followed. Grabbing the scribe by the robe, she spun him around. “Talk!” she hissed “Tell me where Governor Kilkenny is! Why is her office roped off?” EEEEEEE!” squealed the elf, dropping pens and ink everywhere. “Don’t hurt me! It’s not graffiti! The Guard Captain paid me to do it!” Carrick loosened her grip slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m looking for Saorise! What do you know?”
“Very little, sir. Very little. The guard said that it looked like there was a tussle in her office. They think she’s been taken! They paid me to put warning signs across the door so nobody will disturb the evidence until the Royal Detective can get here!”
Carrick let go of the elf’s robe, and pretended to help straighten his clothes. “Thank you, good sir. I wish you well. Happy scribing!”
The elf made a rude gesture, and dived through the moongate as fast as he could go.