Blood Moon Rising

"Any time, Inspector!" Perrin yelled over his shoulder. But I've got work to do for now.

***​
He really would have to skin that boy. The damage wasn't too great, but it was clear. Lad must have tried to light a piece of tinder with a match and had accidentally dropped it into the coal box. "I do have to give him credit for putting it out, though." Soot had stained the gray walls black, and much of the metal in the room would be needing cleaning. But that wasn't at the front of Perrin's mind at the moment. The door. If that Inspector comes here, he'll want to see everything. What do I do about the door?

It would take too long to repair it, that much was clear. And even if he did try some shoddy workmanship with it, it would be all too clear what had damaged it. No. He couldn't fix it. But he could replace it. Charlie wouldn't say anything, as if he were one to notice anything of that sort. The Inspector had never been to the smithy here before, so there would be no difference to him. Perrin rushed down to the cellar, and stared at the metal slab before him. Five feet by three and three quarters. He had to stoop to get in every day. About two and a half inches thick. "Can't cut it down to size, then." It would take far too long. The hinges, however, were rusty iron, easily broken with a good hit from a hammer. Now, now. Don't make it too obvious. Let's see: 'As you can see, Inspector, I'm quite a large man. I had the door removed to enlarge the frame.' Perfect! Then again, what about the walls? Those too were heavily scratched. Bah! I'll get this whole place renovated. One thing at a time.

Grabbing a hammer off the table upstairs, Perrin began smashing the hinges on the door, each breaking after one or two hits. He felt the breath leave him when the door fell forward on him. Grunting, he managed to heft it up the stairs and drag it out back. He had a cart and a horse, none of those fancy automobiles he'd heard the wealthier folk speak of. But it would do. Loading the door onto the cart (which creaked so much under the weight that Perrin thought it may break), Perrin pulled on a coat and wide-brimmed hat. Hooking the horse (he didn't believe in naming animals) up to the cart, he hopped into the driver's seat. We'll bury this outside of town, and go back for it in due course. He tapped the horse into motion and set off down the road out of town.​
 
Alistair Baines, purple
"I guess it is rather foolish of me to fancy stories" The young judge laughed, shifting his weight again. He watched Memoria pull the piece of hay from her hair. It reminded him of his childhood when he used to hide in the hay next his house--going to the doctor was never very fun. He also used to hide when he upset his father. As a child, he had been quite afraid of his father. Experience of the world beyond the negative old judge had I cloaked the type of person Judge Colton Baines was. No longer was he scary to his son.

"I don't find the evidence of hard labor anything to sneer at." He gave her a subtle wink, "It must be rather liberating to spend time away from bustling of man and enjoy nature. I always wished I could communicate with horses, so to speak. Instead, I only wind up spooking them."

Before Alistair could finish his sentence, he and Memoria were approached by the town repair man, who appeared quite flustered.


Rally Ashburn, red
As if the fog hadn't been troublesome enough, the townspeople made an impossible crowd to manage through. He wondered what could possibly have everyone flooding the center of town. It would be dark in less than a few hours and he had to get Lady Merriam's gas lamp fixed--problem was three of his smaller metal tools had become warped from excessive pressure. Mr. Blackwood had not been at his smithy; it also appeared so e kind of accident had occurred. He wondered if the commotion was related to whatever had occurred at Mr.Blackwood's.

But when he found himself finally at center town, he realized he had been wrong. The first thing he noticed were the hollowed singed eyes of the bludgeoned beast. Bile rose into his throat and burned his nostril.

"Blimey!" Escaped his lips as he found himself next to the modern judge and the stable girl. "What in the heavens..." He wobbled back a little, head shaking.

"I know... It's quite horrific..." Alistair frowned, both brows furrowed as he glanced to the repairman. "No one knows what to make of it."

"I'll say," Rally nodded to Memoria, flashing a quick smile, "Sorry for my rudeness, g'day Memoria."

"Mr. Baines, have you any idea where Mr.Blackwood went off to? You see, I went to his smithy but it appeared some kind of catastrophe had happened and his horse and cart are gone. I'm in dire need of his talents."

Alistair's brows remained pressed, "I'm sorry, I can't be of much help there."


Inspector Rumancek, white
Hands deep in the monster, Rumancek over heard the new comer's rant and inquiry about Mr. Blackwood out of touch. It didn't alarm him--no smart man would skip town after being interrogated. And the blacksmith was a mart man. Rumancek had been in the business long enough to know.

"Alright, Knox, I'm done here. Mr. Kilder can have at as long as he likes." He slipped his gloves off, "And Sister, before I can let you touch the corpse, I'll need to question you. I'm ready when you are." He stretched out a weathered hand, "Inspector Rumancek."


Knox, green
"No need to worry about me, Sister," Knox tipped his hat, but I appreciate the concern." With Rumancek ready to occupy Arabelle, Knox excused himself--but before he could make his way of out the crowd the Inspector grabbed his arm and whispered into his ear, "Tonight, I'd like you to retrieve the papers from Mr. Blackwood."

"Of course." With that Knox began to interrogate others on the crowd. He was only a few paces from Memoria, and would like likely be questioned in a matter of minutes.
 
memoria smiled softly. Could people like him really reside here. As much as she wanted to stay, and talk with him more she had to leave. Her mother would be expecting her soon, and she knew better than to keep her waiting.


"well judge Baines i as well am in need of Mr. Blackwood's services. ITs time to break the foul,which means i need horseshoes. Good day"

Memoria turned and made her way to the blacksmith. She struggled to keep straight and not turn back. Even with the tragic events that had taken place she couldn't help but to feel a small tinge of happiness. Perhaps she could now have a friend. She giggled to herself then took of running,hoping she could get what she needed before going to see her mother in time.
 
"Of course," Ara replied smoothly, shaking his hand. "And it was a pleasure to meet you, Officer," she called out to the man walking away from her. "I'm Sister Arabelle, it's a pleasure to meet you as well." She paused for a moment, setting down her bag. "I'm not exactly eager to begin my investigation, so take as long as you need. What would you like to know?" Her hands unconsciously brushed a stray strand of hair back under her headwrap.
 
Jacob stood and stepped away from the beast for a moment, searching the surrounding area. There had to be some indication of where the corpse had come from, unless, of course, the number of people surrounding the scene managed to obliterate any evidence that may have been on the ground. He had zoned out, blocking out anything that might was going on around him. He focused his attention on the ground and started walking in circles, starting from the wolf that would serve as the center and moving out. There were a few occasions where he almost bumped into somebody, an officer or otherwise, but aside from that there wasn't much to disturb his thought process.

As he walked he thought about the case. Whoever had done this might have been a hunter, although he didn't know any hunters who went to such an extreme after a kill. They wouldn't kill innocent children either. There had to be a motive, obviously, there always was, no matter what the crime was. That didn't necessarily justify the crime, but he was curious to see what 'reasonable' answer the murderer may have had for this.

He couldn't find any traces of blood on the ground, aside from around the wolf itself. From what he could see, there weren't any signs of a scuffle, either. If there had been some kind of fight here, someone would have had to have heard it or seen it. "Maybe they used..." Jacob caught himself thinking out loud and shook his head. He had a habit of doing that. Well, if the murderer had used a cart, wheelbarrow, anything to transport this corpse and bones, he couldn't find any signs of it, meaning they had either covered their tracks really well or left none to begin with. He highly doubted it was the latter. There was also the possibility that all the people that were coming and going had managed to cover up any tracks. He sighed and began pacing. He'd probably go on a walk later to sort his thoughts, assuming the Inspector didn't have other plans that he needed to be involved in.
 
Alistair Baines, purple
Memoria's sudden leave had the young judge too slow to form a great response. He quickly collected himself, watching her print off. He smiled and waved, "G'day. Give Mr. Blackwood my best when he returns to town."

He slowly dropped his hand, lips pulled down into a grimace, "Poor bloke, I hope his workshop is not in too bad of shape."

"Tenacious girl, that one." Rally smirked, watching the back of Memoria as well. He shrugged to the judge, "I'm in desperate need of Mr. Blackwood equally. Take care of yourself." He patted Alistair on the shoulder and headed in the same direction."


Rally Ashburn, red
The repairman cut through the crowd, not too far behind the stable girl. Getting through the masses was easier said then done. When he did reach the clearing, and Memoria, he pocketed his hands, "Like I said, the smith seems out of town. It's put me in a spot as well."


Inspector Rumancek, white
"A pleasure, ma'am," Rumancek gave her hand quick shake before retrieving his notepad from his chest pocket. His stone eyes looked up at her from full, stern eyebrows. He brushed a hand along his slight, silver gruff, "I need to to know, Sister, where were you last night? Also, have you ever seen a beast like this one." The Church was surely involved in some supernatural happenings but he doubted wolves were a common thing for them.

As Jacob inspected the skulls that filled up the monster's cavity, he would notice the same thing Rumancek had: X's craved into the inside of the children's skulls. The Inspector leaned in the young detective's direction, "I'd check the orphanages."
 
"I went to bed at the eighth bell, then was up at four to prepare for five o'clock mass. And this is the first time I've seen a dead werewolf, though around a decade ago I remember a living one was brought to the abbey to be healed. I was rather young though, so I don't remember the details. You could ask one of the older members of the church, I'm sure they would know more about the past then I." Ara met his gaze steadily, her voice calm. Then her face brightened as if she suddenly had an idea. "Or you could check the church archives. There's over five centuries of records, there must be something on the matter."
 
Inspector Rumancek, white
The man had been nodding to the details as he jotted information down systematically--until she mentioned a wounded Werewolf that had been brought to Eardwulf Abbey--an Abbey for healing. His mind whirled but he hid his distraught. Rumancek's cold eyes looked up at Arabelle, "Both. I need your word. Let's start with the Abbey, shall we?"
 
Ara pursed her lips. "You must understand that as people of God we do not turn away anyone in need who comes to us." She crossed her arms. "If you would like to check with the Abbey, then be my guest."

Her eyes narrowed as she examined him. "You should remember that most werewolves have no evil intentions, and should be treated as normal human beings. That is what makes this crime all the more... heinous."
 
Perrin would really have to talk with the Lord Eardwulf about the quality of the roads. His cart couldn't go two feet before falling into a pothole and jarring his bones. At least the door had kept the cart weighed down. That business is done with, though. He'd go back for it when this investigation was over with. The early morning sun was rising in the east, and had begun beating down on Perrin's head. He was glad he'd brought that hat of his. But whatever level the sun may be at, it was still an English summer. The horse was moving at a sluggish pace, no doubt tired from the weight it had lugged for a mile out of town. It would have to wait for rest, though. No doubt Perrin's absence had been noticed. More questions. He'd worked out an excuse for the marks on the walls inside the basement, but it might not be any less incriminating.

Perrin was just beginning to fade out of consciousness when he came upon the edge of town. Suddenly, a more dangerous thought came to mind: What would he do tonight? The moon would still be full. He shivered at the thought, half-formed ideas creeping up on him the whole way, until he came upon his smithy. The fires of the forge blazing. "What the-?" He left the cart parked on the road and tossed his coat and hat onto the bed as he rushed into the shop. He saw Charlie there, working a tiny hammer around Mrs. Kessler's forks. The fires hadn't been stoked too high, the silver not needing much to be made malleable. Perrin had never asked the woman where she got any good silver in this town, and she never told. But it made the job easier. But that wasn't on his mind.

"Boy!" His bellow startled the lad into dropping the hammer and one of the forks to the floor. A trained eye would have noticed the silverware bend slightly at the impact, the heat still afflicting it. A look of pure terror was frozen on Charlie's face.

"Uh, m-m-master Blackwood. I-I-I know what you s-s-said earlier, b-b-but I thought I'd f-f-finish my work." He could barely speak. Perrin did feel bad about scaring the boy so much. Might not do good if he ever learned what the cellar was for. But his actions were admirable. A wonderful work ethic. Insubordination is hardly valuable. But dedication is.

"Ah, to hell with what I said earlier! I'm angry at you for dropping the damn fork! You'll ruin a perfectly good piece of silver, man! You know that there are more skilled silversmiths up north, aye? We'll lose business if we don't keep up!" Perrin bent and picked up the hammer and fork, shoving them back into Charlie's hands. "Fix that, you hear?" The relief on the boy's face was painfully clear.

"Yes sir!" Perrin started down the stairs when Charlie called back to him. "Oh, sir! Master Ashburn came calling for you earlier. He was last asking around the... Square. I think." He'd had to avoid mentioning the incident. There had been an agreement between the two when Charlie's apprenticeship had been begun: No unsavory discussions.

"Alright. When you're done, go find Master Ashburn. I'll see to what he wants done." He entered the cellar, now doorless. The fire Charlie had started earlier hadn't managed to do too much down here. But Perrin had a few ideas about what to do with the deep scores along the walls.
 
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memoria came upon the smithery out of breath from her running the whole way here. Mr. Blackwood was always grumpy,which is why she found him very amusing. She has been known to stir up trouble while in his shop. Her impish behavior got the best of her when dealing with hi. Memoria hesitated before going in,she had already caused trouble when flirting with his assistant,she was sure he wasn't going to be to keen on seeing her. The thought of getting under his skin made her smile. She walked looking around curiously.

"this place seems to stay a mess with or without my presences"
 
"Of course, the orphanages." Jacob repeated, burying his face in his hands. "Why hadn't I thought of that?" That would explain a few things. "I'll go do that, sir." He gave Rumancek a nod of thanks before he made his way through the crowd. It might have been preferable that he went with another officer or two, but that thought never crossed his mind. He was maybe twenty feet away from the crowd before it actually occurred to him. He'd never been to the town before, there was little chance he could find anything here on his own without taking too much time. And time was of the essence. He turned around and made his way back to the crowd, with the intention of asking where the city's orphanages were, not wanting to fight his way through the people again to get to the center.
 
Inspector Rumancek, white
Cold, grey eyes stared into Arabelle as the Inspector's hand grew still. He cleared his throat, still annoyed with the heavy fog. He wondered how the people of Eardwulf could tolerate it. A woman of the habit having a gentle heart was not something that could surprise him, but what did was her notion that a werewolf could have a heart. Even in human state, they were simply monsters. However, he wasn't there to convince and already he seemed out numbered on his beliefs, having been forewarned by Sir Judge Baines about the young Alistair.

"I will check with the Abbey." He flipped his notebook shut, "But how could you possibly figure any werewolf to be free of malice?" He tone was not judgmental, but full of absolute inquiry. "Also, could I ask a favor? Would you please give my comrade a hand?" He motioned towards the very lost Jacob Kilder, "He just set out to find the orphanage. Being a Sister, I'm sure you could lead him with ease?"


Rally Ashburn, green
Mr. Blackwood seemed to be in hurry and that had the young witch grimacing; whatever his assistant had been up to had seemed to be causing all kinds of trouble. He just hoped in spite of havoc that the blacksmiths would be able to properly fix his tools. Rally shook his head in response to Memoria, "That is does. I feel a tad guilty for being so ready to place another burden on Mr. Blackwood."

His eyes suddenly unfocused as that strange feeling washed over him again like chilly, black wave. He glanced towards where the heat of the fire seeped into other parts of the smithy. Mr. Blackwood had never rubbed him the wrong way whatsoever, but sometimes being at the smithy had him victim to a heavy air. He always assumed it just the sense of flame. As a witch, he could be very sensitive to the elements.
 
Perrin heard Memoria's voice and made his way back up the staircase. "I thought I felt a disturbance. You ought get out of my shop, girl, else you finish what Charlie here started." He didn't have to look to feel the embarrassment wash across his apprentice's face. "What do you need, Ms. Nikki?" He'd heard the Eardwulf women speak about Memoria Nikki many times. No matter how old, no matter how dead, some attitudes never fade. Perrin wasn't surprised to hear talk of Memoria's skin. He personally had never seen anything different in a dark-skinned man or woman from a lighter counterpart. Father always spoke bad of them... No! No talk of him. No talk of any of them. But the large majority were all worried about getting the girl married off more than the color of her skin. Hell, she flirts with half the men in this village, and taunts the others. But then, she did shoot some looks the way of Alistair.

"So. What can I do for you?"
 
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Ara gave the inspector a demure smile. "Can you figure any human to be free of malice? As children of the Lord, it is our duty to take those who have wronged and guide them back to the path of righteousness, so that they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. Werewolves are not as different from humans as you may think."

The corner of her lips quirked upwards along with her right eyebrow, turning her previous expression into an amused smile. "I'm glad I could be of some assistance to you, at least," she continued, acknowledging the fact that he had just dismissed her. "And of course I can, I've been there many times in the past. An unfortunate duty, of course. That children must be abandoned like that..." Her voice trailed off slightly. Then she abruptly collected herself. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Inspector."

With a respectful dip of her head, Ara turned around gracefully and began walking towards the other man. "Sir? I was asked to show you the way to the orphanage?" she said, coming to a stop in front of him.

((One quick note [and I'll edit this out later] I'm interspersing bits and pieces of the Bible, the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and several other Christian texts. If I get something wrong, please PM me. I don't want to offend anyone, but I know religion is a tricky subject that I need to tread carefully on. I'm utilizing it for fictional purposes here, so please don't burn me at the stake if I mess something up.))
 
"Why do you insist on calling me Ms.nikki. My father worked really hard in giving me a first name,and it's quite lovely"
Memoria walked closer to him fluttering her eyelashes as she talks.

"Why don't you call me Memoria,is it because you do not fancy me? Or perhaps you are so in love with me that just the sound of my first name is to much for you"

Memoria giggled, she was still amazed on the fact that he let her into his shop. She took in a more serious tone seeing as she was already late as is.

"Horse shoes,as usual. You still ask even tho I never bothered you for anything else. Thier really isn't any orher reason for me to grace you with my presence that doesn't involve the horses,well...." She glanced over at Charlie. She really held nothing for him. It was safe to say that all her affections for him were nothing more than jest. Just to further bother Mr.Blackwood. She of course planned to pay no more attention to him,thier is another who has caught her eye. 'Mother would be so proud....'
 
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"Oh, yes." He turned to the woman who had approached him. The Inspector had been speaking to her earlier. He seemed to zone out for a moment, but brought himself back. "Yes, actually. I believe that would be helpful." He pulled his right hand out of his pocket, held it out to her, and smiled. "My name's Jacob Kilder. It's a pleasure to meet you." Given the circumstances, he was being surprisingly personable.
 
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"Sister Arabelle," she replied, shaking his hand firmly and dipping her head a little. "It's a little ways of a walk from here, but I can't say I'm not eager to leave this little scene." She sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose at the scent that had already begun to emanate from the corpse.

"Be warned, though," Ara added, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "The orphanage is not the cheeriest of places to grow up in, so I'm not sure how cooperative the children will be if you wish to question them."
 
"That's understandable." Jacob replied. Even as accustomed to these things as he was, the scene was still disturbing. "I don't believe questioning any of the children will be necessary, but if it were to come to it, I'll try to be, er-" He coughed. "... Friendly." Jacob replied, unsure of another way to say what was going through his mind. If anything, he'd rather avoid talking to them altogether; talking to children was definitely not one of his strong points. He was rather impatient when it came to cases, and more often than not, children were difficult to question. For him anyway. "So what do you make of that?" He asked, gesturing back to the scene.
 
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