I send this letter in request that you might visit our little town, north of the meadow, in hope that you might be able to help. Just recently an important family heirloom has been stolen from our midst. This item is of upmost importance and could mean life or death. We, of course, will pay you for your services IF the item is found and put back into my family's hands. Is you decide to accept this request, meet me under the clock tower on North Street at 8:36 pm.
Signed, Anonymous.
For the mood
[spoili]
[/spoili]
Somewhere North of the meadow lays a small village of minor curiosity.
Somewhere south of a forest, east of civilization and too far west for notice lays a meadow, and in that meadow a small road and on that road a smaller Model T in which two friends question their journey. Earlier this week, each received a short letter with no return address and only a small inkling of who might have sent it. Now on their shortest stretch of the journey to the town, Hershey and Steven question the mysterious situation.
Hershey looked up from the handwritten letter. "Hmph. How very unusual." Hershey stated as she looked across to Steven. "I wonder what could be so valuable that they write in such secrecy; And how this could mean life or death?!" She added. Hershey folded up the letter and slipped it back into the front pocket of her purse. Steven stole a glance at the disappearing letter only barely taking an eye off the roadway as he drove. "It seems less likely that they're in trouble by someone elses' means and more likely they themselves have made a mess somewhere that may cost someone else's life;" He shrugged "Otherwise why would they contact us instead of the police...?" The small car produced a pop of emphasis shaking the two slightly. Steven's car was an old sort but it had always treated him right as long as he respected it's age. He was quite found of every crack in it's black paint, every dent in it's roof and particularly of it's long white scratch on the passenger side door, which reminded him of fun times he and Hershey had with it as children.
"Do you remember that summer we stole this car from my grand dad to go to the fair and practically ran into the Ferris wheel? " He chuckled remembering how she complained about doing anything against the rules or ostentatious. "Cindy wouldn't talk to me for a solid month." Before the wars, Steven had been a very different person than the very organized military thinker he was today. Though the military couldn't take the blunt, uninhibited vocalization of a trouble maker he had always been. Hershey, the more reserved of the two, had always been the kindle-r of his fire...in a purely platonic way.
"Oh! Yes, I do!" Hershey said, laughing as the memories coming back to her. "That was a time to remember. Oh look! A sign. I can't quite make it out..." Hershey said as they slowly neared the small intersection of gravel roads with at least six signs pointing in all different directions. "A...Aramoor....five kilometers north! We're getting close!" Hershey exclaimed in excitement.
