Oblivion Mod:Stirk/Weight of Guilt, Part I

t was deep in the month of Second Seed when a messenger brought a letter to my residence in Greenheart, which lies at the southern end of Valenwood. I presume similar letters were sent out to my various other residences, though considering the sharpness of the Emperor's eyes and ears, I would be not at all surprised to find that my location would be common knowledge within certain circles. At any rate the package was from near the heart of the Empire, a town just to the south of beautiful Cyrodiil itself. Breathless, the young messenger boy explained that the matter was of the utmost urgency, and I should, in all due haste, set sail for the capital.

Upon unsealing and digesting the contents of the letter, I was much of the opinion of the youth. Given that the request for aid was issued by a member of the Blades, it was clearly not a small trifle. While it is true that I do have associations within that group, and had worked alongside them, as well as for them in the past, it is my experience that they typically like to keep things "in house", so to speak. That they had contacted me suggested that they had arrived at a dead end, in terms of their investigations.

Ship rocking gently in Topal Bay on the way to my destination, I reread the package again, familiarizing myself with the case. It seems that in this town, certain citizens were being murdered at the rate of about two per week for three weeks. When the killer struck the nephew of a Blades member, and that organization became heavily involved. Between the combined forces of the Blades and local law enforcement, little headway had been made.

The author of the correspondence wrote that Intervention spells were not used, for after the first incident the nearest shrines were monitored, and there were no teleporting travelers at the times of the next few murders. The possibility that Recall was being used could not be discounted, but, the letter argued, some thought the killer might enjoy watching the chaos he'd left in his wake. I shook my head sadly, folded the letter back up, and placed it in my pocket.

After we made landfall, I was greeted by Kevius Altenian. The excitable fellow was somehow under the impression that I would have solved the case on the boat ride over, but that I had failed to draw any solid conclusions from the rather vague note did not seem to shake his confidence. He happily reached into his own pocket to pay a carriage to take us the remaining distance to the village.

In town, Kevius led me to a nondescript two story house, which was, he said, the site of the first murder, and was currently serving as their headquarters of the investigation. The downstairs area contained four heavily armed and armored soldiers - Imperial Legion, by the designs - and two more common-looking individuals - Blades. The Legionnaires visibly bristled when we entered, but a scarcely noticeable gesture from one of the Blades assured them all was in order. Normally, the Legion would be absent in such a case, but as with the Blades the killer had also struck the relative of a high-ranking Legionnaire.

"Breton." The Blade greeted me casually "Let us survey the upstairs, hear your opinion, and we shall see if you've wasted a trip." He led the way to a staircase, down a short hall, and to a door. Knocking on the door, he said "Protectorate, you have a visitor." The door opened on a scene of carnage the likes of which I have rarely had the misfortune of seeing.

Once upon a time, the room had clearly been something to behold. A sturdy bookcase lined one wall, opposite a large bed. Intricate designs had been carved into the wood of both, as well as the nightstand. A third wall, the one opposite the window, bore several pegs that would have held up a marvelous tapestry. Either during or after the killing, much of that had been laid waste. The bookcase was fractured, part of it leaning against a wall, another part wholly collapsed to the floor. The books it had held were strewn about the room, and were also partially shredded. Many loose pages had become stuck to the floor, as the blood soaking them had dried. The incredible craftsmanship displayed in the carvings similarly found itself obscured with blood, where it had not simply been scratched into unrecognizability. The window had but a few shards of glass left in it. As for the tapestries that once decorated the wall, they lay in hard, blood-dried piles on the floor. Even so, one could see where they had been torn. Remembering the package I'd been sent, I realized that this scene was three weeks old.

"Anything you'd like to add?" asked the Protectorate. When I nodded, the fellow seemed shocked.

"First of all, the victim likely knew the killer. Secondly, the killer used the window as his means of egress. Thirdly, the killer is in excellent physical condition, perhaps unnaturally so. And as a corollary, I do not believe any fortification spell was used - you're looking for someone genuinely powerful." I paused, considering, "I may be able to deduce more, if I am allowed access to other scenes preserved similarly, and if I am allowed access to the bodies, assuming that they have not yet been disposed of."

The Protectorate and Blade shot each other surprised looks. "I wouldn't mind getting a further opinion from you." the Blade said, "As to the first of your requests, the sites of the two most recent attacks have not yet been too much disturbed."

"The first murder, and the last two? What of the other three sites?" I inquired.

"One was at the inn, and the owner thoroughly cleaned the room in question. Can't rent out a slaughterhouse, he told me. The remaining two took place in homes occupied by families. Vile enough that children must be raised fatherless, but to make them live mere feet away from the undisturbed scene asks too much."

"And the bodies?"

"That may prove a touch more difficult. Three have been cremated, one buried. The last two - which are indeed the last two - are currently in the possession of a necromancer. Legally, they're her property, so you'll have to talk it over with her."

Ant.: Nenhum

Acima: Weight of Guilt

Próx.: Weight of Guilt, Part II