17th of Thermidor, 1535

Moira waited for the postman to ride away before she went to check on their newly installed postbox. She quickly scuttled outside and dug inside to pull out only a single newspaper. Considering how many talons Oleander spent at the post office just to have someone deliver letters and contracts directly to his home, Moira expected more. She returned inside with her meager prize.

Oleander stood over the poorly built stove trying to heat some equally terrible quality coffee. He hadn’t had a sound night’s sleep since Moira started building her wheel-crank drilling table. He’d put up with it if it meant he’d get higher-quality firearms. Moira returned to the kitchen attempting to hand the newspaper over to Oleander, but he just asked her to read it for him. She unfolded it and read the headline article: Lumen, Gone in a Flash.

*****

29th of Messidor, 1535

Whitegarden, Northern Morrigan

At approximately 8:45 at night, an individual walked down Angstrom street and entered The First City Bank of Whitegarden. The gentleman, who would refer to himself as Lumen, was identified as quite smartly dressed. A black suit, black trousers, and a dark coloured tie. Upon his head was a top hat with sunglasses resting on the brim. At his side was a cane of twisted iron. Witness consensus says Lumen had dark brown hair with either brown or green eyes. Other facial features were obscured by a cloth mask.

Once within the bank’s lobby, he slowly holstered his walking cane. Bank teller Emma Sutherford exited the bathroom and crossed the lobby where her path crossed Lumen’s. According to her testimony to the police, she approached him and politely asked if he needed assistance. He reportedly said, “I don’t want to do this love, but you were at the wrong place at the wrong time.” Immediately afterward, Lumen pulled a revolver out from his jacket and pressed the barrel against her chest. Sutherford was told to bring him to the vault; complying with Lumen’s request, Sutherford walked the robber into the employee-only area. The other tellers when they spotted the gun in Lumen’s hands either froze to their seats or got on the ground. One of the female bank tellers, far out of Lumen’s periphery, hid behind her desk and slowly crept back into the lobby.

The vault was opened to Lumen. He produced two satchels from his jacket and ordered Sutherford and fellow bank teller, Leland Hodges, to fill them up with as much jewelry and money as possible. The bank teller attempting to escape via the lobby, who requested to remain anonymous, accidentally drew attention to herself. As she ran to the entranceway, Lumen fired three shots across the lobby. Two misses, but the third bullet pierced the woman’s shoulder. She then ran down Angstrom streets calling for help when she encountered Lieutenant Mossfield making his nightly rounds.

Lumen ordered Sutherford and Hodges to pick up the pace as he threatened to shoot one of them next. Once the two bags were stuffed, he ordered Leland to sit with the others and not move. Sutherford was ordered to walk in front of Lumen as they crossed the lobby. According to Sutherford, “This Lumen guy didn’t seem accustomed to carrying heavy loads. He had to use his walking stick for support, but he still had that gun of his pointed right at me. I’ve never been so scared in all my life before.”

At 9:05 pm, the police arrived at the bank. Mossfield and three other officers entered the vestibule and cut off Lumen’s escape. Mossfield ordered Lumen to drop his weapon and place his hands in the air. Lumen initially appeared compliant, he lowered his revolver and raised his arms—while still holding onto his cane.

Mossfield claims Lumen said, “Good show mates, but I’m afraid this is where we part ways. My name is Lumen, and I say, let there be light.” White light exploded from the top of Lumen’s cane—disorienting and blinding all the police officers. While the police were subdued, Lumen made his escape into the dense fog.

No boot prints were left on the road. No money had fallen out from his satchels. It appeared that Lumen truly disappeared into the night. Days after the robbery, Mossfield and the other officers were reported to still be suffering from partial blindness.

Based on witness and police accounts, Lumen is believed to be in his mid-to-late twenties and stands between 165—175 centimeters. The walking stick he was carrying is believed to be a blessing and considered extremely dangerous. Police are offering a three hundred talon bounty for Lumen’s capture along with the return of the stolen money and jewelry. Any information on the identity and/or whereabouts of this individual is to be directed to the Whitegarden Police Department.

*****

“Does the three hundred talon bounty interest you herr Swine?”

“The bounty’s good, but I need a lot more information than what they posted. I vaguely know what he looks like, which is a start, but all I know is that he is probably not in Whitegarden anymore. If he pops up a few more times, then we can try to track him down.”

Moira asked, “Should I keep the article then?”

“Yeah, what else is in the paper?” Oleander poured out his coffee and brought his meal of old jerky and stale bread to the kitchen table.

Moira flipped through the pages.

*****

1st of Thermidor, 1535

Sterling, Southern Morrigan

Kevin Applegarth, age seven, disappeared late on the evening of the 1st of Thermidor. He was last seen by his fellow primary school classmates leaving the city gates on his way home. When he didn't return by eight o'clock, his parents reported him missing to the authorities. On the 3rd of Thermidor, his bookbag, and shoes were discovered in a peach orchard two miles down the road from the Applegarth residence. The landowners had been out of town when Kevin Applegarth disappeared, removing them as suspects. Kevin joins the likes of Catherine Wells and Theodore “Teddy” Brooks. All three of whom lived outside Sterling and traveled into the city for school. Please provide any useful information to the families of the missing children or the Sterling Police Department.

*****

“For a report on missing children, they were sparse on the information,” Moira remarked.

“If the person is under the age of eighteen, the police tend to be very selective on who gets the information,” Oleander clarified.

“Would we be able to get information on the case and find the children?”

“Aside from the police, only hunting companies can get access to that information.” Oleander sat back in his chair and drank the last of his coffee, “It’s gonna be a good long while before that happens.”

Moira asked, “What does it take?”

“Money. Lots of it. A hunting company requires licenses. For the owners and every hunter associated. Massengale’s payment will cover some licenses, but we’re going to need more. And some news recruits as well.”

“I understand. Would you still like me to save this article as well?”

“Hang that and the other article up in my room; I’ve got a hammer and box of nails in there you can use. One of the walls is dedicated to these bounties and mysteries, it’s not hard to miss,” Oleander explained.

Moira took the two pages to Oleander’s room; she’d never paid much attention, but one of the walls was almost entirely newspaper clippings and old bounties. Different news articles were linked together by chalk lines and drawings. Theories and questions marks filled up the empty spaces where there was no paper. There didn’t seem to be an open spot for these new articles. Should she disturb this cultivated madness on the wall? The name “Swine” caught her attention; it was on a small section of the wall centering around a single obituary:

*****

Swine, Shelby Anne

Drowned in the Patchwork Woods on the 11th of Germinal, the eve of her 6th birthday. She is survived by her loving parents, Joseph and Olivia, and elder brother Alexander.

Careena führe sie in den Himmel

*****

Surrounded by the obituary were different sketches of bipedal sea creatures that Moira had never seen before. A few more drowning-related obituaries were listed, but each had question marks around them.

“Well, that fucking explains it!” Moira was taken aback by Oleander’s yelling.

She replied, “What explains what?”

“C’mere, I’ll show you.”

Moira hastily nailed the two news articles to the empty wall and scuttled back to the kitchen.

Oleander pointed to an article in the back of the newspaper, “Right here. Salt prices across Morrigan rise. Investigations into the collapse of Holinhafen’s largest salt mines are still ongoing. At least fifty confirmed deaths with potentially more buried under hundreds of tons of debris. Company owners refuse to comment at the moment.” Oleander looked angrily towards the partially filled salt barrel they picked up at the market the other day, “One hundred bones for half a barrel of salt. I thought the merchant had gone mad when he told me the price.”

“What is it normally?”

“Twenty talons a barrel.”

Their discussion was cut short by a deep red light glowing from Oleander’s bedroom. The two rushed over to see a Signum diagram appear on his wall. A single letter phased out from the wall and fluttered to the ground. The diagram immediately faded away leaving only a single green dot on the wall.

“If letters can be sent using Signum, why did you need a postbox?”

Oleander scooped up the letter, “You saw how big that symbol was right?”

“Yes, about half the size of the wall.”

“I can’t put a symbol that big on the postbox. If I had to send a package, the symbol would be as big as a house.”

Moira inquired, “There’s no easier way to do it?”

“Transporting things through Signum is incredibly inefficient. My friend has tried, this was his solution for letters.” Oleander tore open the letter to reveal a hastily written message.

*****

Oleander

Something big in the sky over Kerth. Bird head, lion body. Eaten one, maybe two people. Fix this. Chief may pay a lot.

Also, we drink? Also also, we get readings?

Cormag

*****

“Are you up for a trip to Sotra to meet some goblin a goblin friend of mine?” Oleander asked.

“Um...I will pass...I need to work on the shotgun now that the table is complete.”

“It’s about a ten-day round trip. When I get back, will you have the gun finished?”

“I’ll probably be testing a version of it by then.”

“Sounds good to me. Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.

“I make no promises.”

Oleander threw on his hunting attire, slung on his belt, and picked up his greatsword. Based on Cormag’s description, he knew he’d need a real heavy weapon. He rode off towards the east, to Sotra, goblin country.