It was much more exciting on the third day of the Spring Festival:
The cruel assassins whose blades gutted the family entered the grounds by clambering over the eastern wall, using grappling hooks and ropes. Once inside they slaughtered all within, sparing neither servant nor woman nor even the small children. The ghastly work commenced with the systematic torture of many, and terminated with chopping some of them into pieces as small as a finger.
The fire was started in the western wing of the Haley mansion, which was largely of wooden construction, and burned swiftly, but thanks to quick action, did not spread to other homes in the area. Masked by the attention given to the fire, the killers then disappeared into the night. Nobody near the home reports seeing anything out of the ordinary that night, but a comprehensive search is underway.
The Town Guard is investigating the case thoroughly, a Captain of the Guard even being on the scene within moments of the fire being extinguished to personally oversee the collection of evidence.
The description of the HIDEOUS AND PAINFUL TORTURE of the Haley family
tells the tale of an AWFUL AND BLOODY sight. If you would be offended or
unsettled by candid description of this HORROR...READ NO FURTHER!!
The gaping wounds, the horrid gashes crossed the bodies even of the children of the family, mutely testifying to the horrific slaughter. From the angle of the wounds it is clear that some were killed even while begging on their knees for their lives, bathed in the innocent blood of the entire household.
Indications are that the attack was well-planned, including flashbombs to blind some of the guards and other magical preparations to render even the faintest resistance futile...
The Courier promptly received the Fox's instructions to distribute the proceeds of this daring theft to the deserving poor, and has done so. Who could the mysterious taffer be? Speculation runs high, and the Town Guard remains mystified by the popular rogue.
Hello ducks! I hope all of you've been sleeeeeeping well. Ha ha ha. That's
not so funny, is it? No, no, ducks, not so funny anymore. And the
nerve of those taffers stealing my column title! Ooooh, it burns me
up, and you KNOW how burning me up, er, burns me up, ducks.
Well, let me tell you, my cousins over at the Bonehoard are all abuzz and not just with the usual flies and maggots. New neighbors down there - the Haleys, well, well, and all at once! What do you know?
What indeed?
ITEM: Well, ducks, it may be true that the Hazens and the Haleys were linked but it's not as if the Hazens will be up in arms about this. See if you can count the dry eyes in the Hazen section at the Haley funeral (with their oh so closed caskets). The Hazens never did take too well to the Haley using them as a rung up...or should maybe that be the Haleys pulling them a rung down? So sad what money can't buy you these days. So sad.
ITEM: Maybe it wasn't blackmail or secret bastardy that linked the Hazens to the Haleys, ducks, after all, if it were blackmail someone would have found something by now, and bastardy has the delicate problem of actually producing a bastard. But we do know that Lord Haley was quite a...vigorous man for his age. A bit on the uncontainable side, perhaps? And the Hazen family has well more than its share of cuckolders. Perhaps their... wires got crossed? Please throw more euphemisms over the wall. The ones we have are getting oh so old, just like the stories.
ITEM: Perhaps it is coincidence that the rumors of a massive breakout at Cragscleft Prison come so near this terrible terrible thing? Is it possible, ducks? It practically makes one swoon, my dearie dears. Some gang of murderous madmen from Cragscleft...no, ducks, not THEM, and shame on you for thinking that...zoom down from the cliffs and in celebration decide to ship a dozen to the Bonehoard and two dozen to the Paupers' Field? Tsk tsk, it's not worth thinking about. Even madmen wouldn't come back to the city, would they? Well?
ITEM: Now dearie dears, we have to wonder when a distant relative tells the Diggers to send the bodies to the Bonehoard so fast. But let it pass, we can't blame those ever-present distant relatives, they need the money and someone has it to pass around. But - O Scandal! - why would the Town Guard let them? Surely they are eager to find the perpetrators before they strike again? Surely and surely?
As the search for the motive for the Haley massacre continues facts have come to light that link the massacre not only to the daring theft of a priceless jewel, but to some of the most powerful persons in the city.
But there was clearly no room for bastardy in a family of the social ambitions of the Haleys. So, as often happens, the Swayle child, though possessed of noble blood, grew up in the seamy underside of the city, cared for intermittently by his mother, falling in with the criminal element. We know this child only as "D", because all record of D has been expunged, and only a crime wihch D may not have committed bears the monogram "D. Swayle."
Approximately fifteen years ago, the esteemed jewelers Silvanus and Sons received as part of a shipment a jewel of inestimable cost. Although at the time, they felt that the jewel was a windfall, easily worth as much as the rest of the shipment put together, soon the bloody curse of greed and avarice that follows all such gems appeared. They were struck by a very professional thief, who broke into their well-guarded facility, knocked out several guards, and opened their safe, taking the great jewel and a few other smaller pieces.
The casual observer might think therefore that the Haley massacre was the simple revenge of a dispossessed son, driven mad by his lengthy imprisonment at the Hammerite fortress. The breakout at Cragscleft on the first day of the Spring Festival, carefully denied by the Hammerite Order set Swayle back on the trail of his putative father. With his murderous allies he wreaked a revenge upon the family he could never fully be a part of. But even if this speculation is true it is only part of the story.
Item: The missing jewel is itself similar in appearance to a jewel that was stolen from the ancient and mysterious clock that is at the center of the oldest part of the inhabited city. Its precise functions? It's mystical properties? UNKNOWN.
Item: Michael Farina was a known pickpocket in the Newmarket district, having been sent to Cragscleft on such a charge only two months before. He was never known to have any experience or connections in the area of jewel theft or sales. The lead investigating officer on the Silvanus case was a sergeant whose beat encompassed Newmarket and who was known to squeeze Newmarket proprietors for protection money. Farina "confessed" to the crime after being arrested, and no other evidence of the crime exists.
Item: The Silvanus case was handled by Judge Eliot Norell, who often took bribes of sex and money in order to hand down suitable decisions. The casefile is missing any notes of the proceedings except for the facts that have already been listed. There is no evidence presented at all in that file and Judge Norell has refused comment.
IMPORTANT ITEM: The officer that handled the Silvanus case was Sergeant Edward Conroy, assisted by Sergeant Mason. Mason is now the Sherriff. Conroy is now a Captain. Captain Conroy was on the scene directing the investigation of the Haley massacre.
Is it coincidence that a Guardsman so intimately involved with the disposal of one of the Haley family's dark secrets should be on the scene when it came back to haunt them? Could it be coincidence that the guard has resisted inquiry into these matters? That the court file could be expurgated so thouroughly, even though it denies the craftsmen at Silvanus & Sons their justice? Let us assume that it is an innocent coincidence, for there is still more to arouse the suspicion of the attentive citizen.
ITEM: The house of Rosalyn Swayle was, sometime after the Haley killing, assaulted in a similar fashion - the knives from the kitchen missing and signs of a struggle in her bedroom. Her body was found by the Hammerite order in their patrols of the Olde Quarter, recently stepped up - perhaps to quietly search for the escapees. Manner of death? Repeatedly stabbed with many different knives. She was tortured before death, but for how long none can say, as animals had torn the flesh of her body. Her corpse was delivered to the Digger where an unnamed benefactor paid for her internment in the Bonehoard. Perhaps one of her former clients harbors an affection for her? Or perhaps they fear that absent the honorable burial of a Bonehoard grave, her spirit will haunt them...FOREVER!!
All of these factors taken together spell out a twisted tale of greed and revenge, which only diligent investigation has any hope of uncovering. These were no coincidences! THE SINISTER WEB OF MURDER AND CORRUPTION CLOSES TIGHTER AROUND THE CITY! WHO WILL BE STRUCK NEXT? This investigation the Olde Quarter Courier pledges to take to the very end!
This ship, nameless, moved towards the dock owned by Victor Brinmore, a known whoremonger. There it disgorged quietly its awful cargo - girls and women, ranging in age from perhaps 9 to perhaps 20, clapped in chains for no more crime than being beautiful...a crime many of our own city's women have committed. One by one they crossed the shaky gangplank, filthy and desperate to be free of the rat-infested confines of the slaver.
But then, violence erupted. Fire arrows rained down on the dock, the night sky suddenly split with gouts of explosive flame and cries of alarm and attackers poured from a nearby street - attackers sent by Warden Spenser to destroy the dealings of underboss Kingsley (see page 2). The bloody fracas continued for some time, Brinmore's sailors locked in mortal battle with the enforcers of the kingpin's deadly will. One man wielded an immense great-axe, and as smoke filled the air from the crashing of the fire arrows, he swung it with tremendous and deadly force. Others held saps, blade and bow. Arrows flew, the cries of the wounded flew up from the docks. Finally the attackers were repulsed and the "cargo" of the slave ship was loaded onto two carts, bound for the manse on the southeast corner of 65th Street and Covington. The panic of the slaves was quelled and silenced by guards with naked steel and savage beatings, who rode on the back of the carts and accompanied them on their hurried journey through the darkened streets.