Insanity's Crown - Prologue

This is the brief introduction to a Providence game I am currently running. This is not related to the Providence Weekly story post that I promised, but it is set in the same time frame and in the same geographical location. 

Insanity’s Crown -  Prologue

            Too late and to their sorrow do those who put their trust in Gods find that trust misplaced.

Lord Garret had a good view of Remienburg. It wasn’t what other Lords wanted in a window view to work by, as a combination of trade, industry and poor planning had make the sky around the city typically grey. He watched passively from his oak chair as the refinery belched another cloud of ash, while mine carts were slowly fed into its’ gaping maw.

“Captain Mord,” he said without turning.

“Sir,” the Captain replied.

“I notice that there are fewer miners working today,” Garret said with an air of feigned ignorance.

“Sir,” the Captain replied again.

“Why is that, Captain?”

Mord scratched his chin. “Ill, Sir” he said at last.

“Indeed.” Garret stood, his thin frame barely filling the width of the window. “Determine ‘Ill’ Captain.”

Mord’s brow wrinkled, and stood in silence for a few minutes.

In Garret’s opinion, Mord had been a real find; the half-orc appeared mostly human, save for the height, muscle and fangs, and best of all, he didn’t think. Not that he was stupid; Mord knew and understood many concepts that Garret admitted he could never grasp, like how to strangle a lion in just the right place, or where to kick the door to deal the least damage to your foot. Mord did not think, he merely did. He was completely honest all of the time, because the idea of saying anything but the facts never occurred to him. He did things, and that’s why they happened, and that’s how they get done. When Lord Garret had promoted Mord to Captain of the City Watch, the criminal masterminds laughed at the simpleton Captain in the shadows. Suddenly, they found their heads lining the battlements of Remienburg.

“The workers are being poisoned, Mord,” Lord Garret said patiently, his back still turned. “The wells are clean, or we’d all be dead. The brewery is not responsible, Mr. Mallory is very careful with his ales. What do you think, Mord?”

            “Er,” Mord said, wishing for death.

            “The river Antioc, Mord” Garret said, as he slowly approached his desk. “See these reports; the farms and steads on the river have been producing less grain for years now. What else sits on the river, Mord?”

            “Skinner’s Mining Co.” Mord replied swiftly. Buildings he could do. He could relate.

            “Correct. Where are the miners of Remienburg employed?”

            “Skinner’s Mining Co.”

            “Good work Mord.”

            Light dawned on Mord’s face. “Sir, the Watch can’t investigate the mine, s’private property.”

            Garret smiled and the half-orc shifted uncomfortably in his place. The Lord’s grin was humourless, and sat on his face like a hairline crack.

            “This” Garret continued, handing the Captain a small scroll bearing his seal, “is a warrant for the investigation of Skinner’s Mining Co. Don’t press them if there are any locked doors, bits of paper missing or persons miraculously on holiday. Instead, keep a record of them, will you?”

            “Yessir. Understood sir” Mord replied.

            And there it was. He understood. This was his job, and this was all that was needed to be done, with no trimmings.

            “I expect this report by the end of the day,” Garret said, returning to his seat. “Remember, do not arrest or harass Mr Skinner.”

            “Understood sir.”

            “And fetch me Diviner Blaking, I have a few messages to deliver.”

            “Yessir. Anyone I know sir?” Mord asked, his bright-eyed grin betraying his relief.

            Lord Garret leant back into the hard wood. The sun was rising behind the smog, now. “I don’t think so,” he answered after a while. “The Inquisition, and a certain someone from Kingway Heights.

            “Hur hur, good one sir, you always make me chuckle sir.”

            So honest, Garret thought as Mord left hurriedly, it bordered on painful.