(http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/anIrishlad/bab4e793-b373-4e82-a5a9-a80abc177e8c_zps7efe4b7f.jpg) (http://s142.photobucket.com/user/anIrishlad/media/bab4e793-b373-4e82-a5a9-a80abc177e8c_zps7efe4b7f.jpg.html)<br/><br/><strong>Pointed Eared Savages Butcher Another Family!</strong><br/><br/>Theo studied the bold, giant letters at the top of the handbill he was reading, as he leaned his back against the railing of SS Flying Greyhound. Little over a day ago, the steamship had passed by the SS Spur, which had sailed from Rafast, capital of the Aiijan colonies. Passengers and sailors from both ships were eager for news and the two ships had come along one another, allowing the crews to trade newspapers, handbills and stories. This exchanged had been a wealth of current knowledge and current options from the colonies, or at least it was to the senior detective, from the Ticknor Detective Agency.<br/><br/>Or so he thought at first.<br/><br/>It seemed the Yellow Press was strong in the colonies. Each newspaper and circular had bold headlines about atrocities, with vivid drawings beneath, of some terrible deed, committed upon the humans now settling along the Aiijan coast. Either that, or the Elvanti who lived there were among the worst murdering barbarians the world had ever known. Still, there was some truth to be gleaned from along the pages, there had to be something happening along the frontier to cause all of these stories about attacks by native raiders.<br/><br/>When Theo finished his stack, he set the rather worthless papers down on the deck and gently lifted the round spectacles from his face. With a careful ease, strange to see from a man with scarred hands, he folded the thin wire frames  and tucked them away in a stout leather case, which was slipped into a pocket. Frowning, he stared out across the blue of the ocean, towards the far green-brown of the coast, which was growing clearer, as the Flying Greyhound drew close to her destination. Pulling out his pipe, he packed the bowl with pinch of tobacco and clenched the bit between his teeth. Blue eyes focused on the bowl for a moment before smoke began to rise and he began to puff.<br/><br/>The Ticknor stood in his shirtsleeves. It had been too warm for the past few days, of this two and a half week voyage, to wear his coat. The sailors had laughed at him one day, as he sat on deck, nearly sweating to death, trying to remain properly dressed and had told him it was cool at sea, just wait until he made landfall. So he had abandoned the wool coat, at least for now and even just wearing his waistcoat, he could feel a little sweat trickling down his spine. What a hellish country this Aiijan Coast.<br/><br/>----------<br/><br/>Things were not so peaceful in the Governor's Mansion, in the middle of Rafast. Patrols had reported more burned farms, which always upset Governor Bernard Hughes but with the weeks of reports and pressure upon him, it was driving the poor man man with panic. An old man now, fat with years of easy living, he had once thought his success was set in stone. He had arrived with the first colonists, back when there were separate Rucain colonies along the Aiijan  Coast, using his wealth and influence over the years for condense them into a single colony, under his rule. Now though, it would seem history would only remember him as the man who lost one of the richest colonies for the Republic.<br/><br/>Governor Hughes had spent most of the morning haranguing and harassing his staff, demanding someone do something about the raiders or wanting to know of the help the Home Office had promised had arrived yet. Of course nothing his civilian staff could say or do, could do anything to sooth the old man, in fact they only turned his panic and fears into a towering rage. Which was had lead the governor to call in Colonel Lloyd Morrissy, of the 12th Regiment of Foot, for a two hour ranting about how the current crisis was all the military’s officer’s fault, for not protecting the frontier.<br/><br/>The Colonel had taken it in a stoic silence but it had left the commander of the Colony’s defenses in a foul mood, when he had sent for Captain Matthaus Lawson and several of his best scouts from the Sulenia Native Contingent, along with a section from his regiment. Ticknor Detectives were supposedly arriving by steamship today and he wanted his addition to the expedition beyond the frontier ready to move, once the Ticknors were here. As the clock struck noonday bells, they should have gathered in the courtyard parade ground of the Regimental Barrack.<br/><br/><br/><br/>(interested in joining? Please see the OOC (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=216942.0)