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Prologue:

The New Walled Sector sprang up overnight. United in a common goal, both Hammerite and Mechanist laboured side by side to contain the Gas which bled from the corpse of Soulforge. Only when the last of the brick and iron was secured did anyone think of the unfortunate souls on the Wrong Side of the Barricade.

Many prayers were uttered that night, on both sides of the New Wall. Not one was answered...

In the morning, all Hell broke loose in the City. Mechanists and Hammerites fought in the streets, each determined to destroy the other. The Watch, under the leadership of the hastily-promoted Mosley, was mobilised with orders to reclaim control by any means necessary. Martial Law was declared, and anyone found on the streets was subject to immediate arrest and incarceration. By evening, Shoalsgate was filled beyond capacity, and makeshift detention centers were established wherever there was room for them. Sheriff Mosley issued a public announcement that, unless the Watch had control of the City by dawn, any person caught in the possession of a weapon or discovered wearing emblems of either the Hammer or the Machine would be executed on the spot.

And at dawn, there were three factions slaughtering each other in the streets.

Never one to overstay my welcome, I've decided to wait out the City's madness in a small hamlet some twenty miles north: a damp, miserable little mining town called Moth. With any luck, I'd be able to stay with an old ally, a man named Brunnen who now runs a boarding house for travellers. Should be a nice change of pace.

Brunnen was very accomodating. It's wonderful what a bit of threatened blackmail can accomplish. He's established himself as a reputable man in Moth: No one suspects his past, and he is eager to keep it that way. The ignorance of the Moth Town Watch enables him to continue his fencing operations without fear of arrest. Besides, I think my arrival has stirred the Old Man's blood to thoughts of excitement again. As soon as I saw him, I knew this town was beginning to bore him to tears.

I had been in Moth precisely eleven days when Brunnen came to my room with two very peculiar men. I had barely left the building in all that time, and it felt strange to have company. Especially company as strange as these two.

They looked alike, dressed alike, and even spoke as if they had but one mind between them. The Fence introduced them as Idmon and Mopsus, Moth's resident Seers, before taking his leave.

"Mr. Garrett," began one of the Seers. "We are told that you are a man of..."

"...remarkable talent," finished his brother. "It is precisely that sort of man that we require."

"I don't know what Brunnen told you," I scowled. "I think you gentlemen have been misinformed. I'm just a shopkeeper. I sell clothing to Noblemen and their wives. If it's clothing you want..."

Idmon (or maybe it was Mopsus) cut me off. "Do you take us for fools, sir?" he barked. "The village idiot wouldn't imagine you to be a tailor. You have the look of a criminal, Mr. Garrett, and a very practiced one at that."

"Besides," said the other, "it isn't likely that Mr. Brunnen consorts with clothiers. There isn't much profit in stolen trousers."

"You'd be surprised," I offered. "Depends what's in the pockets."

One of them pulled a purse from his belt. It sagged heavily, and I could smell the gold inside. A sweet metallic perfume reached my nostrils, and I grinned like a cat as I decided to take the bait. I motioned for the brothers to sit.

"Alright," I said. "I'll hear you out. But I'm not admitting to being anything other than a tailor, you understand?"

"Perfectly," Mopsus assured me.

"We are looking for a good...tailor," said Idmon, with a wink.

"Just so we understand each other, then," I said, offering them some wine. "Well, then, gentlemen...Let's discuss the latest fashions..."

When the Seers had left, I sat for a long time in the light of the fire, idly transfering the heavy purse from one hand to another, savouring the weight of it. This had been a very interesting meeting, indeed.

It seems that the Captain of the Moth Town Watch had met a strange fate while serving as the Personal Bodyguard of a visiting Noblewoman. The Seers told me he was found yesterday morning by the Household Staff, quite dead, and with two arrows protruding from his neck. The Second-in-Command, one Lieutenant Janelle Torrion, conducted a rather cursory investigation, and concluded that the Captain had accidentally shot himself while oiling his bow.

Needless to say, the other Watchmen are not satisfied with this description of the event, and have asked the local Seers for help in determining the truth. Torrion was called to Broadmoor by the Board of Directors this morning, and the Watch wants this matter settled before she returns. They suspect her of covering something up, and if that turns out to be the case there may be a Mutiny in the works.

I don't usually like to involve myself in other people's problems, especially not those of the local constabulary, but the truth is I'm sick of staring at these four walls and waiting for the chaos to die down in the City. The Seers have already given me a ridiculous amount of money, and promised me twice as much more upon completion, and this seems like such a simple job that I would be a fool to pass this opportunity up.

All I have to do is get into the Hotel where the Captain was assigned, find the crime scene, look for clues, and get out again.

But I can't shake the feeling that something about this isn't exactly on-the-level...