The #Broken_Dagger Forum

Sometimes losing a wife isn't enough.

Sometimes someone just has to go out and burn down your toy shop while you're out of town with your new wife, too.

"Tready's Toys" burnt to the ground during the night, the very apparent victim of arson. At least nothing else was hurt, thanks to the snow acting as something of a barrier between shops.

Poor Tready.

Poor Tready indeed.

As the well known merchant surveyd the burnt down building she was dead set on finding out who would do such a thing, and why they might do it.

She above all people knew the sneak that Treadwell could be. What sort of business deals had he gotten into that would cause someone to burn down a toy shop?

She would get to the bottom of this. However first Treadwell would need to be notified and she knew nothing better to cheer up her old friend then a gift basket of fine chesses and smokey salt pork. All of which was sent off after her day to seeing to other business in the center of the market.

Poor Treadwell.

Treadwell's luck wasn't always disfavourable however. There were the occassional individuals who actually sought to provide him with some unsought comforts. A lengthly period of time ago, he'd received a new cane to replace one lost in a battle.

Now a new package arrived relatively late during the chilly afternoon. This one a good deal bulkier than previously. This was primarily due to the fact there was little desire to ruin the feathers that addorned the peculiar outfit. It had taken a fair amount of effort, to recover sufficient feathers from a certain bird, to provide some authenticity to the clothing.

The fit would not be perfect of course. A little loose here, a bit tight there. Wearable of course, though a bit of touch up work might be desired by the new owner of the outfit, if he sought a perfectly comfortable fit. If he just wanted a new suit though, it would do admirably.

A naked Treadwell stood in his bathroom and stared at the big yellow chicken suit--no, costume!--that he held in front of himself. Somewhere between being puzzled and giddy, Tready found himself squirming into the thing with many a giggle. As the last of the yellow buttons were pushed tight, Treadwell made a discovery. . . .

It almost fit. A little burst of wintry magic--chilly, yes, but perfectly normal for him, now--appropriately resized the thing, and there Aloisius Treadwell stood, looking very much like a big, obese, yellow-feathered, orangey-beaked and legged chicken from head to toe. There was, of course, a sufficient hole for his face (although that big orange beak did hang down quite beautifully and floppily over his pudgy shnozz), and his hands fit wonderfully inside the ends of his "wings." His feet were even appropriately covered with tough, durable leather fashioned into a good copy of chicken feet and dyed something between orange and goldenrod.

Ahhhhhh. With another giddy sort of giggle, Treadwell started shuffling 'round his house, getting used to the feathers sticking up at his rump and the new delightfully snug fit of the suit. Leave it to Treadwell to enjoy this. Leave it to Treadwell to consider making an appearance in town as such.

There seems to be a small rumor going around..that a young boy named Timmy saw the toy store burn to the ground. So far, Myrkentown has been unable to figure out which Timmy out of many is the one, but this may be something Treadwell wishes to investigate...

Standing there...upon the porch of the property he had only recently placed a sizeable deposit upon....surveying the new surroundings for the first time...The pale one had allowed his gaze to travel across the iced over waters of the lake...the home on the opposite shore within his line of vision....While a great many thoughts worked their way through the quiet one's mind, they affected little his observational focus...

A single brow raised as a flash of bright yellow could be seen from a gap in the window coverings of the home across the water...The colour disappeared only to return in a few moments...the strangeness of the vision causing a momentary confusion for Darkfall...

Dark eyes remained focused thereon as he wondered what manner of tricks his mind might be playing upon him...A shake of his head offered at the consideration...

With a weary sigh, the young sergeant studdied her notes again. There seemed to be many rumours running about regarding the fire at the Councillor's toy shop. The boy, Timmy and another reported eye-witness were still nowhere to be found from what McWilliams could tell and she was beginning to doubt either of them actually existed.

Perhaps, it would be in better interest for her to start back at the beginning. Right. That settled it. Jotting a note in the upper left corner of the parchment.. she would go talk to Treadwell again soon.

The chicken suit had made a fun and funny impression, even if it'd earned Treadwell a couple puzzled looks from those in town. A magical mishap that resulted in icing over the inn's interior and briefly turning Tready into a full-grown Treadchicken, though, has caused him to reconsider wearing it everywhere. Maybe just a couple more days of it out in public, though? He still has to find out who sent the thing to him, and why.

With an eager pen Isobella sits in her room that night, hurriedly writing about the strange thing that she had seen in the inn. In all her travels she had never seen a man in a chicken suit... especially one that actually became a chicken! If anyone ever got ahold of this journal they would likely think her daft solely on the basis of this one entry. As she reads it over she can hardly believed it happened. What a strange man that Treadwell is!