It was a sunny afternoon. The day "they" first arrived an the lives of every man woman and child changed forever. No one thought to question why they arrived -- it wouldn't be polite, and the town was proud of its reputation for politeness. Though the suits didn't share the same civility as the townspeople, with their fancy whizzy-majigs and austere expressions, they've been probing up and down the town, from Nettle Creek down to Arnswood, looking—though no one quite knew for what. And what's worse? They’d made themselves at home without asking. No manners. Absolutely no manners at all.
This went on until the person called Night appeared in town. After the people in suits arrived so rudely, the townspeople had become wary of newcomers in a way that clashed with their natural politeness, but Night proved to be much, much different from the Suits. Night H. Wojack was a portly man with a neat beige vest, gold-rimmed glasses, and the air of an aristocratic nobleman. He was always sensitive about the strange foreign necklace he always wore, which he claimed was a gift from an African chieftain during his gold diggings in Edaaba.
Mr. Crest, the owner of the town's most bustling (and only) pub and eating establishment, was the first to have a proper conversation with Night H. Wojack and found the man to be eccentric, but undeniably friendly. However, his eyes, something very strange about his eyes they seemed to be seeing much more than just the physical world.
"I've noticed the visitors," said Night to Mr. Crest, although Mr. Crest couldn't see how Night H. Wojack (being so new himself) might be able to tell the rude suit-wearing newcomers from the regular citizens -- perhaps it was the rudeness itself that set them apart. Or perhaps Mr. Knight H Wojak knew more that he was telling.
Night huffed indignantly at his companion's rising eyebrows. "Well, isn't it obvious? They've been botherin' me with search warrants and all kinds of nonsense! Last time I checked, the only slight I’ve given the government is a damn parking ticket, eh? Though, I guess there's the Daubentonia horde stampede incident..."
"Well, I don't know anything about that," said Mr. Crest with a dubious look, "but you're right, sir -- those suits have made a nuisance of themselves ever since they arrived, about four months before you did."
Mean while, in the mist covered mountains just east of town alone..looking on at all the suspicious going on on the town below stood the long lean dark skinned and flowing white beard of an elderly yet fit figure holding a staff, it was none other than chief Killahmassah of the Edaaba tribe. He looked on with a severe expression, muttering something under his breath. "The time has come," he finally muttered. And with that, chief Killahmassah raised his arms staff in hand and looked to the sky, he call aloud in a booming voice " Evigilare Faciatis " ( awaken in latin ) an then lowered his staff and pointed it in the direction of " The Mad Hatter " the only pub/eatery in the town of Long Night; just then all the hats on the walls which was customary for Mr. crest to take as decoration to adorn the walls of the establishments in lieu of its name began to rattle an shake as Mr Crest felt a chill go up his spine and the ancient necklace warn by Mr. Knight H. Wojas began to glow red with heat smoldering and searing the flesh about his neck. Mr. Crest immediately asked people to call for Mr. Night H. Wojak.
To be continued...
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