Compiled from reports filed with the Royal Constabulary of Eyehasseen.
1. Midnight Disturbance at the Cemetery Gate
Residents near Saint Bartram’s Cemetery reported muffled hammering after midnight. Constables discovered a gravedigger repairing a gate hinge by lantern light — and, more curiously, a recently disturbed grave that did not correspond to any official burial record. The workman swore “on his shovel” that the soil was “already loose.” The Constabulary sealed the site and summoned the Office of Mortuary Affairs. Investigation ongoing; public advised to avoid the north side path after dusk.
2. Disappearance of a Door-to-Door Philosopher
A traveling moralist from Port Elden vanished somewhere between two taverns in Inverness. His satchel of pamphlets titled “The Uselessness of Material Things” was found neatly stacked beside the canal, weighted with coins. Several witnesses recall a “tall woman in mourning dress” walking with him moments before he disappeared. Police divers have recovered only a bowler hat and a soggy notebook containing the phrase, “I think, therefore I sink.”
3. Riot of the Clockmakers
The Guild of Horologists staged a spontaneous protest outside the Ministry of Industry after the government proposed a “Daylight Adjustment Act” shortening the workday by six minutes. Shouting “Time belongs to no man!”, the clockmakers hurled pocket watches into the fountain until it overflowed with gears and springs. Several participants were arrested for disorderly conduct and unlicensed tinkering. The Ministry has since postponed the Act “pending a cooling-off period.”
4. A Curious Theft at the Museum of Natural Oddities
Security staff discovered the glass case containing the famed “Two-Headed Badger of Wyevale” smashed in the night. A trail of sawdust and biscuit crumbs led to the service alley, where the creature’s taxidermied heads were found separated and reposed neatly atop a crate of ale. The curator, distraught, has posted a 5-aureal reward “for the prompt return of the rest of the badger.” Suspicion falls upon a local brewer known for collecting “conversation pieces.”
5. The Case of the Silent Music Hall
Performers at the Marigold Theatre arrived to find every piano string in the orchestra pit cut clean through. The only clue: a calling card bearing a single word — “Harmony.” No signs of forced entry, though witnesses describe a tall figure in evening dress entering through the stage door the night before, carrying what appeared to be a tuning fork “the size of a sabre.” The Constabulary’s Bureau of Musical Crimes has taken over the investigation.