The Mousehunter

Prologue

Welcome to Old Town

The night had been quiet so far, only three bodies to speak of, and none of them carried anything of worth to Mr Droob. It was a bad night's work if fewer than ten washed ashore, and to bide his time he sat quietly spying the river, rubbing his hands to keep warm.

At the riverside, the Pirate's Wharf gibbet creaked and swayed in the breeze; the last remains of its long-dead pirate struggling to cling to its irons. Mr Droob watched the thin fog roll off the water, enveloping the dying glow of the street lamps. He saw his assistant leap up to ring the warning bell: another body approached.

"We got one!" shouted the assistant.

Mr Droob strode down to the river, buttoning his jacket on the way. His assistant waited silently as the body floated nearer. In his arm rested a long hooked pole, and with a looping stretch he dropped it onto the body. It caught at the waist, and he pulled it in.

"Looks like a sailor," grumbled Mr Droob, spotting the body's blue flared trousers and grubby, blood-stained striped shirt.

With a stomach-churning groan, his assistant took hold of the bloated, lifeless body and dragged it up the bank. Its rotting stink followed soon after, and Mr Droob sealed his mouth and nose with his palm. With little ceremony he picked over the corpse, checking for finds. There seemed nothing of any worth, no pocket watch, knife or coins, but tied to the man's neck was a small wooden box.

"Now this looks interesting," he said, picking it up and shaking it. There was something inside - light, yet solid. "Bring us the light here, man.",

His assistant lifted up a dimly glowing lamp, allowing Mr Droob to inspect a metal plate on the box's side. There was an inscription, carved in scratchily written letters, and Mr Droob's eyes sparkled when he read its words.

"Well, well, well," said Mr Droob. "We might eat tomorrow, yet!"