[CENTER][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/314e05be-6f69-47ee-9543-5bbc310ccd84.jpg[/img][/CENTER]
[center][h1][color=#7D5CB3]Wulde Riddenhouse[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][color=black][sup]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]
[center][color=#812442][b]Location:  [/b][/color] South Halcyon Friends Meeting House [color=#812442][b]Time:   [/b][/color] Night[/center]
[center][color=#812442][b]Interactions:  [@JJ Doe]Zachariah Reed[/b][/color] n/a [color=#812442][b]Mentions:  N/A[/b][/color] n/a[/center]
[center][color=black][sup]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/color][/center]


Wulde was in the breakroom back at the South Halcyon Friends Meeting House, drinking lukewarm coffee, when he finally decided to look at the message.  A furtive buzz on his phone had announced its receipt a couple hours back, while he had been in the middle of inspecting the charred remnants in the warehouse; however, for obvious reasons, he had ignored it at the time.

He had the breakroom to himself now.  Wallace was still at the front desk.  Barton was in a classroom, napping on a makeshift palette of commandeered rest mats.  Lieutenant Grant was in the church’s library [i]cum[/i] media center, poring over Wulde’s bodycam footage and photographs.  The other Wardens were headed back to the Bastion in the crew van, taking with them the meager bits of physical evidence he had bagged inside the warehouse:  a couple air samples and surface swabs, the charred remnants of a chair leg, a discarded end piece of thornsteel rope, and a single tooth.  

Wulde had found that tooth by the foot of a shelf rack a good thirty feet away from the burn site; most likely it had been tossed or kicked there after being knocked from its owner’s head.  It was generally clear what had happened at the warehouse:  somebody had been bundled there the previous night, tortured, and killed.  That mostly answered three out of the five W’s.  Hopefully, the tooth would help the Bastion figure out the who.  Most of the senior Iron Fangs had shown their faces to Wallace’s spy cameras outside the warehouse this evening; the Wardens needed to figure out who was missing. 

And now, here in his inbox, was another mystery:  an unexpected message from Zachariah Reed, cryptically entitled “Business Proposition”.  The idea that Reed might have a proposal for Wulde was not unusual in principle:  their professional interests overlapped over the field of forensic accounting.  Yet the particulars and circumstances of this message were baffling.

[color=#00ced1] “Due to unforeseen circumstances, I need to step back from day-to-day operations at Reed Financial indefinitely.”[/color]  That was vague and ominous.  Obviously, something both big and sudden must have happened in Zachariah’s life for him to make such a drastic decision so abruptly.  Was he ill?  In legal trouble?  In love?

And he was asking Wulde to take over everything.  Did Reed have no other second in command he could hand the reins to?  Apparently not.  So not only was he making a big life change quickly, he was now ask Wulde to do the same.  Could he even do this?

He puffed out his cheeks and set his phone down atop the notes he had taken of his own debriefing with Lieutenant Grant.  He leaned back as much as he dared in the folding chair and looked up at the wall, his eyes landing on a placard that bore that famous quote from Niebuhr’s "Serenity Prayer".  He chuckled mirthlessly as he read it, contemplating how it commented on his current situation.  [i]Serenity, courage, and wisdom indeed[/i].  A bit more helpful, perhaps than those dubiously motivational slogans he had seen moldering on the warehouse walls earlier, but not by much.

Wulde Riddenhouse had a lot of questions for Zachariah Reed, questions he would only get answered if he agreed to meet with the guy.  Thus, while his final decision about the “business proposal” might prove difficult and weighty, his immediate next step was obvious.

He picked up his phone again, but then paused, considering. [color=#00ced1] “Time is unfortunately a factor”,[/color] Zachariah had written.  Vague and ominous again.  But Wulde couldn’t just up and leave right now.  First, Grant might still have questions for him; second, his ride was taking a nap.  After a moment he typed:

[color=#ffd700] Re:  Business Proposition.

Zachariah,

This is indeed a large and unusual request, suddenly made.  I have many questions to ask, and things to consider.  I expect to be tied up for the next couple hours, but should be able to make time after that.  I want to talk to you about this, so name a time and a place.

Wulde[/color]

He set his phone down once more, then got up to recharge his coffee cup.  He had the wisdom to know that all he could do now was wait, and the serenity to accept that.