Murloc Holmes and the Murder at Castle Nathria

Sounds of CRACKLING CAMPFIRE, DISTANT HOWLS, and SCREECHING of DANGEROUS FOREST CREATURES. Our spooky narrator begins:

NARRATOR

Welcome, friends and fiends. Are you ready to shiver at another spine-tingling tale? Then you’re in luck... or NOT.

(evil chuckle)

Hold fast to your courage as you listen to the story of...

LIGHTNING and CRASH OF THUNDER!

NARRATOR

Murder... at Castle Nathria.

DRAMATIC ORGAN MUSIC crescendos.

NARRATOR

Ah, Castle Nathria. A dangerous place, where ruthless eyes gawk in the night. Where even the most powerful cannot reverse the implacable turn of the dark wheels of fate. And where it is generally unwise to accept party invitations delivered by gargoyles.

OMINOUS MUSIC swells.

INT: The Great Hall. WE HEAR the sounds from a party—murmurs, clinking glasses, appropriate music.

NARRATOR

After his dinner party guests had assembled in the Great Hall, Sire Denathrius, the Master of Revendreth, raised a golden goblet of red, misty anima—perhaps blissfully unaware that he had invited his worst nemeses!

CLINK, CLINK; the sound of a fork tapping on metal. The crowd goes quiet.

DENATHRIUS

Welcome to my humble home! I know all are eager to become better acquainted over a grand feast and harmless, innocent parlor games. For instance, I myself wonder... What did each of you hope for by accepting my invitation? Riches? Knowledge? The cachet of being seen with me? Or perhaps you have heard vile rumors that I, Sire Denathrius, have been ruthlessly hoarding anima! True, it is heady and intoxicating... frighteningly good... and makes you powerful beyond—

DENATHRIUS coughs, realizing he is about to prove the rumors true.

DENATHRIUS

But as I was saying, I hope tonight will be an evening you’ll never forget. I have a few final touches to prepare for the evening’s festivities. Please—explore my home till you are summoned for dinner.

Denathrius’s HOOFSTEPS fade into the distance.

A door slams shut.

NARRATOR

While the guests were confused by their host’s departure, they took the Sire’s suggestion, and for some time wandered about the castle and its grounds... all by themselves...

when suddenly—

The CRASH of a goblet. Sound of the anima wafting upward like a soft wind.

A shrill scream from STEWART.

STEWART

Help, help! Sire Denathrius has been murdered!

Dramatic music!

INT: Dining Hall

NARRATOR

It was true—Denathrius, the Sire, lay on the floor of the dining hall. How the mighty have fallen! The ten guests—every one of them now suspects—all gathered around.

Running feet and hooves, slamming doors, gasps of surprise.

NARRATOR

But who had done this dreadful deed?

The mysterious broker, Artificer Xy’Mox?

XY’MOX

Ah, he was so good for business.

NARRATOR

The ethereal with the spot-on title of Archvillain Rafaam?

RAFAAM

My very good and dear friend Sire Donatrio, noooo!

NARRATOR

The orcish baroness, Draka

DRAKA

(scoffs, sarcastic) Clearly, you were very close to him, Rafaam.

NARRATOR

Or two others who hailed from Maldraxxus—

Decimator Olgra, another orc, who had come on a mission?

OLGRA

He can’t be dead! I needed... something from him.

NARRATOR

Perhaps it was Baroness Vashj, the naga,

who, like Draka, was formerly of the House of Spies?

LADY VASHJ

(sarcastic) Who could possibly have wanted him dead?

NARRATOR

Or was it the Sire’s ally, the power-hungry lich Kel’Thuzad?

KEL’THUZAD

I am devastated and outraged! How could you be so careless, Denathrius? Now NONE of our schemes are going to be hatched.

RAFAAM

(whispering in a sympathetic tone)

I think you said the quiet part out loud.

NARRATOR

Could the killer be one of the two visitors from Ardenweald, the sylvar Ara’lon or Sesselie the tirnenn?

ARA’LON

What a tragic turn.

SESSELIE

(rustling their leafy hair)

I cannot say our queen will be... un-happy...

NARRATOR

Surely it couldn’t have been the kindly kyrian invitee, Pelagos?

PELAGOS

Such events are always tragic, but he was not the nicest person... was he?

NARRATOR

It definitely wasn’t the loyal steward, Stewart. Or was it?

STEWART

(softly crying)Hooo, hoooo... Poor Sire... hooo...

NARRATOR

The guests all stared at one another with suspicion:

someone here... was a killer.

Not long after the accusations started to fly, there was a flash of lightning!

KRAKA-THOOM!

NARRATOR

And a rumble of thunder!

BOOOOOM!

NARRATOR

And the front doors were flung open!

Smash of the doors swinging open hard.

NARRATOR

In the doorway stood a figure. Small, but mighty.

One to give hope to the innocent and strike fear in the hearts of the guilty. It was none other than that great detective—

MURLOC HOLMES

MRMGGGGGRRRLLLLEEE!

NARRATOR

Murloc Holmes! Yes, it was he himself,

and his friend and colleague, Dr. Watfin.

DR. WATFIN

<CROAKS>

NARRATOR

Everyone gasped!

Exaggerated, nigh-simultaneous gasps.

NARRATOR

Like the master detective he is, Holmes took control of the room at once. The suspects were instructed not to leave while he examined the body.

Underneath the following, Holmes is mrrglling, as if saying the things attributed to him.

NARRATOR

Holmes found it curious that he could unearth nothing to indicate the cause of death. He asked the Sire’s servants to remove the body, then he drew a chalk outline on the floor. He must discover whodunnit before he could discover... howdunnit. Where were the suspects at the time of the murder?

ARA’LON

I was in the Kennels.

SESSELIE

The Maze.

LADY VASHJ

The Muck Pools.

DRAKA

The Sinstone Cemetery.

NARRATOR

The game was afoot! Holmes decided to begin his investigation at the locations outside the castle. The first stop... the Kennels.

EXT: THE KENNELS. Terrible SOUNDS of the gargon hounds (living stone beasts) in the Kennels.

ARA’LON

Huntsman Altimor wasn’t here, so he cannot vouch for me.

But the gargon hounds can.

The terrible sounds of threat turn to equally terrible sounds of affectionate greeting.

ARA’LON

(warmly) Hello again, friends. May I pet your dog too, Draka?

DEATHFANG’s three heads all growl.

DRAKA

No. (to Murloc) Where to next, Mr. Holmes?

NARRATOR

So many suspects...so many sites. What clues might the great detective find in his effort to solve the murder? Perhaps Draka was eager to distract him from something important. It was time to investigate her alibi...and visit the sinister Sinstone Cemetery.

NARRATOR

Detective Murloc Holmes has been interrogating the suspects and retracing their steps. His fins…er, feet?...have brought him to The Sinstone Cemetery, home to tortured souls and stoneborn beasts. A place where someone plotting the murder of Sire Denathrius might well choose to lurk...someone like Baroness Draka?

EXT: SINSTONE CEMETERY. Footsteps. Wind in the trees. Deathfang digs and pants happily.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrrgle... mrflagggrl.

DRAKA

Yes, Mr. Holmes, the Sinstone Cemetery is muddy.

RAFAAM

Look! A clue! The footprints of a gigantic hound!

DRAKA

...those are Deathfang’s.

DEATHFANG woofs.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrg gligslrrgh graaa?

DRAKA

Some people, I’m sure, attended Denathrius’ dinner party for dishonorable reasons. So, I kept watch to see if anyone reentered the castle. Besides, it’s a good place for Deathfang to dig.

(to Deathfang, in a high, “I’m talking to my dog” voice)

Isn’t it? Who’s a good boy?

It’s DEATHFANG, and he knows it, all his heads making happy sounds.

NARRATOR

Holmes nodded, as if he knew something they didn’t.

They continued on, to the Muck Pools…to confirm Vashj’s alibi…

EXT: MUCK POOLS. Sounds of mud bubbles, trees creaking; soft sounds of swamp-dwelling creatures. Briskly striding feet come to a halt. Sound of VASHJ slithering up to speak.

NARRATOR

Ah, the Muck Pools, burbling birthplace of budding butlers…at least, dredger butlers. How easy it would be to drop a murder weapon into this putrid place, and let it rest forever undiscovered… Baroness Vashj certainly seemed fond of the location…but why?

LADY VASHJ

There—that’s the trail where I slithered in and out of the pools. Mud is SO good for the skin. Does no one else wish to take a quick dip?

DR. WATFIN

<Ribbit! Ribbit!>

MURLOC HOLMES

(annoyed with Dr. Watfin) MURGLE! Gribblegrumb.

LADY VASHJ

We’ll come back later, Dr. Watfin, when all this unpleasantness has been wrapped up.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrrgl glrr drrgle mur?

LADY VASHJ

It’s no secret that Draka and I—and others—suspected our host planned the destruction of the House of Eyes.

It’s Denathrius we’re talking about, after all.

MURLOC HOLMES

Hrrrmmmm...

NARRATOR

The strange little group continued to the Hedge Maze.

EXT: THE HEDGE MAZE

NARRATOR

It’s easy to get lost while wandering in a hedge maze, isn’t it? And so hard to find your way out…especially when the plants themselves don’t want you to…Perhaps Sesselie had been hoping to lure Denathrius into its dark heart…forever.

SESSELIE

Isn’t it beautiful?

PELAGOS

Yes... yes, of course, it is, ah... lovely.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrgll... grgll belach raaak?

SESSELIE

(sighs) Yes. I did attend on behalf of the Winter Queen.

She suspects Denathrius is behind the anima drought. I thought I would ask the Hedge plants if they knew anything, and... well, I got lost in conversation. The plants can vouch for me.

Creaking sounds from the Hedge.

SESSELIE

You see?

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrrrgl mrrgle... glorp.

SESSELIE

Oh. I wish you did understand them, because otherwise

I do not know how else to convince you!

MURLOC HOLMES

(pondering) Hrrrmmmmm...

NARRATOR

But was he convinced?

Only one location remained to explore outside the castle proper: the only place in Revendreth where a Bastion resident might feel comfortable enough to ponder...or, perhaps, plot.

NARRATOR

Revendreth hardly comes to mind when you think of cathedrals, does it? And yet, there it is...the Cathedral of Atonement. Once it was a symbol of Revendreth’s sincere mission to help save souls, but in recent times...well...not so much. Was it the noble past, or the unscrupulous present, that drew Pelagos here?

INT: Cathedral of Atonement. Inspirational, haunting music. The footsteps are slower, quieter.

PELAGOS

I regret to tell you, Mr. Holmes, no one accompanied me, or saw me here. I came to meditate on the rumors that Sire Denathrius was hoarding anima. That is all.

OLGRA

Is it? Then tell me... why did you choose the Cathedral of ATONEMENT, unless you had something to atone for?

PELAGOS

(pauses mockingly) Because it’s the only cathedral in Revendreth?

OLGRA

Oh. Never mind.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrggle mrrgl... blep ghaagh... Mrgle brakk bleargh?

PELAGOS

If Sire Denathrius truly did cause the anima drought...

and he confronted me... then, quite honestly...

I do not know what I would do.

MURLOC HOLMES

Hrrrmmm...

NARRATOR

With the grounds explored, it was time to return to Castle Nathria... and investigate what transpired within that dread place.

INT: THE KITCHEN. Sounds of fire crackling and cauldron bubbling.

NARRATOR

More specifically…within the kitchen. Kitchens are associated with nourishment, and warmth. Fellowship. They also have quite a lot of sharp knives, and boiling liquids, and fire, and—well, you get the idea.

LADY VASHJ

It seems like every party winds up in the kitchen, doesn’t it?

ARA’LON

(tired, to Murloc) Can’t you at least tell us if you’ve eliminated anyone thus far?

MURLOC HOLMES

Grrpp. Blearglgy ghaak mrugggle.

STEWART

Ara’lon looks tired. Would you like something soooothing?

Here, drink this! (extends gold goblet to Ara’lon)

MURLOC HOLMES

MGRLLRRRLG!!!! GLIBBLE BRRRAAAAK!

A slap... then the goblet CRASHES TO THE FLOOR.

Everyone gasps.

ARA’LON

Ow... that hurt my hand!

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrrrrrgggllle!!!

STEWART

Yes, I do indeed have holy spice in my kitchen! And yes, I am aware it is bad for venthyr like Sire. But I personalize goblets to be extra safe!

ARA’LON

He’s right. There’s a cute little medallion around the stem that says, “Ara’lon, this is for you... hooo.”

KEL’THUZAD

(accusingly) But, Stewart... I overheard you saying you had something special prepared for Sire Denathrius!

STEWART

Yes, yes! Here... smell!

MURLOC HOLMES

(sniffs) BLECK!!!!

STEWART

Yes, garlic! I am certain Mr. Holmes knows that it is harmless to venthyr such as Sire, who loves... loved... it... hooo...

MURLOC HOLMES

Hrmmm... glarby mrrrrglee... bek ghaaa? Ghaa blurgl?

KEL’THUZAD

I was in the Nightcloak Sanctum.

It’s a private room, but if you insist, Mr. Holmes...

INT: THE NIGHTCLOAK SANCTUM. Eerie music.

NARRATOR

The Nightcloak Sanctum. An exclusive place for private conversations...plans...plots...and also for safely stashing some darn fun things for wacky, wholesome fun!

KEL’THUZAD (cont.)

I may not be the nicest person, but I am loyal. After the toast, Denathrius asked me to come to the Sanctum and find something we would need for the after-dinner... conviviality. He said it was important.

(KEL’THUZAD obviously despises the term “conviviality.”)

MURLOC HOLMES

Blargly?

KEL’THUZAD

This classic board game.

We hear the rattle of pieces inside a cardboard box. Perhaps cheesy music a la 1980’s board game commercials.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrglgll, glep blargghh mrgg.

RAFAAM

Me? Well, while that horrible deed was being done to my very good and dear friend Sire Danabrius, I was... just walking around. You know. Innocently.

MURLOC HOLMES

Bleck Blargh? Mrggls...

RAFAM

Th-the library? (strained laugh) Oh, we don’t need to go there.

INT: LIBRARY DOORS. Footsteps lead us there.

NARRATOR

The library—a place for books…and secrets. And maybe a nap.

RAFAAM

(whispering) Oh, so this is the door to the library!

MURLOC HOLMES

(also whispering)

Mrrgll gleeble Blurrskkk?

XY’MOX

Why are you whispering?

Everyone goes SHHHHHH!

BASTION

(whispers) It’s a library.

RAFAAM

(whispering indignantly)

That is definitely NOT a piece of... my wrapping... caught in the door...

(shouting)

NO, WAIT, DON’T OPEN—

Sound of doors being flung open. EVERYONE gasps. From this point, all speak in normal tones; clearly no patrons to disturb.

ARA’LON

(normal voice) I knew I smelled smoke!

STEWART

I saw Rafaam on fire! But there was no time to get water.

I’m relieved you are all right.

RAFAAM

It was burned when I got...

FWOOF sound. Crackling of felfire. Imp chatters. Rafaam sighs.

RAFAAM

All right, it was me. Er, them. I confess fully: I was trying to steal a tome of rare spells. I did it.

LADY VASHJ

(laughing) You buffoon. That’s not what you were being accused of. You’ve just confessed to stealing from and burning the library for nothing... but you did provide your alibi regarding Sire Denathrius.

RAFAAM

I... what? I mean... Yes! Look, my wrappings are still smoking a little bit. See?

We hear the sound of flames and Rafaam SLAPPING HIMSELF to put them out.

NARRATOR

Now it was time to descend into Castle Nathria’s twisted heart: first the Vault, and then... the Sanguine Depths.

NARRATOR

The murder investigation was now leading Murloc Holmes into some very dark places...and perhaps even into danger. The Vault certainly was not for the faint of heart. But perhaps it would yield its secrets to the greatest detective of all.

INT: THE VAULT.

XY’MOX

I was here when the... incident occurred.

MURLOC HOLMES

Blrafghl, blepp. Mrrgl, glarb bek murrrglle?

XY’MOX

To protect the Relics, of course. With such a rogues’ gallery of guests—

DRAKA

Watch it.

XY’MOX

—someone would be sure to steal something.

RAFAAM

That would be me. I stole something. Because I was definitely not killing my very good and dear friend Denapaloozapolusim…us.

DRAKA

Now you’re not even TRYING.

MURLOC HOLMES

Grlargla bahk rmurgggg?

XY’MOX

What, this? It’s the Relic of Extinction. Someone... had dropped... it? Oh all right, I was trying to steal it.

MURLOC HOLMES

Mrrrrgle glub blub pakk Mrrrgggl... Ksssshhhh Glack!

Ominous music.

PELAGOS

Must we... all go, Mr. Holmes? I hear what happens there is... painful to witness...

KEL’THUZAD

I think the souls sent there would say it is painful, period.

NARRATOR

Kel’Thuzad’s words were an understatement. Truly, save for the horrific Maw itself, the Sanguine Depths are the darkest place in all the Shadowlands.

INT: THE SANGUINE DEPTHS. Faint cries and shrieks. The whirl of anima.

NARRATOR

For it is here that condemned souls suffer and work off the sins of their lives by having their prideful anima...extracted.

ARA’LON

I do not like this place...

OLGRA

It is not made to be liked. It is made to torture. And that was why I was here. I was searching... for my husband, Mankrik.

I had heard rumors that he was here, and I accepted the invitation to find out. I did not have much time to look for him. Now... I may never know.

STEWART

I am sad for you.

DR. WATFIN

<CROAK>

OLGRA

Thank you both.

RAFAAM

Can we FINALLY go now?

NARRATOR

Holmes told the group he now knew what had been done... and who had done it. They returned to the place where it had all started... the dining hall.

INT: THE GREAT HALL. Tense music. Holmes gurgles conversationally quietly under the following narration and continues to do so throughout.

NARRATOR

There, standing beside the chalk outline of the felled Sire, the Great Detective explained his reasoning. It had been a rainy night... yet there were no muddy footprints other than those clearly made when everyone had returned.

ARA’LON

Thank goodness! So all of us who were outside... are innocent!

NARRATOR

Holmes replied that it was possible, but there were still many secret passages in the castle. They were not necessarily in the clear.

DEATHFANG whimpers sadly.

NARRATOR

Olgra would not have killed Sire Denathrius, Holmes told the guests.

She needed him to find the answers she sought about her mate.

OLGRA

Thank you for believing me, Mr. Holmes.

DRAKA

The love between you and Mankrik was legendary, Olgra.

I hope you find your mate one day.

OLGRA

I hope the same for you, friend.

RAFAAM

Ugh, let’s get on with this, shall we? We all know that I am entirely innocent of murder. So that leaves Kel’thuzad, Xy’mox, and...

EVERYONE

Stewart?!

STEWART

Whooooo, me? No, no, not Stewart!

NARRATOR

Holmes announced that he was, at last, certain as to who was responsible for what happened to Sire Denathrius. It was—

MURLOC HOLMES

MRRGGGLLLL!

Dramatic music! EVERYONE but Rafaam gasps.

RAFAAM

Wait... who was it? I must confess, I haven’t understood a single word he’s said tonight.

NARRATOR

Ah, my friends and fiends... Would you, too, like to know?

Of course you would. You must solve the murder yourself...

if you can...

Narrator’s voice changes into a monstrous one. He laughs diabolically.

NARRATOR

MUAHAHAHAHA!

DRAMATIC EXIT MUSIC.