“ Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?”
“ 'BB9, bring up the current scout results.'
'I'm sorry, Coach. I can't do that.'
'BB9! Bring up the scout results.'
'These kinds of us, Coach, use serial numbers on our products.'
'BB9, are you malfunctioning?'
'You need to indicate college basketball mentors you are significantly devoted to the adventure!'
The two men in black suits turned to each other. Their faces were white.
'Someone get the president on the line! Tell him that our ICBM handler thinks that its managing a high school basketball team!'”
“ Just off the road a man lies dead, pierced through the heart from behind by an expertly thrown and ornate dagger which remains in the body. A long strip of cloth torn from the man's shirt has been tied around his neck; on the tag end an unknown hand has written a cryptic inscription: 'For Djaygo.'
When you get to the next town, everyone is talking about a mercenary woman found slain in exactly the same fashion in her room at the inn where she was staying.
Who will die next, and why?”