Inspired by the Murdoch Mysteries. All cast from the series owned by Madame Maureen Jennings.

Characters from legends (kind of) made up on the spot. Feel free to laugh (please don't cry).

'Do you believe who you meet?'
~~Emerald Sonata

&~ MURDOCH MYSTERIES ~&
- Investigating Legends -

:: Case 1 ::
Murdoch's Witch Trial

"Miss Fay. Why did you shoot the suspect?"

"Like I said before, Detective, I didn't shoot him. I cast a Firebolt Spell at him. And it's not Miss Fay, it's Lady Morgan Le Fay"

Old Toronto, Canada. It was the year way before the First Great War and many more years before the Space Needle known as the CN Tower was built within the heart of the city. A time when Great Britain had full ownership of the nation as a fellow Colony and served under British Law. The conversation was held in a certain Toronto Constabulary, a Station House Number Four. Namely, it was inside the Interview Room of that station. There were only two occupants present in that very room, one was well known and one was… even more well known.

"Miss Fay. I hope you would cooperate with me in providing the necessary details as to how you acquire this firearm. And… how you shaped it into a… broom?"

"Hmph. That's trade secret among us Witches, Detective Murdoch. As a sworn sister of the craft, I dare not divulge you with my secrets."

"… You not are answering the question."

Detective William Murdoch. One of the Constabulary's finest investigators who have solved more cases than anyone could ever count for. The death of a hockey player in Murdoch Night in Canada, the apprehension of a love-obsessed chemist in the Cloud of Doom, to even beating the cr*p out of a certain archnemesis in Murdoch Train to Kingston (son of a b*tch James Gil-)

"Ahem."

"I should be the one to make such a gesture, Miss Fay. The more you avoid telling me the truth, the more likely this will drag on. Would you so kindly as to tell me what is your reason to be in Canada dressed as….as…"

"Are you discriminating against me because I'm a Witch, sonny boy? The Witch Hunt has long ended, there's no need to rip open old wounds and rub fresh salt to remind me of the tragedy cause from pure stupidity."

"...I made no assumptions towards that comment. In fact, I firmly believe the so called Witch Trials were highly unnecessary. Please do not suggest otherwise."

There had been a nasty murder. And it didn't take long to solve. The death of a victim came from some crazed fellow who broke into an Apothecary Drug store and stabbed the owner. The only known leads towards the investigation, was that the culprit was mentally unsound. There were evidence suggesting he barged into the medicine store, spouting things about how God should kill all witches and warlock, and evidently stabbed the owner out of religious reasons. The murder was solved, but there was the issue with catching the deranged individual who wielded a knife carved out of animal bone (Detective Murdoch would suggest the third rib of a horse or so, a secondary autopsy from Dr. Grace was in order).

Constable Crabtree tried to stop him, Detective Murdoch knew he was more than capable of apprehending the suspect. The issue was the murderer was deteriorating into a psychotic breakdown (or devolving as a modern day BAU would put it). He mistaken Constable Crabtree's uniform as some sort of Wizard Robe. He had every intent to kill the poor lad. Until this Witch he was interviewing right in Station House Number 4 shot the man, with… said broom. Christened Bethany was it?

"Could it perhaps be a flintlock rifle, attached with the same sort of hard hay or bristles you find on a broom. I highly doubt this is a common form a weapon of that calibre would take. Why are you trying to disguise this weapon to blend into plain sight? So you could conveniently shoot someone and feign innocence upon inspection?"

"No comment."

"Or possibly, you had it custom made somewhere in Canada, or even in the United States. Either way, carrying a firearm of any kind in Toronto is against the law."

"No comment."

"Whether you accept the facts or not, I will have to confiscate your… broom. Hm."

"Wait! No! Don't! Th-this is my only medium to channel my magic! A wand was just too expensive with the ride of oil and the evolution of electricity! No one makes a decent wand that is at a suitable price! You can't have Bethany!"

"Who is Beth...Never mind. And what does oil and electricity have to do with this situation?"

Detective William Murdoch had many difficult cases. He may not have been a certain Sherlock Holmes (that David Kingsley fellow), but he did indeed paid close attention to the smallest of details an facts in order to solve the case and catch the thief or murderer. But he was confused.

Maybe because the one he was interviewing looked like a Witch straight from a fairy tale. Black robes, white collar, a pointed hat, and her broom which she was hugging so closely to her bosom. It wasn't the type of object used to sweep the leaves off the porch, neither was it used for cleaning at all.

It was clearly a kind of old fashion flint lock rifle that were produced in the American Civil War, with butt of the weapon covered in straws tied with an rope. She held this weapon as dearly as if it were her own flesh and blood child.

"…Miss Fay-"

"Morgan LE Fay."

"I don't believe that is your real name."

"How dare you insult me! That's my name ever since I was born."

"The real Morgan Le Fay is a fictitious character from the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Known to be a sorceress in the Arthurian tales and Merlin's lover. Do you really believe you could fool someone with such a moniker?"

"Yes, yes, yes. I did had a thing for the old codger, but he was so uptight in his duties for that boy king that being around him was dreadfully boring. So I stuffed him in a cave and shoved a stone over the entrance to leave them there... What? He was a stubborn badger! It was the only way to clearly get the message across to say 'let's break up'. Sigh. Life had been easy going after a century or two, but then the kingdoms disappeared and these annoying cities showed up. It became too confusing and complicated after those turning points that I gave up keeping track of the time altogether."

"...,...,...,...,...,..."

"…D-don't you look at me like I'm some kind of lunatic, you scoundrel! You weren't even born when I was mopping up the mess left behind the Black Plague! And don't you give a Noble Lady like me an attitude like that. If you really want to be this rude, fine! Why not just pick up a steel dagger and stab this body nine times whilst chanting a curse in Latin. Then you can revive me from the dead as your love slave. Humph. Men."

"I am a Detective of the Toronto Constabulary. My duty is to enforce the law and arrest those who break them. I am not here to torment you or... conjure you up back from the grave with some voodoo like spell. I don't believe in mystical motives like that. And given what you've just said, I could effectively consider it a confession to a potential murder you've committed in the past, which I will thoroughly investigate at a later time. It would be in your best interest to drop this charade and tell me straight who you really are?"

"Well aren't you a stickler. To think that heroic b*stard Lancelot was the dense one."

"Perhaps, I should call for your parents while we are here. Maybe they could shed some light on your... vivid fantasies."

"...,... Are you picking a fight with me, boy?"

Detective Murdoch had the urge to just grab this room and throttle her in frustration, however he was a gentlemen. Gentlemen would never strike a women (but she was obviously asking for it). Clearly he knew the one he was talking to was not a Witch, but no matter how much he tried to break down her self-induced delusions, he was getting nothing that made sense to him. The Witch who glared at him like a piece of garbage on the road must have had the exact same ideology.

"Listen to me, puppy. I have an appointment with my Coven later this afternoon. If we miss the Ritual, then a great war that will shake all the nations in the world will become inevitable. Do you want something that is worse than a Third or Fourth Boer War!?"

"Regardless of what you are saying, Miss Fay, just tell me why. Why were you at the Apothecary store at the time of the shop owner's murder? Why do you have an illegal firearm disguised as a common day item? And why did you shoot the killer?"

"It's Lady Fay! Lady Faaaaay! And pipe down, Mr. Detective, the man isn't dead. I simply shot a bolt of flame into his arse so he wouldn't go around slashing innocent people. If he was picking a fight with a witch like me, I would gladly burn the heathen into charcoal, but I didn't! And besides, he was going to gut your poor Constable like a lamb, of course I had to stop this so called 'Messiah of the Next Era'.

"You do realize that even if you didn't exactly kill the murderer, I can still lay charges for possessing an illegal and disguises weapon. Please hand over your rifle."

"No! D-don't take away my baby!"

"Please, Miss Fay. The longer you have such a dangerous tool in your hand, the more the Constabulary worries over the safety of this city. If you do not cooperate, I will officially press all 10 charges against you."

"I-I have a license for this broom! Y-you can't take it away! Y-you may be a copper, but we Witches have an entirely different jurisdiction o-of law and order! You have no right! You have no riiiiiiight!"

"Constable Higgins, Constable Jackson, please escort Miss Fay to the cells and confiscate her broom to be locked in the armory. Please do it as discreetly as a gentlemen to a lady as possible."

"Complaint! I want to file a complaint! What is your badge number!? I'll summon a Cerberus from Hades Domain to eat more than your leather shoes! No! D-don't take away my Bethany! My lifeline to magic will be severed! Eek! Wh-why are you rummaging into my skirt! I-it's not like my ritual knife or poison berries are going to hurt anyway! No! Not my Black Cat! Anything but Darjeeliiiiiiiing!"

In the end, while the investigation was underway to find the absolute truth, Detective William Murdoch sentenced the Witch named Morgan Le Fey (Fake name) to the cells of Station House Four. The entire time, she kept ranting about laying a hex to the station where everyone will collapse if they so much as touch an apple, stating, as quote, 'like how I dropped that chatterbox Gawain! He never shuts up!'. For the rest of the day, no one was in the mood for fresh apples, or even Apple Pie… Don't worry, the Black Cat named Darjeeling was in Dr. Grace's care for the time being.

"I'll curse you! Every one of you lot! You'll all be hopping around this place like frogs and bats! Feel my wrath all of you!…,... So-so cold and lonely...Th-this must be how Merlin felt... Sob."

And that was the case of Murdoch's Witch Trial.