2-14 “Better than Nothing”

By the time we find Inspector Freeman, Harold's constant blathering is starting to get to me. He was scouring alleyways when we got to one of the men assigned to relay messages. How does he manage to root around in the alleys all day and not get even a smudge on his breastplate? places are quite filthy.

“Sir, this is Harold Wordweaver, a business partner of Peter Moldmaker, he's here to tell you what he knows. We have an enchanted stone of his appropriated for the investigation and he would like it back, if it proves irrelevant to the case.”

“Well, I wouldn't say I'm a partner, more of a-”

“Thank you Nivar.” Interrupting someone? He must be exhausted. “If you could take Ken and do a sweep of the alleyways, it'd speed things along nicely. This area looks like the center of the more recent disappearances.

“Mister Wordweaver, let's go talk someplace more comfortable, no sense standing out in the sun.”

Even something like this is preferable to standby, pretty sure he knows that much about me. Otherwise, it would probably have been an order, most of the others hate alley work. We spend a fair deal of time searching, and bump into another pair of watchmen that are on the same task, nothing to report except which areas they've already scoured. At least there wasn't any muck around to have to dig through, surprisingly dry around here. Ken is rather adept at avoiding and maneuvering around the detritus that is clogging up some of these alleys.

“It's getting close to the end of our shift, lets check one last set across the street from this one and head home, don't worry it's a small one.”

“Starving here, can't wait to get home and eat dinner.”

“Do you do the cooking at home too? When we were out in the woods before you made some surprisingly good stuff.”

“Only one at home to do the cooking, taught myself to cook when I was tired of paying too much for food or eating junk.”

“No one else at home? Have you been looking? I'm sure a lot of women would be impressed by the uniform, and that you can cook like that.”

“No, saving myself for someone back in the hometown, we've been keeping in touch via a pair of enchanted brooches I... obtained from a previous employer. Waiting for the situation down there to be appropriate to get her out.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“Worse, I really wish I had-”

“Hey! Stop, thief!” We're just approaching the street, they aren't crowded, stall owners are starting to pack up. Probably a snatch and run. Hope he's running this way, I bet there'll be a great look on his face when two watchmen pop out of an alley.

2-13 “Recovery”

The whole point of being on standby is being ready to go on a moments notice. We're up and moving towards the front immediately. Ken grabs a light crossbow and bolt box from the equipment rack we pass leaving the training grounds. Probably a good idea considering we don't know who this wizard is or how powerful he might be. He also seems to have remembered to keep it unloaded until something is actually going down. Showing up at a heated scene with a loaded crossbow doesn't help anything.

We slow down as we near the front desks. No need to barge in and draw attention when people are arguing, we can hear them now. Assistant commander Staghorn is letting someone know that, “You can't have it back until after all pending investigations are closed or the item is proven irrelevant to any open cases.”

We slide into the foyer quietly as our armor allows. Looks like quite a few of us were called in here, that's standard procedure when dealing with spellcasters. You never know how powerful they are by looks alone, best to be prepared. Wait, we just met this guy. Harold is here and already trying to retrieve his magic rock, he seems more flustered than when we met him outside of the statuary.

“How long will that take?! I can't work without my channel stone. How am I supposed to make a living while you sit here with it in your vault?!”

“I'm sorry, but we can't give it back, and I don't know how long it will take. We've got a lot of missing people, many of which are now presumed dead. Reports are still coming in. If you want my advice on the matter, you can find Investigator Freeman. He would love to have a statement from an acquaintance of one of the recently missing, and while you're at it you can give him a full description of your rock and its abilities so we may rule out it's involvement more quickly, if that is the case.”

“I need it back quickly though, you'd better see that it has nothing to do with this! Where can I find Mr. Freeman?”

“Okay then,” the assistant commander looks around at the lot of us that assembled during the argument, “Nivar, Kenneth, you two were on this case, take mister Wordweaver to see the Investigator.” His expression wordlessly adds, “I don't think he's dangerous, but make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.”

“Yes, sir.”

The rest of the men filter back out of the room. Ken and I motion for Harold to follow us. Investigator Freeman said that he would be checking for leads in the southwestern quarter. I guess we'll see how else we can help once we get there too, just about anything is better than being on standby. Harold is grumbling under his breath again, I wonder how long Staghorn was keeping him tied up before we arrived.

2-12 “Standby”

Being on standby is usually very boring, which is only a good thing because if there's excitement while you're on standby, it means something bad is happening. Like finding that body. The only thing useful to do is spar or practice your archery in the training field.

The sparring pit itself is spectacular. The guardhouse was built to the kingdom's standard, and that included an enchanted live weapons sparring pit. I had only done practice bouts with wooden weapons previously, but live weapons changes the game quite a bit. The enchantment prevents any injury in the pit from weapons that aren't themselves enchanted. Which means I use standard issue gear in there, my own equipment would still kill a man. What the enchantment doesn't stop is the actual pain of the hit, which wont go away until you leave or fall unconscious from it. (Very similar to that knife to the neck I felt during that eyes of the dead spell, except that forced me to stay conscious through it.) With all that put into the sparring pit it makes me wonder why the standard issue gear is so poor.

Right now Ken and I are resting after several rounds of sparring. After some of the talents he displayed today, some of his quirks while fighting seem to be explained. If he was raised in a bad part of the city he lived in or in just a bad city, he'd have learned more along the lines of fencing and unarmored combat with small easily concealed weapons than what we use. Which leads to the question...

“So why did you join the watch?”

He looks a little uneasy with the question.

“Well, to escape. My hometown didn't have much in the way of a town watch, and what we did have was corrupt. Honest guards didn't last long before requesting transfer to another city or 'disappearing,' and I chose the former to get out of there. The place was pretty much run by thieving guilds, and street gangs. Some people still managed an honest living by farming or crafting wares. But no one would last long without paying someone or other protection money. I was brought up on stolen food and taught how to fend for myself in a similar way. I'm not exactly proud of what I did to get by back there.

“Once I'd had enough of being strong-armed into burglarizing my neighbors, I tried joining the watch. I never got much training, pretty much just have to ask to get in around there. I was hoping to be another man on the small force and make a difference. I didn't know that pretty much all of them were being paid off to just let whoever had done the paying's group do whatever, you only had to be careful around watchmen paid off by a different guild. Did the best I could without drawing too much ire from the bosses. Requested transfer when I killed a mugger that was taking it too far on my route. I had one friend higher up in the ranks than myself, and he got me out of there. Not just for my sake, but also to stop me from causing any more trouble. It was easily done, not much paperwork when you transfer from a place with 'too many guards' to someplace that's asking for more. I kinda wish I had managed to-”

“Hey Nivar, Kenneth! Come out front, we've got a wizard here giving us a bit of trouble. We might need some extra muscle if he tries something stupid.”

2-11 “Specters of Revenge”

The note is written in code. I can't make any sense of it. I've seen a few but this one is new. Hopefully, the investigator can figure it out.

Investigator Freeman shows up with a few men from the guard house. He starts pointing out things to take into custody for examination and perhaps some divining magic. Almost all of the dust is swept into a container and taken back. The magic stone downstairs, and the small cloth scrap from the broken window are taken in as well. While they are going around securing evidence, Ken comes up and asks me what I'm looking at.

“Coded message, I think its calling for a hit on someone. Ran into a local informant who was ordered to bring it here as a job for Peter Moldmaker. He said Peter was some sort of hit man. Can't figure it out though, not a code I've seen before. It takes me forever to figure these out.”

“Mind if I have a look.”

I hand it over to him, couldn't hurt. He looks it over for a few seconds.

“Looks like whoever the boss is thought that some people going missing on their side were revenge killings for some form of sabotage they pulled on a rival gang. No names of targets, though. Looks like he was just supposed to pick some people out from whatever this rival gang is. Peter was supposed to receive a bag of 50 platinum sovereigns as pay. 'The Pigeon,' probably whoever was carrying the message, has the money and was supposed to give it to Pete if he accepted the job. Though if it isn't meant to be a hit there are a few other possible meanings.”

'The Pigeon'? Well, looks like Vinnie finally got away with something, assuming his boss and Pete don't turn up again. I don't agree with the assumption that these missing criminals are revenge killings. If they were, I'd think that the perpetrator would have left some form of message, a warning perhaps. But there was no calling card here, no note, just a mess and an abnormally large amount of dust.

“You got all of that, that fast?”

“If I'm alright in assuming that it was meant to be a hit, like you said, then this one is almost uselessly easy, just enough code to say it isn't a code in court. Man, one guy back home had what everyone called 'Idiot Code', a system where letters were pretty much swapped randomly, and every time one was repeated it was a different letter. The first 'A' in the note would actually be a 'D' and the second 'A' would be a 'Q'. You'd know it was a code, but it was damn impossible to figure out. At least, until someone managed to steal one of his very select few translation sheets he gave to his most trusted contacts, it was. Then he went and changed it all around...”

Freeman finally gets around to asking what else we may have found. I give him the coded message. Ken fills him in on what he figures it means, and I fill him in on what I learned from my 'local informant.'

“So one culprit down, one to go? Assuming that this guy really is out of here. If my hunch is correct, and this dust and the other piles your informant heard about, are the remains of bodies, we might have a very powerful wizard running around disintegrating people. That's all I can think of that'd leave piles like this around.”

Ken chimes in, “Perhaps a vigilante, if all of the targets are criminals.”

Freeman shakes his head negatively, “I don't know if they all were criminals though. It's actually fairly unlikely, considering the amount of them. Too many people have gone missing after the shift to this area of the city.”

“Any idea where to look next?”

“No, I want you two back on standby at the guard house. If there's a wizard strong enough to do this to people running rampant, we'll need magical assistance to bring him down, and I don't want to lose any men just because we weren't prepared for who we find. I will keep you updated for when I find out our next move.”

Looks like its back to business as usual, for at least a little while. I hate being on standby, it always makes me feel useless. At least I'll be able to have a few training bouts with Ken.

2-10 “Unwilling Informant”

A quick thrust of my halberd and I tip the ladder back and over to pin the guy between it and the building on the opposite side of the alley. He wraps his knees around the ladder rungs to keep himself from dangling off.

Lanky build, red hair, scruffy clothes – it's Vinnie again. No matter how many times I try to scare this guy straight, he seems to get under the thumb of another gang leader or crime lord. He isn't so much malicious as he is amazingly unlucky, constantly pulled in to be a stooge or messenger boy. How I keep running into him, I don't know. He's never quite doing something illegal, but he's constantly running around delivering messages and the occasional piece of contraband that he 'had no idea was in that package.' Which is true, when put in a circle of truth we found that they don't even tell him what he's delivering. It's easy enough to spook him into talking and then he hides from whoever he got caught, and ends up working for another person who will tell him even less than the last boss did.

“We gotta stop meeting like this Vinnie. Breaking and entering is illegal, you know.”

“Denwatch? The 'ell are ya doing 'ere? An' I wasn't breakin' in. Why would I yell out for 'im if I was trying to bust inta 'is place? Can you let me down? This ain't a very comfy spot ya got me in.”

“You're right Vinnie, but I could probably take you in for this one anyway. Though I might let you off with a warning if you let me in on what Pete here has to do with your boss.”

“Wait, ya don't know? Why're ya even 'ere then?”

“I'm sure you've heard about the recent surge of missing persons.”

“Shit, I knew Pete was a real nutter, but I didn't think all of 'em were 'is.”

“You're still not telling me anything, and my partner will be back soon with men from the guard house.”

That got him, now he's sweating and shaking, but not enough to loosen his dead grip on that ladder.

“Hell, Pete finds ways to lure guys inta private and knocks 'em off. I hear 'e like strange clothes an steals 'em from those that don't need 'em no more in 'is free time. 'ats all I know 'bout 'im. Been tryin' to reach 'im since yesterday but 'e wasn't in 'is usual 'aunt, and so I decided I'd come 'ere. To tell the truth I don't want to be anywhere near the guy. Lot's of people that 'ave done business wit' 'im are just gone. Maybe they left,” he appends quietly, “but I don't think so.”

“Like who, where?”

“Andy Alchemist on west side. Gary Padfoot, maybe others. I wouldn't bother check for 'em though, they're just gone. Places 'ave since been cleaned of everything but dust.”

“Dust?”

“Not blue dust! All 'ats left where they used to work or live is a pile 'o dust now.”

“Well, all that's left here is a pile of dust, too. I'd say you should stay out of trouble if you don't want to end up the same. So who's your boss and what's this job? Let me know and I'll let you off for now.”

“He'd 'ave my 'ead if 'e knew I was telling ya, but 'e's gone missin' too, probly safe to give it to ya. Just say ya found it 'ere, an' I'll say I left it in 'is room, an' no one'll know any better.” He pulls out an envelope. I pull the ladder back with the hook of my halberd and he hands it to me. Once I have the letter he drops down the ladder quick as he can, folds it up impossibly small, and bolts. “I'm outta 'ere!”

Something to read until the investigator shows up.

2-9 “Crime Scene”

Inside is the shop area of the statuary. On shelves all around are small metal statues some are minimally mobile. The area is tidy, and the shelves are full. Whoever broke in either didn't come downstairs or wasn't here to rob the place. A few days worth of dust coats everything except the works that move.

Through a door in the back is a workshop area. Bars of various metals, from lead to platinum, are carefully arranged near a furnace and tool set. I assume that the bags of plaster were used to make the molds for his sculptures. On one table is a polished stone that glows softly. In one corner is a safe, still firmly closed and locked.

From the workshop leads a stairway to the second floor. A small kitchen and dining space. A store room and at the end.

The last room is the bedroom. The sheets are tossed about from the bed. A dresser and nearby wardrobe have been pushed about. The wardrobe is broken open and empty. It's also more solidly built than most I've seen, thicker doors and sides. Judging by the way the wood is splintered, it was broken out from the inside. There is a very large amount of what looks like dust on the floor near the bed. A night table is upended near the window, a candle that was probably on the table is on its side on the floor.

“What happened here?”

“Signs of a struggle, nothing seems to be missing. Except for whatever was in that wardrobe. Looks like someone broke their way out of there doesn't it?”

“Yeah, that wouldn't be an easy feat, it's very sturdily built for a wardrobe. Wonder what he was keeping in there.” He open a drawer of the dresser nearby. “Just clothes in here, looks like.”

I move toward the window, not much glass in the room. Looks like it was broken outward. A small torn piece of fine green cloth is stuck on a shard sticking out from the frame.

“Go up to the trader's guilds and find Inspector freeman, I think he'll want to look over this place before we tramp all over it any further. I'll stay here and keep an eye on things.”

“Yes, sir.” He salutes, and heads back down the stairs.

The place is very quiet once I stop moving around. There's something unsettling about that pile of dust, or maybe it's this room that doesn't feel right.

There's a sound coming from the alley below the window, someone is walking around down there. I withdraw my halberd from my magic pouch quietly. A ladder is put up toward the window.

A voice call up from below, ascend to his floor “Oi, Pete, what 'appened to ya window? Well no matter, boss 'as a choice job for ya, so you'll be able ta replace it roight quick.” I know this voice.

A face pokes over the lip of the window, surprise quickly covering it. “Aw, shit. You ain't Pete.”

2-8 “Moldmaker House”

Investigator Freeman takes notes while questioning the people in the tavern, no new leads are to be found though. He assigns Ken and I to check on the statuary while he looks for leads among the trader's guilds. Hopefully peter isn't one of those that have gone missing.

This town has gotten so big so fast that it's simple to believe how easy it is for someone to disappear without anyone noticing. People are constantly moving in and more houses and buildings are constructed to accommodate them all. I can't imagine that we'd be able to keep that up without the spells and magical items that the engineers use for construction. Although, those with a lot of money still hire builders for a hand crafted house. With so many new people coming in to town, why would someone target folks that have been around for a while, with contacts or schedules to keep.

It takes us a while to trek down to where Mr. Moldmaker's shop was reported to be. After asking for directions from the local patrol we find the place. It's down a dead end street, a well made sign declaring the 'Best fine metal statues, busts, and animate miniatures in the city.' There's an elderly gentleman looking into the window from the street occasionally knocking on the door and shouting for Peter. He stops when we approach.

“Excuse me, sirs. Would you happen to know if the owner of this shop has been around.” He looks around he is clearly worried about something.

“No, I'm afraid not. We were just looking for him ourselves. Do you know him?”

“Well, not exactly. I'm Harold Wordweaver, I started working with him several days ago, working minor enchantments into some of his smaller creations to let them animate into performing short repeating motions.” He gestures at the display window. One of the smaller silver sculptures depicts a warrior and a dragon each constantly attacking each other in a slow loop. The posture, and incredibly wasteful motions on the warrior's end give away the lack of experience the animator had watching men in actual combat. The warrior's shield has no straps... “But about four days ago he stopped opening up his shop. He never gave me a key, and so I've been coming here and calling for him and checking to see if he's opened up. You see I left an enchanted stone of mine in his workshop, it helps me channel my magics, and I really need it back.”

“Ken, question this fine gentleman, I'm going to see if there's any sign of breaking and entering.”

I circle around the building nothing strange in the alley to its left, but when I look around back there's a broken window and glass all over the floor. Second floor, that's a strange place for a burglar to break in from, there are certainly enough accessible windows on the ground floor here. The overall lack of security for a place dealing in fine metals is fishy. But now it looks like a crime scene, time to get in and take a look around.

“This is now a crime scene. I'm sorry Harold, but your stone might need to be held as evidence. Come by the guard house and you'll be able to learn how to get it back once it has been examined.”

“Blast it, I need that. Just hurry up will you, I can't work without that thing!” He tugs at his long white beard as he leaves, grumbling to himself.

“Door's locked, we're going to have to force our way in it looks like.”

I step back from the door and get ready to test the lock strength with a kick when Ken interrupts me.

“No, no, no, solid oak door, too thick for that sort of thing. You'll just hurt yourself.”

I raise an eyebrow, though my helmet probably makes the expression hard to read, “Really now, and what do you propose?”

Ken crouches down and withdraws something from his boot. A lockpick? Must be. He makes quick work of unlocking the door. “That was easy. Shouldn't someone making even pewter statues have a better lock?”

“Where did you pick that little skill up?”

Ken shifts uncomfortably, “Well let's just say that where I grew up, not knowing something like this was out of the ordinary.” He opens the door, and we go in to check the place out.

2-7 “Full Cooperation”

She brings us our drinks, the sage water here is as good as ever. After managing a few more orders she comes back to us.

“So, what questions does The Watch want answered today?”

I hold up the sketch of the victim and the sketch of the man the victim talked to at the bar on the day he was killed.

“Do you recognize either of these two?”

She looks the two portraits over for a moment. “Yeah,” she indicates the victim's picture, “I don't know much about him but I remember how ridiculous he looked when he came in here. The guy wasn't a regular.”

She then indicates the other sketch, “This one is Peter Moldmaker. He used to come in here every other day for lunch and mead. Haven't seen him in about four days though. He runs a small metal sculpture shop in the southwestern part of town. Never started talking about it until he was right drunk, never got an intelligible address for the place. Anything else?”

The missing persons started being localized to the southern section of town about four days ago, that's worth looking into.

“Have you heard much about the missing persons lately?”

Selena has good ears and is probably in the know of much of what various underground organizations are up to. She doesn't talk unless asked, but she's always cooperative. Funny thing is, the criminals know she's a willing informant. They haven't managed to silence her, so they try to avoid discussing their own affairs around her, instead talking about the plans of their competition.

“No, I'm afraid not. I imagine that the damn slavers, and blue dust runners are all laying low until it blows over.”

We had originally thought that the missing people could have been kidnapings carried out by the people trying to start an underground slave trade here. After so many people with families or a lot of contacts were reported missing, we decided that it was more likely to be unrelated. Usually they try to pick up new folks in the city, people not many would notice disappearing.

Investigator Freeman enters the building. He starts questioning some of the customers.

“Well, I have some information to pass along. Drink was wonderful as usual. Good afternoon.”

I empty my cup and leave the payment plus tip for Selena. Investigator Freeman will be glad to hear we have some real leads finally.

2-6 “Heroes”

The tavern is busy during lunch, The dull roar of everyone talking greets me as I enter. The smell of food and alcohol pervades the (mostly) well lit room. The first of the place's owners I run into is, of course, old Sandro, the bouncer.

Sandro was their muscle back when they were fighting monsters in ruins and whatever else it is these treasure hunters used to do for a living. Even in his advanced years he can still put an unruly drunk out the door with ease, and the last guy that tried to rob the place learned that his walking stick isn't to help him get around. The massive scar running across his face draws many questions but no one, as of yet, has been able to get a reliable answer. Every time you ask he comes up with something new.

“Well hello there, Nivar.” He takes a look at Ken as we enter, “Stuck with some new blood, eh?”

“If it's obvious, then I haven't been as useful in helping him train as I had thought.”

Ken get's a look at the scar, “I bet there's a story behind that one.”

“Ah, yes, I will never forget the lesson I learned that day...”

A pause, he always leaves a pause, I think it's so that he has time to come up with something new or perhaps to think back and remember which stories he's already told the current listener. I've heard about ten different explanations for that scar, from the serious to the absurd.

“Never shave with your magical dagger.”

“You never had a magic dagger, Sandro!” That would be Dekrom, the serious dwarf is always quick to dispel any of Sandro's fantasies. Dekrom currently works as the cook and sometimes waiter of the tavern. From what I've gathered, he is a wizard and not one of low caliber. If he see's someone about to get unruly he often takes the initiative of casting a sleep spell or some other similar enchantment to save Sandro the trouble of a fight.

The two start a very colorful exchange of the sort you only see between two friends, this is always a good moment to let them be and move on to the bar. The fellow that the victim talked to on the day he was killed is not around today. Oh well, hopefully I can glean some useful information from Selena, the bartender. If you ask her she'll tell you she was the groups scout, and that 'Oh no, I've never used my skills for anything illegal,' but while I've yet to catch her at it, she is a pickpocket at the least. The way she puts it is that she 'always gets a tip' even if the barfly in question didn't leave her one intentionally.

She and Dekrom started running this place when Sandro's old age finally stopped him from being able to fight the type of things they planned on encountering on their treasure hunts. The elves and dwarves live so much longer than we do, I wonder if befriending humans is hard on them? It would explain why their kingdoms tend to be so isolationist.

She gives us a smile, “It's so rare for you to bring a friend Nivar. On duty or off? Not that it changes what you order.”

“On duty, so nothing heavy for the kid here.” She knows that I only come here on duty if I have questions.

Ken look a little downtrodden, “I guess it'll be lemonade for me then.”

She already knows what I always order.

2-5 “Leads”

My vision comes back, I'm back in my own head. That pain still lingers a little. We should let everyone in the watch feel that, they won't complain about the gorgets being uncomfortable ever again.

I get up and look down at Inspector Freeman. He is sitting as if in deep concentration, he's still holding that notebook and his gloved hand is drawing on the page with his pen incredibly swiftly. He is just finishing a sketch of the fellow being talked to in the bar. When it's done, the page flips and he begins drawing another face, one I didn't notice as I was memorizing the streets and shops being visited.

I turn to Kristoph to ask, “Why did I get out earlier than he did?”

“Time still passes while you are having the vision, though you experience much more quickly than you would reality. You probably speed up the process further. Inspector Freeman there has done this before, he takes it slow and uses that magical glove to let him sketch things without seeing the page. I'm guessing the glove is mentally controlled, he can't move his body of his own will during the trance normally, but perhaps the glove's enchantment doesn't share that detachment.”

Suddenly Freeman's face expresses deep pain, his drawing slows down. It looks like he's trying to sketch the killer in those fading moments. He only has a vague outline when he comes to.

“Damn it! If the victim could have held out a little longer, I might have had the bastard! Denwatch, you remember his path?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” He begins copying his sketches with remarkable speed. Then he calls the rest of the men back in to the mortuary, “I want you to look for these people in that area with me. Ask if anyone saw the victim or anyone following him around. If you find any of the people that I sketched, direct them to me for questioning. I'm going to spend my time looking for them directly and questioning people at the tavern, so if you find any of them send them there to meet me. We also need to identify him and find out if he has any local family to notify.”

He hands us the copied sketches, several people drawn with meticulous detail. Standard procedure; groups of two or more, fan out, question the nearby residents, regroup at the guard house when finished. I'm still paired with Ken. The inspector takes one of the men brought to carry the coffin. Two of the remaining three are chosen to help, the last is sent back to his guard post on standby.

Following his path I manage to learn from a stall owner the man's name, Victor Sagefield, and that he had acted as an intermediary for merchants and caravans. I make note to ask around at nearby trader's guilds to find more information about him, he might have been a member and been killed by a rival or competing guild. Other than that, the search is frustratingly useless. The last place I decide to go is the tavern. I'm not officially an investigator, but I might very well know how to get more information out of the owners and regulars than Freeman would. They can be... quirky...

2-4 “Eyes of the Dead”

The world comes back into focus, I'm walking down a street. Except, it isn't me. I see hear feel and smell everything. but I have no control over movement. It's a very strange sensation.

One of the first things I notice is this man must have been out of shape for how he looks. Walking around unarmored shouldn't feel this strenuous. The second is that he is walking around the eastern market square, towards The Hero's Tavern. It's as nice a place as any to get a bite to eat, a good drink, or, in my case, local information. The owner's are retired treasure hunters and self-proclaimed heroes. They were central to our plans to depose Iztram, before he was so fortuitously removed by our Liberators. The market is full of the sounds of people gossiping and the smell of produce and fresh baked goods. I don't have much to go with from what I see here. I guess I really should just stick to the big picture, time to memorize his path for the day, we can question stall owners and shopkeeps he talked to.

I find that I can speed up the 'memory' as well as slow it down or stop it, but I can't reverse it. I increase the pace, a knack for memorizing places will let me beat the same path once I'm out of here.

He stops near several of the bakers on his way toward the tavern, smelling the wonderful baked goods but not buying anything.

In the tavern he has lunch, has a few drinks, and stares at the elven bartender's chest for a bit longer than I think she'd appreciate. He strikes up a short conversation with the man next to him, it's about a new tailor in town.

He leaves the tavern, walks up Bullhorn Way. Stops briefly to look at his reflection in the window of Traveler's Boon General Store. That outfit is more gaudy than I've seen most nobles wearing. Bright greens and blues all over. Stick to the big picture. Street is empty, no one around for quite a ways.

He stops by Eamon's Millinery. Picks up a hat that complements his already absurd get up. I notice in the mirror someone watching through the window, face obscured by a hood. It's too hot out for such attire, that's as suspicious looking a fellow as I have ever seen. The watcher rapidly moves away when the man is done checking his new hat and beginning to pay.

He continues up the way, there's a small but notable crash down an alley to the left, he looks down the alley. This is the alley where we found him. There's something shining on the ground among the forgotten and rotting barrels and crates, he's about to walk down there like an idiot and see what it is isn't he...

Yes, there he goes, it's a silver eagle coin. “How'd this get here? Well, that covers lunch today!” There's another coin further down around the corner. You're really going to fall for this?! He is...

He goes deeper into the alleyways, picking up the next coin and peeking slowly around corners, as if he knows he really ought to not be doing this. Another small crash. Turn around you idiot. “Hm, probably should get back to the street, this place is getting creepy.” No re-!!!

TWIN ECLIPSES, that hurts! That must be the neck wound, an excellent argument towards wearing a gorget right here. I can't feel anything below his head anymore. Vision begins to fade just as he's being turned over. I can't make out the face hanging above him; blurry vision, a dark alley, and a hood. Darkness...

2-3 “Spiritual Severance”

“Is there something blocking the spell?” Frustration is clear on the investigator's face.

“No, there's nothing blocking the spell but the spirit is out of contact.”

“Can you tell why?”

“I'm afraid not, there are several reasons this could happen. From simply not wanting to talk to being the victim of a soul devourer. There are two that I would say are most likely though: He may have been slain by an enchanted weapon designed to sever spiritual connections, or his spirit may have been twisted into a vengeful wraith or specter due to the circumstances of his death. Have any such ghosts been reported in the area?”

Ghosts aren't our jurisdiction, though we generally get reports of them. Those get sent ahead to one of the nearby temples, the priests carry out any necessary exorcisms or exterminations. The thought of destroying a ghost always gives me a chill.

“No, it was probably the weapon. They are easy enough to come by, their legitimate use is for dealing with the undead. Unfortunately, they also make murder harder to trace, and prevent resurrection in high profile cases where the victim can afford such treatment. Did you bring the stuff you need to cast that viewing spell?”

“Yes, of course I can give you the 'Eyes of the Dead.' The rest of you should step outside for a moment if you don't want to be caught up in the spell too, it isn't an altogether pleasant experience.”

Kristoph pulls a very grim face with that. Kenneth and the four that carried the coffin turn and leave. I'm not about to be scared off by something like that.

“I'll help however I can.”

“As you wish, sit on the floor with Mr. Freeman. It makes the experience more bearable at the end.”

Kristoph starts taking various vials, and small pouches out from his sleeves. Investigator Freeman sits down at the foot of the stone slab resting his back on it. He pulls out a pair of embroidered silk gloves and puts them on. Then he takes a pen and notebook from a pouch at his belt.

“Okay, Nivar, I bet you haven't done this before. We're going to experience some of this poor fellow's last day, and see what we can gather from his point of view. Just try to focus and remember what you can of the places you see. I'll focus on the details. Oh, and be ready for this to hurt.”

“Pain is something I'm used to, Sir.”

I sit along the wall nearest the stone pedestal, not the most comfortable thing to do in armor. Kristoph makes an outline around the body with some sort of fine red powder. He begins a chant and the world starts to get hazy.

2-2 “Spooks”

We arrive at the Temple of the Hammer's mortuary. The rancid scent of the body immediately dissipates. Always happens when we come down here, there's probably a spell of some sort responsible for that. Torches line the walls, offering a good amount of light to see by, though the lack of windows is still apparent. Whenever we have an unidentified body, we take it here. They keep the body in some sort of stasis for a few days to let us find out who they are before burial, let loved ones know. We also take the time to see if a wizard can gather any information from the body or spirit, according to them, temples amplify magics relating to spirits.

'Spooks' shows up to prepare a slab for the body to rest on. The clergy of this temple leave the mortuary to him, only coming out here when funerary rites need to be performed.

The local gravedigger and manager of the bodies awaiting burial, Lawrence Tunneler, looks so much like a corpse himself that he's earned that nickname among the watch. Add to that the way he moves, stiff, jarring motions with the least joint bending possible. If anyone could be mistaken for the walking dead, it would be Spooks. Investigator Freeman, greets him.

“Hello, Lawrence, same song and dance as usual. Has the wizard shown up yet?”

“No, sir. Was just me an' the dead until you showed up.” Even his voice rasps in a way that you could easily imagine coming from someone not quite alive.

We open the coffin, and hoist the body onto a stone platform.

“No clothes? We'll have to fix that a'fore burial. You find 'im this way?”

“Yes, I thought it was odd that someone would take the time to undress a body after killing them. Hopefully it'll help us find the killer.”

“Well, I s'ppose I'll leave you to your business then. Give me a shout when you're done. Sooner they get frozen the better.”

Spooks totters off, leaving us alone with the body, for a while. We seem to have hired a loud one.

“Hello! Your master diviner had arrived!”

He bounces his way into the room, brightly colored robes contrasting sharply with the stone walls.

“So this is the errant body? Well then, let's find out what has befallen this poor fellow!”

“You can cut the act, Kristoph, there's no-one here for you to impress...” Freeman looks annoyed, and his tone engenders familiarity.

“Cut to the chase is it, my friend? Well then I shall, first I will try to speak with the departed spirit, if that fails I will see what I can gather from the body.”

Kristoph begins his arcane chant placing a crystal ball on the deceased's chest. A slight radiance issues forth from the sphere, followed by a vulgar sound and a sizable cloud of light gray smoke bursts forth. If that smoke usually had a smell, it's deadened in the mortuary. In just a few moments the smoke rises and leaves through one of the funnels in the ceiling. I'm fairly certain the spirit world just passed gas at us, master diviner indeed...

“Well, I see this is going to get complicated...” Kristoph looks both amused and disappointed at the same time.

2-1 “Found”

Investigator Freeman Holds a cloth over his face, I would too if this helmet wasn't in the way. How many days has this body been here.

“Looks like the missing person cases just got knocked up a few notches in priority.”

“Probably the only thing you don't want to find in a case like this.”

Investigator Freeman was put in charge of the reports of people going missing over the last week or so. At first they were randomly positioned, now they seem to be focused around a particular area of the city.

“No clothes, that's odd. Neck wound. Probably a knife. Rats have done a number on this one too. Stay here and keep an eye out, I'm going back to the guard house to get a few men to properly clean this up. Hopefully the killer wasn't high class enough to have something to prevent a divination spell.”

Divination spells, amazing how useful and useless they are all at once. Most criminals have enough of a brain to use something to prevent the simpler less powerful magics from spotting them. You need to have important objects to cast the more powerful ones, and even those can be circumvented. Some of the materials for the spells are fairly expensive, so we can't just resort to them for everything. There are a few wizards in the city that cooperate with us who focus specifically on such magic, perhaps they'll be able to solve this quickly, talk to the spirit of the departed or something like that.

“Yes, sir.”

The investigator heads off leaving Watchman Kenneth and me to look after the body. The rookie has been learning a lot more quickly since I was put in charge of training him. He still does some unusual things, but he isn't quite as embarrassing to work with as he was a few days ago when I first worked with him. I give a clear hand signal, and he turns to keep watch on the southern end of the alleyway. I keep an eye on the northern and western branches. Why are there so many alleys like this anyway? I bet if we had built all of the buildings closer together, the crime rate would be less than half of what it is now. Though I'm no engineer, perhaps there is some point to it.

After what must have been at least an hour, Investigator Freeman comes back with four men carrying a casket. We place the putrid corpse inside and close it. The four men lift the casket and we make our way toward the mortuary of The Temple of The Hammer. Investigator Freeman briefs us.

“We'll be met there by Kristoph Mitchelson. He'll attempt to allow us to speak with the spirit of the deceased. Let me ask the questions, the spell only allows for so much time. After that we inform the family of the deceased, and continue the investigation. If we get good enough info we might even be able to make an arrest right away.”

Kenneth and I nod. People get out of the way as we proceed down the streets. Some out of respect, some out of disgust at the stench.

Home-1 “Hazard Pay”

As part of the original town, our house is somewhat near the castle. Dad says he bought the place with money he made selling off one of his magical weapons from his mercenary days. He 'kept the good stuff' and is waiting for me to do something to earn it he says.

The smell of the garden in bloom greets me as I enter the yard, another nice thing about being in the area of the original town is that they didn't reapportion it at all. The city grew around it, but we still have plenty of space around our homes.

The garden is beautiful in the midday sun. I don't often get to see it until the sun is low in the sky. Near the door are the tulips, each one 'broken' as Melanie calls it, into two colors. Then roses outward from there. At the corner of the house are the sunflowers, truly massive flowers. I was worried that she had fallen for a con when she bought them, promised 'flowers taller than a man' by a trader from far to the southeast.

One thing I learned quickly about Melanie, is that she loves flowers and gardening. Much to my chagrin, I also quickly learned that she does not appreciate cut flowers, she loves them as a living thing. It would always amuse my father that while I was courting her I would leave the house, not with a bouquet of flowers, but with a handful of seeds.

The door creaks loudly as I enter. No matter what I do, nothing seems to fix that. This, of course alerts all of them to my presence, I'd better get ready.

“Dads back!'

“Papa!”

Both Samuel and Diane come running from their room. I gently place the pot of honey on the floor next to me and the bread on top of it. Just in time to catch both of them and hoist them up onto my shoulders. Oof, Sam is starting to get a little big for this.

“How are my kids doing? I bet you've been good enough to deserve some honey loaves with dinner today.”

“Well, I guess we'll leave the rest of that story for next time then!” Dad's gruff voice comes down the hall after them.

“Grampa was tellin' us a story 'bout a wizard that tried to turn a whole army into statues!”

Both of them love it when dad starts telling tales. Some of them are even true, usually the ones where he's talking about his mercenary days.

“That's a good one, I'd better not ruin the end for you.”

I put them back down and tousle the auburn hair they inherited from their mother. Picking up the bread and honey, I head toward the kitchen where I can already smell lunch being prepared.

Melanie stands near the large fireplace a pot of thick beef stew cooking over the fire. Every time I see her, it feels like the first time all over again. Long auburn hair draped along smooth shoulders. Her slender figure still curving perfectly all the way down, Dad still doesn't understand what I see in a woman lacking 'huge tracts of land.'

“Welcome back, Dear.”

“Sorry, I couldn't be back sooner.”

And when she turns to look at me, those eyes. Beautiful deep green eyes that I feel I could get lost in for hours on end if I let myself. Always calming and refreshing to see after even the hardest days. A knock at the door interrupts me this time, sadly.

I open the door to find Lord Hawkins. I salute and he returns it. What is he doing here?

“Hello, Watchman Nivar. I came by to give you this, you could call it 'hazard pay.' Despite how quickly we managed to take that thing down, it was quite dangerous. I'm off to give the rest of the men their shares, spend it wisely.”

With that, he hands me a large pouch full of coins, and heads back to a wagon with a chest on it with a few of his men and rides deeper into the town.

I place the bag on the kitchen table. Everyone gathers around after I say who was at the door. I empty the bag onto the table.

That's a lot of money, after stacking them in tens I find that it comes to two hundred Platinum Sovereigns. That's the kind of money that could buy decent magical arms and armor, or a house, depending on your priorities. I had heard of Lord Hawkins' bouts of generosity. But this...

Melanie asks, “Why did he give us so much money.”

“It was an interesting two days of work.”

'Interesting' is a code word I use when a routine workday becomes suddenly dangerous, but turns out alright in the end. It lets Dad know that there's more to the story for him to hear after I can get him alone. I don't want to worry my wife, and the kids wouldn't believe me if I said I got hurt. If it doesn't turn out all right in the end it's a 'debacle.'

I tell them how the last two days went, lightening the story. The stew is ready before the story is over. We eat lunch, I prepare for a peaceful day at home.

1-22 “Case Closed”

Stanton is dangling over a tree branch near the edge of the clearing. Did that gemtree mange to throw him over here? I spot his bow and a crumpled piece of iron a small ways away. I alert the rest of the group to his presence, as I go to pick them up. Looks like this used to be a helmet, and whatever crushed it also tore the chin strap.

Lady Isabella uses a spell to pick him off of the branch and gently lay him down on the ground. Lord Carlmon and Lady Celano examine him, he's still breathing. Large gashes on his forehead and cheek indicate he must have struck his head at some point, and his hardened leather jerkin is heavily scraped along his midsection. Both nobles channel healing magic, no scar is left behind. Stanton opens his eyes with a start.

“Look out for the thorns!”

He looks around a bit, rubs his head. “Where's my helmet? How long have I been out?”

“If you left yesterday, you've been out for a night. You'll need a new helmet, because this one is more of a plate now.”

I hold up the helmet that could still be used if your head was a sheet of paper.

“You managed not to land on your bow this time. Looks like it's learned how to get out of the way better than you have.”

I toss him his bow.

“Nivar, did they send you to look for me?”

“No, spent a while investigating. The Lords and Ladies showed up and let me know that leaving a piece of that thing in a tree was a bad move.”

“I dunno, looks like it made for a great fertilizer.”

“We came here, but had to rest for the night, we thought the thing would emit darkness like all of the other ones.”

“I had it covered, no need to hurry, huh?”

He looks around at the group, and must recognize them. He salutes as he slowly gets to his feet. He sees past the Lords and Ladies and looks somewhat confused.

“Why are all the trees knocked down?”

Lord Hawkins fills him in on the battle.

“Guess this standard issue stuff doesn't measure up to your armor at all.” Stanton looks down at his damaged jerkin. “For us it wasn't as big as when you got here. We took a look at it, I saw it start to move. It tossed Watchman Andrew into a tree nearby, I saw thorns forming above us. That's all I remember.” Sudden concern hits his face. “Did you find Watchmen Andrew or Gerald? They came here with me.”

“Guess we should go look for them.” Lord McGee is also skilled at tracking, and coordinates a search of the area for signs of the other two watchmen.

We find tracks of someone dragging something leading northward. Following them to the road, we find an activated light rod stuck into a tree. It's a watchman's signal, we're supposed to jam a light rod into the corner of a building if we go into an alleyway alone to follow someone suspicious. This lets other watchmen follow or report on the signal.

It's been here for hours, so it's almost gone out entirely. If he was heading to the city to get reinforcements, a watchman would have left this here to mark where to turn south off of the road. I remove it, we'll run into anyone sent looking for it on the way back to the city.

We find a large contingent of the castle's soldiery halfway back. They were deployed to deal with the threat. Lord Hawkins explains the situation to them, and we learn that both Watchmen Andrew and Gerald made it back alive. They weren't doing very well though. Andrew was unconscious and Gerald was stubbornly dragging him along even though his leg was broken. I'm sure that mobilization scared all of the bandits back into their holes for the day.

The lot of us make it back, The men and I take our leave of the Lords and Ladies and head back to the guard house to file our reports. I find myself glad that, if there aren't charges being placed, and no one gets killed, reports only need to be a list of items lost or spent. I unfortunately remember the bandits we had to kill yesterday, and end up writing out a full report.

I turn in the account of what happened over the last two days to Assistant Commander Staghorn, who gives me the rest of the day off for my effort and overtime. I thank him, and leave the guard house. Just as I'm leaving, I hear Stanton.

“Hold up, Nivar!” He runs out the door to catch up with me. “I'd like you to have this, as thanks for saving me out there, and finding me someone that could fix this old bow up good as new.”

He presses a long dagger in a finely made sheath into my hands. The pommel has a small emerald embedded in it.

“It's grade two enchanted, and further enchanted against plants. I'd been using it to clear paths for myself through brush. That bow is really important to me, so take it.”

“You don't...”

“I'm not taking it back!”

He runs back into the guard house with a wave before I can protest further. Something even grade one enchanted is very expensive. I draw the blade, finely honed and engraved with a vine pattern. I guess I'll replace my belt knife with this when I get home. It's such a nice gift, I should at least use it.

The trip home is peaceful, I pick up a fresh loaf of bread and some honey.

1-21 “Tree”

It was a very restful sleep, and an early awakening. We all finished breakfast before dawn. The sun must be just above the horizon now. The forest becomes quiet as we approach the place where I had encountered the amalgam. There wasn't a clearing here before.

A sky blue crystal tree at least fifty feet tall stands in the middle of a circle of uprooted and broken down trees. Its branches move regardless of the lack of wind. The area nearby the tree looks somewhat burned. As we approach the tree line, it bends its branches in one massive sweep, scratching the bark off of the trees at the border. It must still be growing if that was the first time it could reach these trees.

The Lords and Ladies start discussing what spells they should use before approaching, and who should stay back. They think those burns look like acid burns, one of them has a spell to protect against that.

Lord Hawkins calls me over, “You all have ranged weapons right?”

“Yes, sir, crossbows.”

“This thing can topple trees, I think it'd be best if you all stayed back and offered ranged support.”

“Yes, sir! You heard the lord, crossbows at the ready.”

I guess now it's time to find out if keeping my bolts in my bag instead of the belt box is a good idea. I reach in to pull out my crossbow and a bolt. It's already drawn and loaded when I withdraw my hand from the magical bag. That's... How does it do that?

Lords Hawkins, Hawklight, and Gimaim, as well as Ladies Maple and Hefthammer all advance toward the tree over the fallen trunks of trees uprooted by the corrupted one. Zilo flips up his hood, and his silhouette begins to fade as his cloak blends with the surrounding foliage, I quickly lose track of him. It's a good thing we can aim high to avoid friendly fire, though he probably knows how to avoid the line of fire if he does this frequently. Sephram stays between Lady Averdine and the tree, holding a defensive posture. Lord Mcgee starts firing arrows from an exquisite looking bow with remarkable speed.

The rest begin to cast spells. Lightning and fire burst forth, streaking toward the tree. Much of it dissipates as it contacts a hitherto unseen field around its trunk and branches. Lady Averdine finishes an incantation that leaves me feeling lighter, and it has obviously affected everyone else as we all begin moving faster.

Lord Alejandro turns out to be a spell-caster as well, I never would have guessed from the full suit of plate armor that he wears. I have heard armor interfered with one's ability to channel magical energy. The globe of fire he throws begs to differ, penetrating whatever protection surrounds the gemtree and leaving large cracks and scorch marks around the point of impact.

The tree makes reply by swinging massive branches down hammering on those that advanced with massive limbs. Those that are hit by these smashing attacks immediately receive healing magic from either Lord Carlmon or Lady Celano. A vine twists around and blasts a large gout of a greenish liquid that mostly dissipates where it contacts one of us but leaves distinct burns in the ground or trees that it contacts with. Lord Alejandro receives a volley of arrow sized splinters from the higher branches of the tree. All of them bounce off of what must be at least grade four armor. Crystalline roots also burst forth from the ground at Alejandro's feet, and are just as ineffective at penetrating his defenses.

The watchmen and I might as well not even be there, each volley of bolts we fire bounce off of the trunk. This thing has less gaps in its crystalline hide, and the gaps keep moving.

The advancing warriors make it to the trunk and begin smashing through the tree. Sword axe and hammer leaving cracks and notches with each swing. Lady Maple's punches are doing just as much as Lady Hefthammer's massive maul. Zilo's form fades back into view near the gemtree, he looks up it perhaps thinking of climbing it. He reconsiders and proceeds to stab at it with a pair of short swords.

More blasts of fire and bolts of lightning are launched. The gemtree seems to feel the warriors are a greater threat though as the root spears and branches are all focusing on them. Leaving only the occasional hail of thorns to threaten us, mostly aimed at Alejandro, whose spells seem to be doing the most damage. Only one even manages to break through the magical armor. It is quickly removed and the wound healed.

One of my bolts actually manages to hit a soft spot and stick, I wonder if that did any good.

Cracks begin to spread along the trunk of the gemtree. The constant hammering of spells and blades leaving the area near the ground looking much like the patch of cobblestone road in the city where a worker managed to spill a wheelbarrow of bricks from the second floor of a building he was working on.

Lady Averdine fires a quintet of small radiant bolts of energy at the gemtree. That was the last straw, the whole thing shatters and disintegrates. While everyone else starts congratulating each other on a good fight, I look for signs of Stanton.

I think I see him.

1-20 “Crepuscule”

We immediately head for the area where I had encountered the first amalgam with Stanton. Hopefully, if something dangerous did happen with that tree, Stanton got away safely. In the end though, it is too far for all of us to travel before it becomes dark. It is decided that if the resulting creature is likely to further the darkness, then it would be far better to camp the night and approach in the morning light.

Seeing the Lords and Ladies start to unpack their camping gear, Lady Averdine stops them and says, “Don't bother, I can do us better.”

With a few moments spent chanting and a few arcane gestures, a door appears. It stands freely, with its bottom a few inches from the forest floor. Turning the handle she, swings the door open, though there is no visible hinge that it attaches to. Behind the door, instead of the forest, is a well furnished room with several other doors leading out of it. She walks in and looks around the room for a bit, “Well, come on in.”

We all enter, the magical room. A lit fireplace sits along one wall, while almost all of the rest of the wall space is taken up by further doors leading out. What small portions of wall are left over are concealed behind statuary or paintings. Large comfortable looking chairs are arranged around a fine oaken table. Behind one door is a kitchen space, well stocked. The rest have bedrooms, too large to be next to each other in this small space. I don't think I could ever make it as a wizard, I'd spend too much time thinking about how all of these impossible things work...

Everyone in armor picks a room to unsuit in before coming back to the common room. It takes me a while to redetermine who is who now that the armor is off. Sephram offers to prepare a meal for us before we go to bed, Kenneth follows him offering to help. Hopefully the rookie knows how to cook. He quickly brings out several cups, bottles of wine and a bucket with chunks of ice inside. “This kitchen has everything,” excitement is clear on the rookie's face as he heads back into the kitchen.

Everyone else starts to drink, and after a short while Zilo starts up a tale from when he was working with a different group. I start to lose focus. I hope Stanton is doing okay, and Melanie is sure to be worried that I didn't come home this evening.

My distraction must have been apparent, even though I sat in a chair nearer to the fireplace. Lady Averdine walks over to me, “You don't seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I know everyone decided it would be safest to wait until dawn, but I feel like I should be going as fast as I can, what if Stanton is in trouble.”

“Do you know him particularly well?”

“No, but even though we just met this morning we've already saved each other's lives at least once.”

“Oh, that's too bad. I have a spell that allows you to speak with someone far away, but it only works if you know them very well.”

“Really, do you think I could talk with my wife? She's probably worried sick that I never came home today.”

“Certainly, just focus on the thought of her, while I cast the spell. You'll only have a few sentences to say, she'll be able to say a few back.”

Focusing on the thought of her isn't hard, she's already on my mind. The Lady chants a few words and taps my cheek and then my ear. A strange tingling sensation passes through my head, and suddenly I feel like I'm at home, right next to her.

“Melanie?”

*Nivar? You're home! Wait, where are you?*

Her voice sounds like I'm right there. Nothing is more calming than her voice, except for looking into her eyes.

“Sorry, I won't be able to make it home tonight. I'm camped out with some of the watchmen, and, you won't believe this, our Liberators. They had particular interest in something I was investigating. I'm talking to you through a spell. I don't know how long it will last, but I wanted you to know I was fine, and I'll be back tomorrow.”

*That's good, we were worried that something had happened. It's not like you to come home late. Be sure to tell us all about it.*

The tingling passes. The spell must have ended. “Thank you, milady.”

“It's no trouble,” a smile crosses Lady Averdine's face, “It's nice to see a man as concerned about his wife as you are.”

I follow her back toward the rest of the group just as a meal consisting of roast chicken, bread, and salad is brought in from the kitchen. Zilo is just wrapping up a story where a dragon, purported to be a vicious man slayer, scared off his companions and then proceeded to talk with him for hours on end. Turned out the beast hadn't left his cave for years upon years, and was feeling quite lonely.

When the meal ends, everyone starts heading into the bedrooms. Lady Averdine stops and counts the doors, “Oh no! I seem to have made one room to few... Sephram, I guess you'll just have to share my room tonight.”

Mischief is clearly played out on her face as Sephram straightens out and salutes. “Yes milady.”

His face is nearly as red as the wine. The watchmen that haven't left the room yet share knowing looks. We all go to bed. One skill I've learned since the city started growing, and my workload with it, is falling asleep immediately. The skill doesn't fail me now.

1-19 “Liberators”

There's thirteen of them. It takes me a second before I recognize the arms and armor of those in the lead of the formation, It's the Lords and Ladies, our Liberators. Eight of them are, at least. The other five joined their group later. I wonder if that makes them Lords as well, the king awarded the land to the group. I would think not, but I don't know the laws and politics of the realm in that regard. Regardless, I salute. The rest of the men follow my lead. Most of them salute back, some of the newer members seem unused to such attention.

At the front of the group are Lords Hawklight and Hawkins, Lady Hefthammer, and one of the new members of their group. In the middle is Lord Carlmon, Lady Maple, Rose the druid (who I've heard of simply because of that large lizard beast she tends to ride around), a priestess of The Sun, and a rather shady looking fellow. Quite literally shady, his cloak or leather armor must be magically generating a very small aura of darkness, a classic thief's trick for those that can afford it. In the rear are Lords Gray and McGee, an unarmored woman, and a rather heavily armored man with no weapons.

They are equipped much the same as when they freed us from Iztram, though some of their gear seems to have more of a glow of magic to it. There isn't a standard among them, most of their armor varies wildly, from the heavy adamant plate armor of Lord Hawklight to the unarmed and unarmored Lady Maple. Their weapons are less visibly varied, mostly swords and longbows, Lady Hefthammer's massive maul being a notable exception. Lady Maple also stands out from the rest, being one of those body-as-a-weapon types, unarmed and unarmored. Normally, I would think that's crazy, but I've heard multiple times about her punching through someone's breastplate, I guess if you have at it hard enough it really works.

They dismount, Lady Maple takes the opportunity to show off by dismounting with a flip and a cartwheel. They ask us about the creatures and the strange effect on this delta. They would like to see the body of the creature I slew. First, they'll want to check on the sword at the middle of the crystallization, though. Lady Averdine starts walking, I guess floating would be more accurate, towards the area we avoided during our sweep. We figured that the nearer to the epicenter, the less likely we wanted to be there in the dark. Our Liberators approach the crystal landscape, and when they are with a few feet it starts to recede before them. The crystal flakes up and disintegrates leaving behind the original terrain. I'd like an explanation for that, seeing it makes me feel like we did absolutely nothing for the last few hours by clearing away those amalgam plants.

While the rest of them go off to see the sword that's caused this mess, the shadowy fellow sticks behind and comes over to us. “So, how are the fine watchmen of Midrange doing this evening?”

Sam responds, “Feeling like we might just as well have stayed home and just told you guys to go talk to Lady Averdine.”

“How are they doing that?”

“I don't exactly know, myself. From what I've gathered, they found some fountain of energy that runs counter to this strange crystal infection. Since they had this power they decided to go around and do stuff about it. I've heard that the stuff infects through a wound if you leave a shard inside, or just spreads like mold if the source is large enough. Only the original eight of them have that ability though, so I figured I'd just wait and see how you all are doing.”

“So what do you do for them?” The rookie actually just asked that. From the way he moves and the outfit, he is clearly a scout or something similar.

“I'm Zilo, master scout, infiltrator, and trapman. Entry facilitation, as well as spotting and disabling traps, those are my specialty. If the opportunity presents itself, I also like to counter ambush. According to them, the last guy they had in charge of the role got himself killed. Wasn't even a trap that got him, he just didn't know his place on the battlefield.”

We talk and introduce ourselves. He fills me in on the names of the rest of the group that I don't know, Gimaim the dwarf, the priestess is Celano, the unarmored woman is Isabella the sorceress, and the armored yet unarmed man is Alejandro. It doesn't take too long before Lady Hefthammer comes back to speak with me.

“Milady.”

“Looks like the sword that was causing this is already missing. Since our mere presence seems to remove the infection, they've decided to jog around the area.”

She questions me about the details of the encounter, how we were injured, and who healed us. She looks relieved when I tell her we went to Ziegfried.

“Are you certain that no shrapnel from the thing was embedded inside any living thing nearby?”

The only piece I even remember breaking off was that horn that...

Crap.