1-13 “At The Gates”

I make it back to the guard house. Stanton has been sent out to retrieve the corpse of the thing that ate him, with three other watchmen. He should be fine, the thing is already dead.

The assistant commander gives me permission to take a squad of watchmen with me to go to the Averdine Estate. There are a dozen watchmen on standby at the guard house. Some complain that we keep too many on standby, in my opinion we just need more all around. The six men assigned to to back me up are ready almost immediately, would've been immediately if one of them wasn't a complete rookie. All of them seem to be using the standard issue equipment. I don't recognize any of them though. It's strange going from knowing everyone in town to not even knowing most of the people you work with.

It creeps towards evening as we travel to the Averdine Estate. We get there without issue. Along the way I take the time to learn everyone's names and examine their posture as we march along the road. There's Mario, he's the oldest out of the men that were assigned to help. Sam has been around and seems to have the most real experience fighting and investigating. Gordon, Thomas, and Harold all seem pretty average. Then there's Kenneth, the rookie. He doesn't even seem to really know how to keep pace with the armor on. The chain haubergeon doesn't seem to fit him quite right, is that because the haubergeon is standard issue or because he put it on backwards? Maybe both...

I let them know what I've heard about Lady Averdine. Honestly, I don't think seven men is enough to deal with a sorceress of her caliber. If she turns out to be at the bottom of this, and hostile, we would probably have to retreat.

We round the bend, and the gate to the grounds comes into view. A fifteen foot wall surrounds the estate. An iron barred gate fills the only opening. The smell of the forest gives way to the scent of flowers wafting from the other side of the wall.

Looks like the gate guard is a huge armored fellow.

“That guy is huge!” The rookie is the first to speak up about him as we approach.

“Remember, we're here to investigate, not pick fights. The only reason I even suspect them is because the creature was clearly magical in nature.”

As we get closer, I notice that the guardian isn't moving or paying us any heed. He wears some very fine looking plate armor. Though I'm not sure how he moves in all of that, I don't see any gaps in it even at the joints. The twin swords he's carrying are also uncannily large. I'd heard the gate guard was a good fighter focusing on ambidextrous combat, but I never heard about him being ten feet tall.

We're only about 15 feet away when I see it. There isn't anyone in that armor, and yet, now it's turning towards me. It must be a steel golem, never thought I'd see one of those. I really hope this won't get violent now, I don't know if all of the guards in town combined could deal with one of these, from what I've heard about them.

“GREETINGS TOWN WATCHMAN. HOW MAY I BE OF ASSISTANCE?” Its voice sounds like someone speaking with his head in a pot. Despite its monotone it also sounds slightly cheery.

“I'm watchman Nivar, I'm here to ask Lady Averdine a few questions.”

“ONE MOMENT PLEASE.”

A short time passes, and then a woman's voice sounds from inside the great helm that serves as the golem's head, “Hello, I'll be down shortly.”

1-12 “Butler”

I check out both corners on this side of the room as I pass them, and the door closes behind me. I enter the first antechamber. Having passed the corners and confirmed them as empty, I keep my eyes on the three doors leading into the room. It may seem like paranoia, but this time I'm finally going to catch him. He's not going to sneak up on . . .

“Hello Mister Denwatch, what brings you here today?”

I jump slightly in surprise and turn around to face The Keep's head butler Theomund, how the bloody hell does he manage to do that, every time. I have never once seen him enter a room, he's just always there.

He looks better than he used to while Iztram was in charge. He's a fair bit younger than I am, but you wouldn't know it by looking at him. His hair is flecked with gray and his eyes are those of a man who has seen too much. Rumor has it that Iztram had him do some pretty outrageous things, even had him carry out assassinations. Though considering what Iztram did to his parents, maybe he needed to go unnoticed all the time in order to avoid random punishment.

“We received orders from Lady Hefthammer to report any 'crystalline phenomena' to the Lords and Ladies here.”

“I would let you in to see them, but they left on urgent business with the neighboring duchy to our East, and aren't expected back for a few days. Would you like me to take the message and have them contact you when they return?”

They do come and go fairly frequently, sometimes I wonder how much of what they're doing is business and how much is just running off and doing heroic deeds. I relay the story to him, and let him know that I intend to investigate the Averdine estate.

“I doubt she's at the bottom of this, but she could be a good source of information, if the Masters come back early I'll let them know that's where you're headed.”

“Thank you.”

I pass by him on my way toward the exit, and as I do I turn suddenly. It's too late though, empty. I've also still yet to see him leave a room...

1-11 “Castle”

At the guard house, we report in to the assistant commander once again, suggesting that we take some men to the Averdine Estate down the west road. Upon description of the creature he digs through some papers on his desk. He pulls one out and begins to read.

“Regarding Crystalline Phenomena: By order of Lady Hefthammer of Midrange Keep, any discovery of any beasts or other beings that appear either to be growing crystalline protrusions, or are seemingly primarily constructed out of any sort of crystal should be immediately reported to one of the Lords or Ladies of The Keep. Caution should be taken around such beings. While strength of any particular being varies, some have been encountered that pose greater threat than an adult dragon. Flee if possible. If combat ensues, be sure to fully remove any portions of crystalline shrapnel from any wounds to yourself or any other wildlife or foliage nearby.

“That came in just this morning, it's been caught up in who knows what for the last two weeks.”

Notices like this always seem to be delayed for outrageous amounts of time around here. Personally, I think someone has been paid off to go through them all and make sure any related to the new 'big names' in the city get 'lost'.

I decide to run straight to the keep and give my report directly. Stanton stays behind to patch up his armor.

The portcullis at the castle wall is amazingly elaborate, after dropping bars are somehow pressed through the crossed bars of the gate and into the other side of the gatehouse. Once completely barred, the surface is etched with runes in a circular pattern around the middle and an engraving of a shield in the middle. I sometimes wonder if there's any magic behind that or if it's just decorative.

All of the castle soldiers seem to be very well equipped, chain hauberks and chausses under breast plates, splinted vambraces and greaves. Not a fan of the helmets though, bascinets with aventail to protect the face. I'm just not convinced that a single layer of chain is sufficient, and it makes them all look rather silly; that might just be me though. I've never been up close to examine the workmanship of the weapons but from what I've seen they are at least adequate, if not well made. Most of the troops patrolling the grounds walk around with halberds or glaives, those on the walls have shields slung at their backs, swords of varying styles at theirs belts and crossbows at the ready. I hadn't really thought of it before, is the quality of their gear is only due to the fact that these men were transferred here from the capital city, or are our Liberators really working at getting all of us stuff of this quality?

The courtyard is also well maintained. Paths wind around small flower beds or patches of maintained grass. Trees infrequently dot the area. Ever since our Liberators came into power here the castle grounds have been left open to the public, I'm surprised they've managed to keep the place so clean.

I end up having to wait for the guard at the door to let me through. I'm held up because my gear isn't standard issue. I can't trust that stuff with my life. We do need new gear. The armor is always due for repair and the weapons are dangerous to the user at worst and shoddy at best. I use gear dad has given me from his mercenary days, breastplate over hardened leather with steel joint guards and a well made halberd. Dad is always telling me that all of it is magical, I have to admit that they never seem to show signs of daily wear and tear. I wonder if that dwarven gear is ever actually going to come in or if it's just a rumor, I might start using it if that becomes standard issue.

My identity is confirmed, and I am allowed in.

1-10 “Ziegfried”

We get through the city quickly, even though Stanton still seems to be having trouble keeping a good pace.

The Temple of the sun is relatively unchanged from when the city was just a village, it just looks like a larger version of the small church it used to be. It's a simple enough building, several rows of seating laid out in front of an altar and around a pillar in the center of the room. The roof is a glass pavilion over the main room, and the placement of the pillar's shadow cast from the sunlight above is a good way to tell the time. A small donation box sits by the door, it doesn't have a lock.

People come and go regularly. Its a fair bit after noon now, though, so the place is probably empty except for Ziegfried. Common times of worship are Sunrise Sunset and Zenith. Sure enough, as we head in the place is empty. Ziegfried pops out of a room in the back upon hearing the door open and close.

He's an older gentleman, neatly trimmed white beard and hair. White robes displaying the signature orange and yellow sun knot. He is a man that enjoys simplicity, I've heard that many of the priests in larger cities use gold instead of plain colors. He see's Stanton behind me and his face changes from kindly welcoming to concerned, he knows the only reason I come here with other people.

“Greetings, do you have time to care for two watchmen injured in the line of duty?”

“Come forward, Nivar, and who is this you have brought with you?” Ziegrfied waves us over toward the altar.

“This is tracker Stanton.”

“Ah, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Ziegfried makes a hand gesture, one of many I've seen him use in greeting to another. I've asked him what they meant, but I can't manage to remember all that he said.

Stanton looks somewhat uncomfortable. Perhaps he's had a bad encounter with clergy in others towns. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

If Ziegfried noticed it, he leaves the subject be, “What has happened?”

I give him a quick description of the creature we fought, and the unusual pain lingering in my arm. Stanton describes his lasting fatigue and disorientation. He has us take off our upper armor to get a look at the wounds. He chants something, and places his hand over each in turn. Each pass his hand glows softly. “It looks like these will take a bit more power,” He grabs a silver sun knot off of the altar and holds it close to his face as he chants once again, this time louder and more rhythmically. His hand grows bright as he places it over the cut on my arm and then the graze on my shoulder. The cut closes and the pain subsides. Soon, there is nothing left to even show that I had been injured in the first place. “I don't know what those teeth had on them, but they caused some sort of residual corruption. That wasn't a clean wound.” He turns to Stanton, “I suppose I should ask you, do you want a scar or would you like it healed properly?”

He'd taken to asking this almost as a joke ever since one of the men had been disappointed that he had nothing to show off after being healed. It, surprisingly, actually seems to take more work for him to heal in a way that leaves one. He knows I don't want them, they worry my wife.

“Whichever is easier for you, I suppose,” Stanton may have just taken the record for most apathetic look.

“You should lay down, healing the wound should be easy enough, but the thing took some of your very life force, not much though. I think I can fix you up quickly enough. The restoration ritual takes a little while, less, if you hold still.”

Stanton rests on one of the long seats while Ziegfried tends to him. I go and drop what spare money I have on me in the donation box. After some time, much more than a little while, Ziegfried is done. Stanton gets up and looks much better off.

“Also, while we were fighting my bow was broken, do you think you could repair it as well as you repaired us?” Stanton doesn't look hopeful, and holds the two sections of his bow out.

“Certainly, that won't be hard. Just press the broken ends together.”

Stanton does, looking skeptical, and Ziegfried chants something different. I haven't come here for worship much, but I have heard almost all of his healing chants before, or at least I've heard a lot of them. A glow surrounds the bow, and when he stops chanting, it looks even better than it did before. Stanton bends it and strings it. He pulls at the string and his face shows how happy he is. He hugs the old man, “Thank you!”

“You're welcome, I enjoy helping those that help keep the city safe. Please though, don't go telling everyone what I did here. I do better work in a small city than I would if I was pulled off to the capital to be a high priest. May the sun light your way.”

As we leave, Stanton drops what must have been all the money on him into the donation box. As we walk towards the guard house he can't stop talking about how the old man isn't like any of the other priests he had run into in the cities he'd been in before. From the way he talks it would seem that he's had enough preaching for a lifetime, and all he was expecting was a long sermon.

To change the subject while out in public, I remind him that we still have a case to work on and that we still don't know what that thing was or here it came from. We'll have to ask the commander or assistant commander what to do next.

1-9 “Enforcement”

“Halt, drop your weapons! You are under arrest. Resist, and I will use force!”

Who am I fooling? All five of us know that this situation is going to turn out violently. Surprised it made them stop a beat before charging, though. Stanton had better reload fast, I don't like three on one odds.

They prove that their skills are as shoddy as their equipment, charging even though there is a fair amount of brush between us and I have a weapon with more reach. I'd go for non-lethal blows, but I'm not in condition to hold back against multiple people that are clearly going to try their best, as poor as that may be, to kill me.

I thrust the tip of my halberd into the chest of the guy on the right and pace backwards to keep distance as the other two vault the bush. I trip one with a sweep of my weapon. I'm slow to bring it back up to defend with this arm wound, but the other bandit catches a crossbow bolt to the neck as he closes on me. He falls and blood begins to pool around him quickly, must've hit an artery. The guy on the ground tries to get up, but I kick him over. I keep him at the tip of my halberd.

“I repeat, you are under arrest. Resist, and I will use force.”

For emphasis I poke him in the collarbone. Must be greener than green, he faints. Stanton walks over while I pull shackles out from my bag.

“Thanks for the save, I think we should tie this guy to a tree by the road for a patrol to find. We are in a bit of a hurry. I'd drag him along if we weren't. Check the guy I stabbed.”

I bind the guys arms behind his back, It'll be a pain to drag him all the way to the road, especially if he wakes up and is uncooperative. Stanton, checks on the first two that got dropped.

“First guy I shot is dead, got a clean shot right into his temple. The other is also dead. The one you stabbed is still alive but is probably going to bleed out before we even hit the road.”

He looks as bad a Stanton says, there wouldn't be any point in dragging him along too.

“Help me carry this one, then. We'll leave a note telling the patrol where to find these bodies.”

We heft the survivor between us and head for the road. We get there without any further issue. I tie him to the side of a tree and secure his legs while I'm at it. He won't be going anywhere without help, and those manacles will be near impossible to get of without the right key, or losing a hand. A patrol passes us as we head along the path back to town. I tell them what to expect down the road. They'll take care of that one.

The remainder of the trip is uneventful, we're back.

1-8 “Way Back”

The path back should be faster than the circuitous trail we had to follow to get this far. It's a straight line north to a road that leads back to town. Following the road should be safe and quick. I doubt any bandits would attacks us on the road. In the woods, though, they wouldn't have to worry about our patrols coming upon them.

It's stopped raining. How did I miss that? The sun is shining brightly. The leaves above us keep the area shady. Perhaps that's what caused the darkness to dissipate before. The mud is still going to slow us down though, and make us easy to track if anyone would want to...

Halfway to the road. Stanton can walk on his own without stumbling now. I hope he can fight. I think I hear a group that could be trouble up ahead. I stow my halberd in my magical bag to keep a lower profile, “Should we go around and hope they aren't going the same way, or should we check them out and try to avoid them after observing for a while?”

We both stop walking, Stanton closes his eyes and turns towards the sound of voices ahead, probably focusing on the sound, “ I think it's a small group. If I weren't feeling so out of it here I'd go check if they were thugs, and then I'd either go around them opposite of the direction they were going or try to make an arrest, depending on group size. Can you sneak up to them do you think or should we trust to luck that they aren't coming towards us or going the same way we choose to?”

“I think I could. Take this and stay close enough to track me, but still be out of sight,” I hand him the crossbow from my magical bag, and my beltbox of bolts. I hope he can still pull the string back with that shoulder wound.

“Right, this looks like a fairly good one, this isn't standard is it?”

“No, it's a hand me down from my father's mercenary days. 'Always keep a ranged weapon on you, you never know when one will save your life,' he would say. How about yours?”

He doesn't respond, I think that subject might be a bit touchy from the look on his face, best leave that until after it's fixed. He draws the string with little trouble. How strong is that bow he's been using? He does fumble with the beltbox a little though, probably used to a quiver.

How has it never occurred to me to just pull each bolt out of my magic bag individually before? FOCUS!

I move ahead. Its hard to keep silent in the muddy ground, but I manage not to raise any obvious suspicion as I creep forward. I can hear them clearly, at least two men talking, they're frustrated by our erratic patrol schedule. Probably at least four from the sound of footsteps, they aren't cautious at all right now. Keeping low, I peek around a thick bush.

Three men, poorly armed. Patchwork leather armor slightly modified to keep brush stuck to it for camouflage. I definitely heard enough footsteps for four before.

The familiar crack of my crossbow being fired, a yell of pain, and a body falls behind me. Knife out, he must have heard me, and decided to check it out silently.

“That came from over there!”

“Sounded like Kestral yelling.”

Good shot from Stanton at least, looks like a fight is inevitable now, though. I pull out my halberd and stand to face them.

1-7 “Condition”

There he is, still stuck. His eyes can move at least, and he's breathing shallowly. He's covered in some sort of slime, I start using what water I have left in my waterskin to wash it off, I can't imagine that stuff is healthy for him. “Stanton, can you fight this? It's some sort of magic,” I end up using his waterskin to wash even more of this goo off before he can move enough to reply, the goo must help keep you paralyzed while it digests, or whatever it does after eating you.

“The hell was that? I felt like I was being drained away, losing track of myself amidst the thoughts of animals. How long was I in there?” I already expected that the amalgam had eaten the other animal and absorbed them somehow, Stanton's statement was just a confirmation.

“Only a few seconds I think I got to you before a minute had passed. Can you walk?” His shoulder wound is pretty nasty, pierced right through and out the other side. It can't be good if any more goo gets into it, either. I bust a Staunch stick over it. It starts to mend enough to keep it clean until we can see a real healer. Would be a good idea for me to tear a piece of cloth to bandage my lower arm where the tooth cut me.

“Gimme a sec,” I help him to his feet. He seems a bit unsteady, so I stay close to him so he can catch his balance on me, if he stumbles. He stretches a little “Ow, I think I must've cracked a rib or two when it hit me, but I think I can manage.”

“I think it's dead. What should we do with the corpse?” Almost an afterthought. I don't think I could leave Stanton here alone, not in his current condition, so it's rather obvious that we have to get back and healed first anyway.

“Better question, where's my bow?” He dropped it when the thing smashed into him. I pick it up for him, its snapped in two. He starts swearing loudly.

I interrupt, “I think it could be fixed by the priest in the temple of The Sun. We should head there anyway, he's the best healer I know of.”

“But, the clergy always charge so much in 'tithes' or 'alms' when you ask them to do something like that.”

“Not this one. Just don't go telling everyone how good he is, he doesn't seem to want the rest of his order to know about his ability.”

He looks confused. I don't blame him, Old Ziegfried might be the towns best kept secret. He's been in town since before it started to grow. He always patches up the watchmen who come to him for on duty injuries, free of charge. Though he has you promise not to let anyone in on the secret unless they are going to need his services in the immediate future. I'd brought one guy to him who's arm had nearly been torn off during a fight with one of the thugs hired by the newer crime syndicates. It was sore for week but it was fixed. He doesn't even point it out ever; no 'I need to eat so a small donation would be appreciated.' (Which might be why he gets so many in the first place.)

“After we get patched up, I think I would like to pay the Averdines a visit with a few men and make sure they aren't responsible for this.”

Really, I just hope we can get to town without issue.

1-6 “Slayer”

It rushes at me. Focusing on the pain and my duty to save Stanton, I throw myself to the side. It misses me and continues into a tree. Considering that tongue, I decide the reach of a halberd isn't better than the protection of a shield. I drop the halberd and pull my shield out of my bag, it's already properly equipped as I withdraw my arm.

How does this bag do that? FOCUS!

I draw my shortsword as the beast turns back towards me. One of its antlers must have stuck in the trees, part of it is broken off now. The light sticks are dying strangely early, but for some reason the level of light in the area is increasing, maybe it's had its fill of light and can't eat anymore. I can see more clearly, the joints, and the stomach bulge look more organic. I will focus my swings there.

The amalgam fires its tongue at me once again, I feel the punch of it on my shield, the tongue is deflected. I rush forward and to the side as it snaps at me. First things first, I swipe my sword along its flank. The blade cuts cleanly through. Stanton flops unceremoniously to the ground, still stuck in that position. The thing motions with its head as if howling in pain.

The amalgam kicks back at me with a clawed hoof. I deflect the shot with my shield, my arm wound doesn't appreciate it, and thrust my sword into the thing's knee, crippling blows for against the larger opponent. It staggers as it kicks out with the other rear leg. Again, I catch the shot on my shield. This time, though, the shot is centered and knocks me down, my shoulder flares in pain.

It turns around as I try to get up. I think I tore that arm wound further. I can't put my weight on it, thank the gods it's my off hand. It tries to bite. I shove my shield into its mouth as I pull my arm out of it. OW! I am caught by one of the teeth on my way back, at least it has helped pull me back to my feet.

It tries to shake my shield out of its mouth. I bring my sword down into the top of its neck. It starts seizing, and falls to the side. I go back to my halberd, pick it up and use it to decapitate the beast, no sense being close enough to get knocked out by a random spasm. The spasms stop. That was a mistake, ow, should've used a staunch stick on the wound on my arm first. Actually, should've used a staunch stick on that before fighting further.

Staunch sticks, every watchman is supposed to keep two on him at all times. These things are very nice, you crack one over a wound and it stops the bleeding and helps prevent further degradation. You still need to find a healer or medic to treat it properly, but at least it stops you from bleeding out or, in my case, tearing a wound further. I apply one to the gash on my upper arm that I foolishly tore further already. I should make sure I don't need to use one on Stanton before healing the cut I got from its tooth, they aren't standard issue for trackers.

I move to check on Stanton.