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.