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.

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.

1-3 “HQ”

“Watchman Nivar, strange to see you back at this hour, what do you need?”

I salute Assistant Commander Staghorn before responding.

“Sir, I finally have a lead on all of those missing animals. There's a trail this time, but the rain is rolling in. Are any of the trackers available?” I say any, though I'd rather not have to work with Tracker Percival. That guy is really annoying, even if he is a good tracker.

“Really now? That's some good news, not enough of that around here lately.” He won't say it but I know what he's referring to. The city finally got large enough to draw the interest of organized crime, caught someone trying to sell blue-powder in the alleyways a few days ago. “I think Tracker Stanton is in the yard shooting some rounds of target practice. Why don't you go get him.”

Thank goodness he knows to leave it at that, if The Commander was in I'd have to refuse another promotion. They like my work, but they want me out of the city and on road patrol, and I care more for the people that live here than the constant caravans running through to get the best prices.

Haven't seen Tracker Stanton much, he often gets sent out to deal with wolves or other predators that decide to come and attack livestock. If he determines the track to just be some animal I'm supposed to leave it to him to deal with a problem like this one. If he thinks its something else, then I'll be coming along for protection. I've heard he's better with his bow than he is at following a trail. Then again, I hear he's very good with that bow.

I go around back to the guard house training yard, just big enough to have a decent archery range, though people practicing at hand to hand and melee have to trust the archers to be able to shoot relatively straight. Nearly got hit by a misfire while demonstrating tripping techniques here. Not the archers fault, the crossbow's lever broke, that one made administration change the layout of the training grounds. I hear we're getting a shipment of Dwarven gear. Until that shows up I'll stick to my personal equipment. Maybe even after it arrives, it's much better than standard gear.

Never used my crossbow off of the range here, though dad constantly reminds me that I should always have a ranged weapon handy. Out of respect for his military experience I still practice with it and keep it in my magic pouch, always get distracted when I try to think of how that pouch works. This time I convince myself, 'It's magic, I should focus for now.'

There he is, has the build I'd expect of a tracker, long legs, light frame, wiry build. Practicing with a non-standard issue longbow, he has a good rhythm going, load, aim, fire, hit, load, aim, fire, hit. “Tracker Stanton?” He nods but keeps on firing, “Are you familiar with the missing animals, west side? We thought it might have been theft because of the lack of tracks, but this time some were left. I'd like you to take a look.”

“Ah, so you're Watchman Nivar, you've got fans up top, they seem to think if they can get you out of the city and on the roads that they won't need to worry about bandits ever again.”

“So I've heard.” I hope my tone says: please, drop it here. This is why I can't stand Tracker Percival.

“Finally have tracks to work with, any idea what they might be?” He looks over, gray eyes, that's not a common sight.

Thank you, glad he can keep his head on something that matters. “No, they don't look familiar. It has claws, and can drag away a cow without leaving a blood trail,” I hadn't thought about that part before. How could something so big be taken back so cleanly? No blood and not much sign of struggle on the cow's end, “I suspect that, whatever it is, it may be is poisonous.”

“Well now, I guess it's a two man job, then. Drinks are on me, when we get back.”

I guess he hasn't heard that I don't drink.