Ptolus: The Tenth Precinct

[Trench]

Kinkade is a factotum with an emphasis on technology. Benson is a straight-forward fighter watchman with a temper. Standard rookie with a veteran partner here.

Kinkade's player is the same person who plays Renraw in Whizbang's Midwood campaign. So he puts a great deal of thought into his family tree. Kinkade's father was a former Watch Captain in the Temple Quarter, now dead. That's his father's greatsword he's stroking there. His mother we'll meet later...

Kinkade becomes a rather interesting character. Even when the player tries to play a decent, morally upstanding guy- he always seems to go off the map really easily. Some major game events are a result of Kinkade's actions in future adventures.

Benson is also interesting in a different way, in that the player plays him as the most "cop-like".

 

[Tock Chandler]

If it's OK for me to say something here, between Tock and Deevolly I'm going to come off as sex-obsessed! I play other kinds of characters, I promise, some without any Cha bonus!

 

[Trench]

Elissa Gladesmere - Longfinger's Guild Headquarters​

Elissa slips in through the door, eyeing the silvery stranger warily. Then she spots her guildleader, an older human male known as Hayman Knapp, seated at an ornate meeting table in the middle of the room.

"Guildmaster." she inclines her head in deference, then moves silently to a standing position on the opposite side of the table where she can keep both Knapp and the woman in view.

"How may I be of assistance?"

Knapp looks at Elissa and sighs. The other elf moves just behind him.

"We've had a very unusual opportunity come up."

"If by unusual you mean dangerous and idiotic," the woman mutters. The Guildmaster looks at her sharply and she looks away. When he turns back to Elissa, he seems unsure of how to proceed.

"There's been... well, an incident. Apparently, there was a burglary of some kind. And it started... problems."

"That have nothing to do with us," the elf retorts.

"You *think* Chelsean."

"I know," she says. "It's what you pay me for. Look," she turns to Elissa. "Parts of the city are going ballistic because of one shopkeeper. For whatever reason, everyone wanted a piece of this guy. The City Watch has their hands full and coincidentally... they're asking us for help."

The elf turns to Knapp, "Which is insane," she says.

Elissa opens and closes her mouth a few times in quick order, trying to fathom just what it is she's walked in to. "The City Watch... is asking us for help to solve a burglary? Use a thief to catch a thief? That is insane!"

It's obvious the silver elf is already agitated about this but the look on her guildmaster's face causes Elissa to pause a moment. "Sir? You've considered this? What could this shopkeeper have had, to cause such an uproar?"

"It's not just a burglary," Hayman looks hard at Chelsean. "It's a murder."

He lets that sink in for a moment as he pours himself a glass of whiskey. Elissa had heard stories of Knapp in his youth, but now he just seems tired. "It's more than a little unusual. We've always had a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy with the Watch. If one of our own is caught, they let them go but this..."

"Apparently this man made something. We're still not clear what, but it was enough to get the guilds rowdy. Now, we've asked... and in some cases spied," Hayman gives a sidelong glance to Chelsean "Our own to see if we were responsible. Everyone is as ignorant as we are."

"Which is happening a lot more often..." Chelsean mutters. Knapp continues. "We don't think we did this. Given the uproar, anyone who did would obviously come here to hide and we would protect them but right now it's not a bad idea getting an idea of what's going on and if it'll come back to haunt us."

"Like sending a thief to be a Watchman's pet?" Chelsean says. "Hayman, this could just as easily be a trap to pull information out of us."

"Which is why I'm sending someone that doesn't know much yet. No offense," he says to Elissa. "She doesn't even know where the real entrance is yet!"

Elissa blinks. That's news to her.

"If it is one of our own, let us know so we can do something about it. Quickly. If it isn't... well that may be helpful as well."

"Just DON'T mention the Guild affiliation," Chelsean snarls. "If they suss it out for themselves, fine. But the last thing this guild needs is to be tied to the Watch explicitly. We won't get a lick of respect if that's the case. We barely do now."

"We both agree on that, Featherhair," Knapp nods. "Elissa, we're a dying breed. If this is maybe a way to keep us viable..."

Knapp shakes his head and downs the rest of his drink. "So..." he looks at Elissa expectantly.

Her interest is sparked by the thoughts of a mystery, but almost immediately dampened at the sight of the tired form of her guildmaster. Hayman is clearly studying her intently, watching for her reaction.

"So..." Elissa muses over the information carefully, "A Shopkeeper makes something, nobody knows what it is, but it's enough that he was killed for it. And all the guilds are screaming, why? What's it to them? What makes this thing so dangerous?"

She looks from Hayman to Chelsean and back again. "To find this out, and more importantly who took it, you want me to join the City Watch. Or rather, they've asked for us to send a member. You want plausible deniability for the Longfingers Guild by sending me, while at the same time not telling any of the Watch where I'm actually from?"

Elissa crosses her arms in frustration. "First lock I pick while investigating, they're going to take me for a major crime family member and throw me in the brig!"

"No one is quite sure, no. It had something to do with writing, but that's all we know."

"I wasn't clear. Sorry, been a long day. Yes, it sounds crazy, but the Watch themselves will know who you are. Or at least some of them will. We just don't want that information disseminated to the public. To them, you're a Longfinger sent on retainer. To the rest of the city, just keep it mum."

"On retainer, huh? At least I'll be able to eat and have a roof over my head. And a regular paycheck! I'm guessing freelancing while on this particular assignment would be frowned upon?" Elissa grins. The sneer she elicits in response from Featherhair kills the levity instantly.

"I'll gather my things together. Which Watchhouse and Captain am I to report to?"

"The Guildsman District. It's been rough there lately, so watch it.

"Use the entrance in Midtown by the bookstore. That's the one we want people to know about anyway," Chelsean smirks.

 

[Trench]

And our final member of the Tenth. Elissa Gladesmere, elven rogue. The vast majority of the Tenth seems pretty vanilla. No real crazy choices of races or classes, but trust me- they make it interesting.

 

[Trench]

If it's OK for me to say something here, between Tock and Deevolly I'm going to come off as sex-obsessed! I play other kinds of characters, I promise, some without any Cha bonus!

heh. Yeah, but you play the likable selfish rogues so WELL.

 

[Trench]

Deevolly Bencez, Cipke Arnag, and Baeril Underhill- Midtown​

"Dee! Cipke!" The pair turn around to see a young watchman running toward them. "Herdling requested a meeting with you two. At the Guildsman Tower." The watchman's expression plainly shows he knows nothing behind the oddity of the location.

When the messenger arrives Deevolly cocks her eyebrows. "Herdling? Us, specifically? Wow."

"Well I think he said you Dee. And whoever you were with."

"So we have been noticed," Cipke says. "That can be either very good or very bad. Have we screwed up something lately?"

"Not me! Let's check it out!"

The watchman looks over his shoulder to see another watchman practically double-timing it down the street. Behind him is a gnome wearing the oddest outfit.

"Thank the gods!" He says. "Take him to the Guildsman Tower. He's your problem now!"

Without bothering to explain, he runs as fast as he can away from the lederhosen wearing gnome.

"Welcome to the party, fella. I'm Officer Bencez and this is the one that was with me."

"Hello," Cipke says. "I'm with her. Now you're with Us. And we're going There. Ptolus life is so simple."

"Look at all these Watchmen!" Baeril says brightly. "That wagon burglar doesn't stand a chance against all of you. If you'll all follow me, I'll show you where it is."

"That will have to be later," Cipke says. "She is to report to the Guildsman's Tower and I'm to be her second fiddle. If you have business there, we can walk together."

"What's going on at the Guildsman Tower?" The gnome asks. "Has it been buglarized, too? Why is it, do you think, that humans like building up, up, up so much? Is it tree envy? I imagine that's what the elves would say, tree envy. How are the arches in your boots?"

"Good. Not too high and not too low. Perfect for walking, trotting and even light running. They can even keep water out and at the end of the day I'm happy I'm wearing my leather boots made with Ullar leather. Ullar Leather, a name that stands for quality!"

Deevoly shakes her head. Cipke grew up next to the tannery and regularly promotes his neighbor's wares. She strongly suspects he gets a finder's fee for new business.

"Ullar Leather, interesting," Baeril chatters. "Do they have a shop in South Market? Or is it in North Market? I think it's funny how different the two markets are, don't you? I like the Spice Market. You can really get a nose full of different smells, but they make you pay for them if you sneeze, so you probably shouldn't do that. How long have you lived in Ptolus? Have you ever tried to climb the Spire? I think someone should try that, it looks pretty rocky from what I can see. Do you think the temple of the Watcher of the Skies will let me use their looking glass to peer at the Spire?"

"Not that much. I've picked up a thing or two. Ullar's leather is in the Guildsman's District, close to the South Market. Spice Market? I must try that. I've lived in Ptolus my entire life. No, I've never heard of anyone foolish enough to climb that wretched spire. Most likely those who tried it met quiet, sad fates. And on the Watcher of the Skies temple, sure, go ahead and ask. Worst that can happen is they say no to you and you're done."

"Now let's hustle, Dee. Otherwise you and 'the one with you' might incur into our bosses' wrath."

Clearly relieved to be done with the gnome, Deevolly smirks. "He couldn't get mad at ME! C'mon! Race ya!" Dee takes off.

"Ullar Leather to race better!" He runs after Dee.

"What fun! A foot race! Now we will see how good those boots really are!" Baeril calls out something in Gnomish, and a small bird soars down from above, where she had been following the group, and she flies ahead, circling both running watchmen, chirping merrily. "The loser has to buy the winner pastries!"

It is at this point the gnome begins to yodel, the fast rhythm matching his small boots hitting the cobblestones.

"Ooh, a pastry shop ..."

 

[Trench]

Oh yeah. Baeril does the annoying gnome bit to an EXTREME. In fact, Dee's player started the foot race in order to loose the little guy with his lower speed.

And here come the introduction of the Tenth's MVP, Half-Penny- Baeril's thrush familiar. As you see, Half-Penny becomes a vital member of the Tenth and I am always pleasantly surprised as to how Baeril's player uses what is commonly a neglected wizard feature.

 

[Trench]

Elissa Gladesmere- The Guildsman District​

Around midday, an inconspicuous sewer grate in a non-descript alley next to Quallin's Books is carefully moved aside once the coast is clear and a full backpack emerges, quickly followed by the slim elven form of Elissa Gladesmere. Once the grate is back in place, she hefts her pack, and slips quietly into Birch Street.

In front of the bookshop, she stops to get her bearings. The most famous part of Midtown is Delvers Square, probably a five to ten minute walk away given traffic. She spins about to face the opposite direction, and starts walking south towards the Guildsman District.

It's a pleasant enough walk at first, especially past the huge ivy-covered garden and grounds of the Herbalists Guild buildings, but eventually Elissa reaches the more workmanlike district of the Guilds. Pulling her cloak more fully around her head and shoulders, she consults a basic city map, and then redirects her steps to the City Watch tower.

The Herbalist Guild seems to exist simply to set up the disappointment one feels when they walk into the Guildsman District proper. Elissa's nose wrinkles at the acrid smoke that still continues to belch from all the smokestacks, causing the rain to leave black streaks on nearly every surface. The streets are dirty and strewn with leftover debris from various forges and mills at the best of times, but now glass is found every half a block where windows have been broken.

Elissa notices workers rushing either home or to work quickly, almost frantically. At one point, the rogue sees two men walk side by side, when they suddenly pull large Ironworker's hammers from under their aprons and smash the windows of a small shop. They run off before the owner is able to exit the front door, brandishing a short sword.

Ahead on Constable Way, just past St. Daris's Church, Elissa can hear raised voices from where the Guildsman Tower would be.

Keeping one hand about the hilt of a dagger concealed in her cloak, Elissa cautiously makes her way to the source of the noise. As Elissa creeps forward, she sees a small crowd of maybe ten to fifteen men near the entrance of the Tower, each split up into small groups of three or so. They mostly seem to be milling about and muttering to themselves, throwing vicious glances to each other. The two guards stationed at the front entrance keep their hands on their swords and watch them nervously.

The noise seems to come from a wiry man that no one is paying attention to, save a blonde elf watching him with rapt attention. The speaker is standing on top of an upturned crate and pumping a fist full of broadsheets in the air.

"-Frickard was a man who knew the value of the people! He created this tool FOR the people! To make their voices heard! And this is why the Empire silenced him! They are afraid of the people's voice!"

 

[Trench]

Felix soon finds himself heading toward St. Daris's Church, although he corrects himself soon enough to angle back toward the watchtower where the noise emanates from. The wiry man has whipped himself into a frenzy of oratory.

"He knew a revolution was at hand! A revolution to found a Free Republic founded by the people! The Empire is dead!"

"Mocharum's Teeth give it a rest!" a dwarf yells. Most of the crowd seems to agree. Nonetheless, the relentless speech seems to have the unintended effect of increasing the annoyance each of the small groups continue to feel toward each other.

Felix watches the spectacle long enough to notice an elven woman trying to peer around the crowd. As the cleric does so, he's almost run down by a pair of whooping and red-faced City Watchmen, followed by a yodelling gnome who skids on the wet stones straight into Felix's thigh.

Felix leans down to steady Baeril.

"Are you okay, sir? Is everything all right?"

Without seeming to take a breath, the gnome begins to jabber.

"What an interesting helmet you have! What sort of dragon is that supposed to be? You know, Ptolus is supposed to have dragons, but I've never seen one. Do you suppose they only come out at night, like bats? Bats and swallows are active at dusk to eat insects, but I don't imagine that dragons eat insects. They'd have to eat an awful lot of them! Do you know if that pastry shop is any good? Can I try on your helmet? You're very tall, I bet you are good at getting things down from tall shelves. Let's go to that pastry shop, I'm hungry."

Elissa looks back to see the collision. Farther down the street, she also sees two more watchmen walking toward the tower, as Kinkade and Benson come to the end of their long hike.

"Great, another crackpot," Benson grumbles as he walks past the ranting man, just restraining himself from bumping into the man, hard. He does, however, accept the paper the man thrusts at him, giving it a quick read to see what it says.

Kinkade watches his companion trod off, a little disappointed at something. He then searches nearby the wiry man to see if there are any other empty crates.

Felix looks over to the gathering crowd, a little non-plussed by Baeril's enthusiasm.

"Unfortunately, I have a prior engagement. There should be someone to help you at the pasty shop, however. I'm sure that they'd be happy to help a paying customer. Tell me, do you happen to know if that's the Guardsman Tower?"

"I don't know, I think so," Baeril says. "These are guardsmen. I always just follow people who are going where I want to go, although sometimes they go different places, but that's really interesting, too."

Still talking, Baeril walks off across the street to the pastry shop, his thrush perched on his cap.
Benson snorts at the copy of the Ptolus Herald. The headline screams that "VISONARY SCRIBE CADDERLY FRICKARD MURDERED BY WATCH!"

"Hey, look at this - apparently we killed someone. A scribe."

Benson stops the wiry man mid-rant. "Hey, buddy, I have a few questions for you. Did you print this story?"

Kinkade ends his search prematurely, watching the situation intently.

'Why?" The wiry man looks disdainfully at Benson. "So you could silence ME as well? SILENCE THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE?!?"

"Easy, Benson," Kinkade says. "Tensions are high enough."

"We don't want to silence you, sir," he says to the ranting man, trying to use an easy manner to calm the man. "In fact, I'd love to talk to you more about a free society. One where we're all equals. But we can't be equal if you're up there shouting at me."

Cipke rushes up panting... he needs to work out more. "What's... what's going on?"

A burly man with red hair and and wearing a Guild badge on his dusty clothes turns toward Cipke and notices his Watch clothes. "Damnable metalworkers causing it all, sir. You know what's good for you, I'd arrest the lot of them."

"That's easy to say wearing THAT!" the orator points accusingly at Kinkade's uniform.

"Would you SHUT IT already!" the burly redhead by Cipke shouts. "You're worse than they are!"

"What?" the dwarf in the crowd snarls.

The redhead smirks, as do some of the men around him. "Oh, you heard me," he says.

"Everyone, please calm down. This is Ptolus. This is the greatest city in the known world. Ideas can't hurt us, nor can civility." Deevolly smiles warmly. "Let's talk like civilized folks."

Meanwhile, the pastry shop Baeril walks to has seen better days, its door boarded up from being broken in earlier. Baeril can see a face peeking out from the window, but as the gnome approaches the curtain is closed quickly.

"Hello, hello? Not open for business? Perhaps you have a bit of pastry left over that you could sell me? My mother makes a nice one filled with plum jam and covered in powdered sugar. I haven't had a bite to eat in several hours and I'm just famished. Hello? I won't hurt you. I'm just looking for ein Bissen zum zu essen."

Quietly observing the mob, Elissa winds her way around the back of the group and makes her way to the tower entrance.

One of the guards nearly jumps out of his skin to see Elissa threading her way through the angry bodies. He nearly draws his longsword.

"AH.... Stay... stay back. We can't allow anyone in! It's, it's..."

"Lothian's balls," the other guard swears. "Listen lady, every other Watchman in the district is breaking up fights. We need men."

In the crowd many things happen at once. The wiry man raises himself up to his full (not very tall) height in front of Kinkade and Benson. "YOU PREVENT EGALITARIANISIM BY THAT VERY ATTITUDE!"

"Wow they're letting little girls in the Watch?" the redhead snarls at Deevolly. "They must be taking their cues from your boys Theurin." The man reaches around and grabs at Deevoly "Tell you what though, I can civilize you right quick you give me a few minutes..."

"You trying to disprove that saying Russell?" the dwarf laughs. "What is it now? 'You don't try to break a brick'. Course we all know the rest of it is 'Unless it's their limp-"

And that's when the dwarf gets a club to the back of his head from a group that had snuck up behind him. At that same moment, the orator seems to be overwhelmed with disgust for the Empire and takes a weak swing at Kinkade. The crowd surges forward toward each other, screaming for blood. And the new arrivals find themselves right in the thick of it.

 

[Trench]

The thing about PbP is that a lot of actions and conversations can happen at once in the same scene. Especially if it's a mob scene. I tried to clean it up as best I could, but feel free to let me know if it's confusing at all.