Ptolus: The Legend of Longcoat


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"I've got plenty of better places to go. Come on let's get out of this stinking dump before we get impressed into the Watch. A fate worse than death that'd be."
 

"Err, I agree," Vanden says, glancing anxiously at the half-orc. "It would probably be best if we were moving on."

To the constable, he shrugs and bows his head. "Our thanks, good sir."
 


"Ptolus and their !@#$ing paperwork. Imperial !@#$ing bureaucrats." Garn heads out with the others. Giving the Watchman one last grinning wink as he goes.
 

The Dockmaster's tower is even busier than the city watch's station house, with sailors and merchants standing in more of a mob than a queue, paperwork in their hands, waiting to either retrieve a document from the Dockmaster's descending basket or to shove a document of their own inside.

The dark-haired girl spots the group approaching -- they stick out like a sore thumb amidst the mariners and merchants -- and she waves and points to the basket, leading to some grumblings from those waiting their turn.
 

Shuffling through the crowd of sailors Garnet spots the dockmaster's servant girl. Pointing at her he speaks to his companions. "Seems our little friend has given us some priority."
 

Garn presses forward snarling at those who voice objections. He clears a path to the basket so their verification papers can be passed up in return for the reward.
 

Maugra keeps pace with Garn, though it is difficult with her shorter stature. She wants to make sure they don't end up starting something with the assembled sailors who all probably have a similarly surly nature.
 

The sea captains and merchants grumble as the basket ascends, with the letter from the watch captain inside. At the top, the girl opens it and reads it, then flashes a thumbs-up sign at Maugra, and disappears back inside.
 

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