Magnimar Special Investigations Unit One (Inactive)

Game Master Nazard

Way more fun than getting yelled at at a funeral. :) I imagine, even with the muffin stop, they'll get back to HQ later than the law-abiding types. You coming back at dusk with Auriel, Awgin, or staying the night?

Was that an invitation Auriel? You did say that I might get lucky. Awgin will return with Auriel.

Auriel stumbles up against Awgin as they climb the stairs to the front door of the MSI building. "See? Isn't Lowcleft great? That's why we had to stop the house from falling on it. That's what I was trying to tell you that night when you were hiding. Why didn't you answer me?" She seems to be speaking a little over-enthusiastically, and a suspicious scent wafts into the foyer along with her.

Heward celebrates his promotion with Laya and Calatin, and Miria's muffins. He's happy about the promotion. All is good in the world. He takes leave of the party with, "We'll have a meeting tomorrow morning in the mess. About half to noon."

Similarly with Mrs. Brigglespan. He thanks her for helping with the insignia. He asks her to notify the others about the meeting if she sees them. "I'll be visiting my parents to tell them the news. Could you leave the team's files in my room so I can go over them before the meeting? Thanks."

Then he's off his parents. It starts well enough. His mother is glad to see him. Big dinner of plain fare. His father asks many questions about the new job and the team. Halfway through the meal, and all the way through the first bottle, his father starts expanding the promotion into a symbol of Cheliaxian superiority. Heward gets embarrassed, moody, and silent. He begs off desert citing Laya's muffins and the huge meal.

Latenight finds him on the docks watching the moon rise. A pair of fins break the water, and he muses on the rod and reel back in his room. When was the last time I used them? Awgin's got his garden. Calatin's got his books. I really should make time to fish. Hmmm. I wonder what Auriel and Laya do? Or Garidan for that matter...

Thinking about the team pulls his thoughts back toward his new job. What am I gonna do? I don't want to be a jerk. I'd like the team to like me ...

How to handle the files? I just snoop trough the character backgrounds? Nazard writes summaries? Players provide a "file" if they don't want Heward knowing their deepest and darkest?

"Damned snake," she agrees, scowling, then breaks into giggles. "It did look pretty silly when it slithered into Stafford's kitchen all menacing and got a face full of bearnaise sauce. You know, there's been a few men who've fed me the line that they have a magic snake I should see, but that guy was the first one who ever actually had one."

I actually laughed at that. I've probably also used that line before.
Awgin braces against the wall as he laughs.

"Ssssh!" she giggles at him, her finger to her lips. "Don't you know all the good little boys and girls are in bed at this time of night?" Coming closer to whisper, she stumbles up against his chest.

Everybody - District C - MSI HQ - Rova 11 - 10h00

Awgin and Auriel, experiencing the wonders of the post-drinking binge hangovers, are rudely awakened the next morning by pounding and banging on their doors (there may be pots and pans as well). Opening the doors, they both find Mrs. Brigglespan (alone and without pots) politely waiting to inform them that the new Sergeant has required them both to attend a morning briefing. Her lips twitch slightly at the sight of both of them.

Downstairs, everybody gathers in the conference room for Heward's briefing. And yes, for heaven's sake, muffins are provided! Wouldn't want the world to end or anything! Unless, of course, Sergeant Wallas bans them from his meetings...in which case, he's the bad guy...

And yes, for heaven's sake, muffins are provided! Wouldn't want the world to end or anything! Unless, of course, Sergeant Wallas bans them from his meetings...in which case, he's the bad guy...

Ah, but are they from the Fluffy Muffin or that talentless hack Percival hired as our "chef"? That makes a big difference. ;)

Laya arrives early and stands on a chair along one side of the conference table either happily munching away at her muffin (if it's from the Fluffy Muffin) or picking at with a scowl on her face (if it's from their chef). She nods at everyone as they enter. "I've always wondered why they call these kinds of meetings briefings," she says. "I suppose it originally had something to do with the idea that they should be brief in duration. But is that still the case? Hmmm... It could be an interesting topic for a paper on language drift. I must remember that." She pops another piece of muffin in her mouth and either smiles happily or grimaces (as the case may be).

Just where did this idea come from anyway that your chef was a talented hack? He's actually quite decent, though his specialty is more for elaborate Galtan pastries as opposed to common muffins. However, if t's muffins people prefer rather than light, buttery croissants, then it's muffins he makes (and you can probably taste the scorn and disdain for such a common and low-brow dessert).

Heward wakes up early to read the personnel files in his room. He frowns at Awgin's and Auriel's. Then it occurs to him that his wouldn't read so differently. His childhood had its rough patches too. Thank Erastil for Halfman.

Heward gathers up the folders and carries them downstairs, passing by the mess to see if everyone is up yet. He returns the files to Mrs. Brigglespan with his thanks. He doesn't want to go into the meeting before everyone is there. He passes the time in pleasantries with the secretary. He brushes some lint from his tabard -- three times.

He'll wait a bit because he doesn't want to have to start by chastising people for being late. He won't wait forever.

And he's an equal opportunity pastry consumer, but if chef can run up some with the cherry filling.

Just where did this idea come from anyway that your chef was a talented hack? He's actually quite decent, though his specialty is more for elaborate Galtan pastries as opposed to common muffins. However, if t's muffins people prefer rather than light, buttery croissants, then it's muffins he makes (and you can probably taste the scorn and disdain for such a common and low-brow dessert).

That's just a Laya thing. She comes from a "low-brow" family and grew up eating the "low-brow" food of her parents' inn, cooked by her parents, who are very good cooks, but in a totally different style to the Galtan chef. To Laya, light, buttery croissants are the food of pretentious upper-class twits. As such, she doesn't like the chef's food. If really pressed, she would probably admit that he's good at the kind of food he makes; it's just not the kind of food she likes. :)

He shuffles past Law-Man and Mrs. Brigglespan into the meeting room. He finds a chair to sit on and a wall to lean against.

When the clamor starts up outside the door, Auriel moans in protest. Then she turns over and sees Awgin next to her. "Eugh," she groans, scrambling over him and dragging the sheet with her to cover herself with as she darts for the door. A moment after she disappears around it past a startled Mrs. Brigglespan, she pokes her head back in. "'S'not you, okay?" she tells Awgin. "I'm just really...." She takes off again toward her own room. The faint sound of retching might be heard from down the hall.

A few minutes later, after Mrs. Brigglespan has left, she reappears while he is splashing his face, a bit pale but smiling weakly. "Sorry," she tells him, depositing the sheet back on his bed as she picks her clothes up off the floor. "Empty stomach and then ... whatever all it was we had last night. It's not ... morning remorse." She watches him leave the room a bit nervously, not sure if she's just gotten the brush-off or not. It takes her longer to get ready than it does Awgin; she is easily fifteen to twenty minutes behind him in arriving downstairs.

Awgin gets up just long enough to grab several muffins and some water. He gives a nod to everyone as they come in.

Calatin prefers pastries to muffins, but is an equal opportunity consumer!

He turns up on time for the meeting, in a rumpled gown with a couple of books and a sheaf of notes under his arm. He calls Tylluan in to join the meeting.

Pay attention, bird. I expect you to know what's going on...

Auriel stumbles in last to the meeting. She shoots Awgin a quick, uncertain glance across the table before taking a seat as far from the food as she can find. If anyone offers her a muffin, she emphatically refuses, turning her head away with a wince, being of smaller frame than Awgin and not privileged to share his orcish constitution. "Who's this new sergeant?" she grumbles, folding her arms on the table and laying her pounding head down on them. "Some other loser Captain Boring-Shoes is putting between us and him to cushion himself from the fall-out from our next fiasco?"

Heward walks in just behind Auriel. He returns Laya's nod. As he moves to the front of the room he notes Calatin's papers and Auriel whispering to Awgin. He frowns at Garidan's absence.

"Good morning. I will try to keep this short. Captain Percival has promoted me to Sargent and put me in charge of this unit. He seems to feel it will help focus the team.

"One change I'd like to make is defensive and physical training three times a week when we are not working a case. I'll coordinate the program with Awgin. Attendance will be mandatory." He smiles. "I know some of you won't like that, but as an incentive, it will be the one time you can hit me and not go to the stockade."

"Any questions?"

GM sits back and makes some popcorn. This should be interesting...

Auriel stands up, slips her badge over her head, and lays it on the table. "Okay if I have my room cleared out by dusk? I'm not a damn soldier. Neither is she," she nods at Laya, "or him," gesturing to Calatin. "I'm guessing Captain Boring-Shoes knew that when he put the three of us on the team. You've got a damn wizard on the team, and you want to waste his time with sparring?!? Makes as much sense as putting him in charge and him forcing you to learn to cast a spell."

Btw, not that it's actually important, but she's on the far side of the table from Awgin and was muttering for anyone who cared to hear.

Given the response to his first training suggestion, Heward was more or less expecting this response. He keeps his voice level, "A damn wizard will die just as easily from a knife in the ribs as the next man. Any of us could. Markiv's dead. Awgin, Garidan, and me were all laid out in our last two fights. This is one risk I know how to reduce. It will cost him three hours a week when we are not working an active case and it could save his life."

Besides how else do we explain his rising BAB? Expecting a respinse on this before addressing Auriel's pending resignation.

"Whatever. Not my problem anymore." She nods to her badge on the table before offering Laya a shy smile. "Bye." Awgin gets a tentative nod. "You know where to look for me, if you want to."

Anyone can go ahead and say anything they want to before Auriel leaves the room. I'm going to be away from the keyboard for a few hours. I doubt there's anything that can be said that will deprive Auriel of the pleasure of walking out on Heward, anyway. :)

"Minick, wait. Give me ten minutes. We got off on the wrong foot. I want to start all this over. A level battlefield." Somewhere in the back of his mind Heward hopes he doesn't sound desparate.

As Auriel heads through the door, the diminutive figure of Mrs. brigglespan blocks her way. "Off in such a hurry, child?" she asks sweetly, with a subtle yet pronounced twisting to the word child.

"Stop. All of you. Including you, Mrs. Brigglespan. If she wants to go there's nothing to be done about it. She'll leave now or later if you stop her. She's right, though. The Captain probably did know that she can't fight." Awgin then starts to talk directly to Auriel or at least the back of her head. "Though that doesn't mean a fight won't find you. You can't run from everything. Sometimes you got to crunch stuff in the face. He's only talking about learning how to use a dagger or club, not become a master swordswoman. If that's too much, you could try talking him down some."

Laya pops the last bit of her muffin into her mouth and swallows it with a bit of a grimace. It's not clear whether the grimace is for the muffin or for the events unfolding around her.

After Awgin finishes, she says, "I think we all need to take a few minutes to discuss things calmly and figure out how this group is supposed to run. Captain Boring-Shoes hired several non-watch people and then expected them to follow the Watch's strict military structure without ever informing or instructing those people in how they were expected to behave. The man's got his heart in the right place, but unfortunately, he's quite the incompetent. Heward's promotion, however, actually gives us a bit of an advantage in that only Heward has to deal directly with him, and of all people here, Heward's probably the most qualified to deal directly and efficiently with the captain. Of course, we still have to come to some sort of agreement amongst ourselves regarding how we operate when the captain's not around. We'll only manage that, though, if we're willing to sit down and talk to each other."

Wow, things must be bad. Laya's talking in a straightforward manner.

A half-smile flits across Heward's mouth. He hadn't expected such strong support from Awgin. He's grateful to Laya too. He waits for Auriel's response.

It briefly looks like Auriel will shove right past Mrs. Brigglespan, but at the last moment, she turns sharply on her heel, crossing her arms over her chest impatiently. "I can run from a lot," she tells Awgin. "He sent the snake to kill me first, when I was alone and you were all still sitting around waiting upstairs. If I'd stood and fought, I'd be dead too. I'm alive because I was smart enough to run from a fight I knew I couldn't win." She turns toward Heward. "Captain Percival said he wouldn't press charges if I helped out the Watch. He didn't say I had to become one of his jackbooted lackeys, taking orders and carrying weapons. I'd rather be in prison." To her horror, tears begin to sting her eyes, and she rubs at them with the back of her hand angrily. "You told me to help people," she tells Mrs. Brigglespan accusingly. "I can do that better in Lowcleft. Up here, they just want to make me learn how to hurt people. At least in Lowcleft, people like me; they think what I can do and what I have to contribute are worthwhile. Up here, I'm a miserable failure because I don't know how to tear someone's arm off and beat him to death with it. Every time he looks at me, all he's seeing is how he can change me to be someone else, someone more like him, so I won't be such a horrible disappointment any more. It's like living with my mother all over again."

"Oh, dear, dear child," Mrs. Brigglespan says, this time with no twisting on the word, "what ever gave you the idea that you're a horrible disappointment? And who is this 'he'? My dear, nobody expects you to beat somebody with their own arm, and nobody expects you to change who you are. Such funny ideas you seem to have of the Watch, like it's some cold, heartless group of people solely out to ruin people's fun! There are bad people out there, Auriel, and I don't mean your regular pick-pockets and cut purses, I mean really bad people, like the man you just captured. Nobody wants to make you into a soldier, but some threats can't be thwarted with some flashy moves or soft words, and not liking violence doesn't protect you from it."

She puts an arm around Auriel. "Facing death can be scary. You have friends here who would like to help you get through what you experienced, but they can't because you won't let them. Besides, child, it's not like everybody else was sitting back at their ease while you were given the dangerous jobs. From what I read in those reports, you were the one who decided to go off on her own to guard the back door of the jeweler's, and you who decided to position yourself alone amongst the party guests. Hard as it may be for you realize, you do have a team, and things tend to go better when you start acting like one." She gives Auriel one last squeeze, then straightens up.

Then she rounds on Heward. "And you! Could you back down any faster? Maybe you have the balls for this job, maybe not, but if you cut them off yourself at the first opportunity, you certainly won't! Don't let these people walk all over you like that!"

"As for the rest of you, you will do as Sergeant Wallas instructs, or you'll answer to me for it! And as for leaving people alone..." her glare coming to rest on Awgin, "Take your own advice. Taking a young woman who is clearly distraught and hurting into your bed for some drunken conquest? Consider yourself lucky I don't turn you over my knee! For shame, sir!"

She instantly composes herself, her pleasant smile returning quickly. "Now, I came to see who wanted tea. Anybody?"

Heward feels ...

"Oh, dear, dear child..." agreement, approval

She puts an arm around Auriel. "Facing death can be scary. You have friends here who would like to help you ... more agreement and approval. a warm pleasant glow suffuses his being

Then she rounds on Heward. "And you! ..."fear, loathing, resentment, an intense desire to sink through the floor

"As for the rest of you, you will do as Sergeant Wallas instructs, or you'll answer to me for it! And as for leaving people alone..." her glare coming to rest on Awgin, "Take your own advice. Taking a young woman who is clearly distraught and hurting into your bed for some drunken conquest? Consider yourself lucky I don't...relief that someone else has become the target and -- hold the phone what was that?

She instantly composes herself, her pleasant smile returning quickly. "Now, I came to see who wanted tea. Anybody?"

"No thank you, Mrs Brigglespan," Heward replies quickly, wishing she were gone. "I mean not for me,"he adds even more quickly and slightly apologetically.

"You're wrong, Mrs. Brigglespan," she says wearily. "My friends are in Lowcleft. They smile when they see me instead of glaring. They ask how I am and listen to the answer instead of lecturing me about what I should feel. They think what I do is great instead of expecting me to sit down and shut up until I'm told to try to kill someone. They never tell me I'm less useful than a cat. Most of all, friends don't give friends orders. They don't tell me I'll be 'used as my expertise applies.' They don't tell me anything is mandatory, and they don't threaten me with the stockade if I don't do what they say. A cup of tea's not going to change any of that."

Laya frowns, hops off her chair, and heads towards the door. "Auriel is absolutely right. Tea is not going to do any of us any good right now. Mrs Brigglespan, I know you mean well, but you are not a member of this team, and even if you were, lectures are the last thing needed right now. You're only helping to splinter us even more. If we need you for anything, we will call on you. Until then, please mind your own business." She takes hold of the door and makes to close it, giving Mrs Brigglespan only a moment to be on the opposite side of it.

After the door is closed (and after any further confrontation with Mrs Brigglespan is dealt with), she turns to Auriel and smiles. "There are few things more annoying than elderly women who feel the need to baby people younger than them." She turns to face the others. "Now then, the question is, can we as a group find a common accord and work together. Let's put aside questions of rank and orders for the moment--after all, rank will mean little when it comes time to stand before Pharasma for judgement. Let's even put aside the job for a moment and just talk. Auriel is right. We don't know each other. We're not friends. There hasn't exactly been a lot of time to get to know each other, but that's no excuse. The only way we can work together is if we can trust one another, and we'll never find that trust if we're all mysteries to each other. Agreed?"

Maybe Awgin was the hurt and vulnerable one.
"Auriel was saying the same thing just last night. We should get to know each other better. Combat training might help with that, so might morning briefings. We could also do regular patrols in two's or three's. At least part of that time will be spent talking to each other."

Mrs. Brigglespan, seeing her mission accomplished (whether anybody in the room likes it or even realizes it), only smiles pleasantly as Laya shuts the door in her face.

Calatin leafed through his papers as if the bickering bored him.

When the door closed behind Mrs Brigglespan, he raised his head and brushed some of his thinning hair back from his face.

"Have we a case to discuss?" he asked. "Because if not..." he waved a handful of papers.

"Oh yes. Give you joy of your promotion, Heward. Best to go through what each member of this team has to offer, what they bring to the party, and use that to good effect. We are supposed to be different to conventional Watch members, that's the whole point of this unit. When we need the combat-drilled types, we can call for an assist. Don't have to do it all by ourselves."

When Mrs. Brigglespan has left the room, Auriel shifts over behind Awgin's chair and offers him an apologetic shrug.

Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10 No doubt she said something that would hurt Heward's feelings. It's better he didn't hear.

"All right. We'll talk about ourselves. I'll go first. Heward Wallas. Watchman three years. Prior to that I spent an involuntary six month tour at the Hook Mountain Home for Wayward Boys. You have a lot of time to think when you're on watch out in the cold. And I thought a lot about a friend of mine who tried to teach me Erastil's philosophy on family, community, and right and wrong. That's why I joined the Watch."

He looks at Auriel. "For me the Watch is about protecting Magnimar and its citizens. We make it possible for this many people to live together. We're not jack-booted lackeys and I won't ask you to kill anyone."

He returns his attention to the rest of the party. "I'm not sure what I bring to the team. I don't have any special skills like most of you. I can read people sometimes. I can handle trouble of it comes my way. I guess the Captain thought I would dot all the i's in my paperwork."

"Who's next?"

A blush chases across her face at Awgin's whisper, but she leans on the back of his chair and fixes Heward with a defiant gaze. "I'm Auriel, and I'm here because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm good at lying to people and at making them look one way when something's going on the other way. I'm also good at getting lost in a crowd and at finding things out, but both of those abilities go straight out the window if it ever becomes public knowledge I'm working with the Watch. I've never met a Watchman who didn't think he knew better than any ordinary person what that person ought to do, feel, say, or be, present company not excepted. And I don't take orders from anyone, ever."

"Well I've never met an ordinary person who didn't think he knew better than me what a Watchman ought to be doing. That should make us about even."

"Except you're the ones with the power to push people around. Not even. Not unless I'm allowed to tell you what's 'mandatory.' Everyone's entitled to their opinions; it's just when someone's handed the authority to force their opinion on other people that it's a problem."

"We can come back to this. Let's hear what the others have to say first."

"You're the one who couldn't let me speak my piece without brushing it off at the end," she mutters, turning her gaze to Laya and Calatin.

"Um. I'm a wizard. Magic is like fire, or a knife. Fire can burn your house down or cook your dinner. You can carve up that dinner with a knife, or carve up someone with it. Same fire, same knife. Most magic is neither inherently good nor inherently evil of itself, too, it is what the user intends that decides. Those who would cause trouble or disturb the lives of others for their own gain can, and do, use magic as much as any other tool in their quest to get their own way. So having a mage to hand to interpret what is going on, maybe even counteract it, is useful. I also bring a retentive memory for everything that I read or see, and I know sufficient about how people work, on a physical level, to investigate why they are dead..."

Calatin runs down, and stuffs a pastry into his mouth, spilling a few crumbs down his front and onto his notes.

Garidan tells everybody something of his past, of trying to bridge the gap between Shoanti and Chelish descendants, and of some of his own experiences. Basically, whatever is in his background on his profile. Really hope ProfPotts returns soon.

That just leaves Laya.

That just leaves Laya.

And Awgin!

As faces turn to her, Laya takes a deep breath and smiles sheepishly. "Well, let's see..." she begins. "I always have a hard time talking about these sorts of things, but I guess I did force the issue. You should really ask Chal. He could tell you all sorts of things. Of course, he's also liable to run on and on, and occasionally get a bit off-topic, but you certainly will learn a lot. Talking of learning, that's a great hobby of mine. I like to read books, and I like to ponder the future, foretell it when I can. I use to own a harrow deck, but I lost it somewhere. I really must remember to buy a new one. I'd better make a note of that."

She goes over to her pack and rummages in it. "I'm forever making notes to myself. If I don't, I'll forget." She pulls out some papers and a piece of chalk and starts to write, but then stops. "Oh, what do you know? I already have a note about that. Well then, I must remember to check my notes more often. I should make a note about that." She jots down a quick note, then stuffs the paper and chalk away.

"Now then, where were we? Oh yes, talking about me. Well, let's see. I like to read. Did I mention that? Yes, I suppose I did. Oh, I like cemeteries. Hmmm... I really can't think of anything else. You should ask Chal."

There's a long, long pause before Awgin says anything. His face goes through a range of emotions before settling on resolute.
"There's nothing about me that you need to know that you don't know already."

"Really?" Laya scratches her chin. "I'm not sure I know much of anything about you. Well, you're generally very quiet, I suppose. But I can't think of anything else. What do you think we already know about you? And how exactly do you determine what we need to know? I'm not criticizing. Just genuinely curious."

I got an e-mail from Alexander (ProfPotts), who was quite sick for awhile, but is recovering nicely and should be back soon. If everybody is ready, I can start the next mystery! It starts on the 14th of Rova, so there are still three more days (it's currently the 11th). I gather that Calatin, Laya, and Auriel are still refusing to participate in Heward's team-building exercises?