"Agents of Edgewatch" (Campaign) w/ AP Edgelord (Inactive)

Game Master rainzax

Book One: Devil at the Dreaming Palace

NPC: Lieutenant Grospek Lavarsus (LN Human City Guard Commander)

The lieutenant rises from behind his desk, glaring out from beneath brooding brows as he silently studies his new agents. After a long moment, he shakes his head, muttering something under his breath...

...before pulling his well-chewed cigar from his mouth and gesturing disdainfully "This year's Radiant Festival is the most ambitious peacetime undertaking the city's seen. The Edgewatch is responsible for the safety of thousands. I told the council I would need the best of the best. And stead they've sent me you: a bunch of rookies so green you've practically got gills! Did you pin those badges on yourself, or did Sergeant Ollo have to do it for you?" He sighs and sits. "Abadar only knows what sin I committed to deserve you. But. We work with what we're given" his already-stern gaze turns even moreso "You do what you're told, learn from the veterans, and maybe you'll come out of this proper guards. But if I catch you shirking work or tarnishing the reputation of the precinct, I'll bounce you outta here so hard you'll land in Absalom Harbor! Clear?" He doesn't wait for an answer, instead snatching up a piece of paper from his desk and holding it out "Here's your first assignment: A bunch of dung-headed wannabe adventurers are smashing up the Tipsy Tengu. Clean it up - book'em or fine'em, just don't kill anyone" He shuffles through some more papers on his desk before looking back up pointedly "Well? You want me to hold your hand on the way there? Get going! Dismissed!!"

The Noise Complaint in the Precipice Quarter

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The interior of the Tipsy Tengu is a raucous mess of tipped-over chairs and spilled drinks. A motley crew of drunken adventurers is the clear cause of the chaos, including a dwarven bruiser wearing a horned helmet (Bolar of Stonemoor), a sloppy elf in robes (Miriel Grayleaf), an armored human worshipper of Cayden Caileen (Antaro Boldblade), and a leather-clad halfling (Skebs).

Yonder the bar, a distressed halfling innkeeper (Belberry Breckenridge) seems to be methodically wiping surfaces, righting chairs, and cleaning discarded glasses, apparently several steps behind her belligerent clientele!

Raian stands at attention reasonably comfortably as Lieutenant Lavarsus begins his announcements. Raian is a fairly average looking Human man in his early 20s. Though people who know what they are looking for can tell that there is a little bit of elemental blood in his ancestry.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Raian only barely manages to keep a straight face as Lieutenant Lavarsus describes him as "practically got gills". He mostly succeeds and hopes that the Lieutenant didn't notice. "Yeah, I have had to swim back from being booted into the harbor before. It's how I ended up in this job assignment actually. But, it is good to be in a job where we are expected to not kill anyone."

As the group leaves the office headed towards the Tipsy Tengu.

"Hello everyone. I guess it is good that we have our first assignment. Though I am not thrilled about knocking some heads together in a bar. I guess someone has to do it. Well, talking some sense into them would be better than knocking some sense into them."

Chomski looks around the room at his new compatriots as the Lieutenant verbally berates them. Chomski has done his homework on Lavarsus and knows that his bark is as bad as his bite, but he is also known for his bluster so it's best not to take it too personally. Still, Chomski does take down the notes on the Tipsy Tengu.

"Thanks for the pep talk, Lieutenant. We look forward to showing you what we're made of." He then gives a slight bow and departs.

Chomski takes some time to shake each person's hand.

"Glad to know each of you and to be on this assignment with you. And yes, Raian, it would be good to talk some sense into these braggarts. And fine them, of course. My name is Chomski, in case we haven't already met in training. Chomski Bramblebuckle. I look forward to doing some good with the Edgewatch."

Chomski straightens his outfit before entering the Tengu. He also casts Prestidigitation on himself in order to ensure he's clean as well.

Muttering to himself as he does this. "Manners, maketh, man." And steps forward. "Shall we then?"

Quickly assessing the room and the four disrupters in front of him, he gives a nod to Berlberry.

In a raised but respectful voice. "We are with the Edgewatch. We have received a noise complaint and it is clear that you four are the disrupters in this room. We simply ask that you stand down and call it an evening as you have clearly had enough revelries." Walking up to the sloppy robed elf. "Now, I'm not sure why you need to be drinking so heavily, but if we can help in any way, I am sure we will do our very best."

Do you want secret checks or are we rolling?

"My name is Chomski, in case we haven't already met in training. Chomski Bramblebuckle."

Raian shakes hands solidly and with a smile.

"I have heard the name before, but I never really followed politics all that much. Good to meet you in person. And yes, let's go do some good."

Laz stands against the Lieutenant's b!!####ing as stoically as he can. It's not really his wet dream to start like that, but at least in this assignment he might actually learn about being a good cop.

"Lazverinus" he says when, later, when the rest begin their introductions. "Laz is ok."

At the Tengu's, he watches over all the chaos and mayhem while Chomski talks, only taking a second at the end of the speech to add "don't forget about the fine" with his hand covering his mouth. He stands by the door, his huge bulk covering the possibility that they try to flee - though that seems quite unlikely.

"Lazverinus" he says when, later, when the rest begin their introductions. "Laz is ok."

"Yeah, that is quite the name you've got there. Good to meet you Laz. I'm Raian."

At the Tipsy Tengu.

Raian steps into the Tipsy Tengu. The commotion immediately obvious. "Wonderful." :sigh: "
OK, let's get this under control."

He notices Lazverinus standing at the door, his large frame nicely preventing people from leaving easily. So Raian instead takes up a more central position in the room, ready to protect the other officers if the need arises. And trying his best to portray a friendly, but formidable presence.

He scans the room and determines that the Dwarf seems to be the most physically violent threat and starts edging towards him.

@ Tipsy Tengu

Miriel Grayleaf seems inconsolable, as if drowning her despair in drink, the antipode of the otherwise raucous group, she says to Chomski "Nobody can help me - all is for naught..." and stifling a tear, snorts ugly, and pounds the middle third of her drink, sullen, sinking back into her chair.

When Laz stands in the doorway, he catches the eye of Bolar of Stonemoor, who yells at him with overconfidence "Oh Big Man presumes to block our exit! Would that we'd be leaving - which we are not - No trouble to bowl you over!" he grins and also pounds an entire drink with his boast!

As Raian approaches his dwarven ally, Antaro Boldblade takes notice and suddenly seems to be... pouring him a drink from a pitcher in anticipation of his arrival!?

A sixth figure - not the bartender, not the four drunken adventurers - also looms in this bar, well-dressed, and looking directly at the five badges (#237, #368, #491, #908, #968) knowingly and with keen interest, and adjusting his posture with grace, assumes the "approachable" stance of a well-studied extrovert!

NPC: Hendrid Pratchet (CG Half-elf Socialite Lady Killer)

@the table with Miriel

"My good woman, while you are likely correct and I cannot offer any help, I do think it would be a good idea to stop drinking. You and your friends have caused a disturbance, and one large enough to have attracted our attention as guards of this Quarter. I will say this though, if you are willing to leave and help me get your friends to leave, I can promise to be an ear and a shoulder for you to use. Although I am quite short so you will need to be sitting to use this shoulder."

And this part he says to the whole group.

"You have all already incurred a fine from the Edgewatch for this disturbance, do not make it any larger by causing any more damage than you already have."

And with Kola sitting on his shoulder acting cute to further soften the message (Familiar Aid on Making an Impression)
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 8 + 1 = 15

At the sight of the Kola (Koala?) sitting on Chompski's shoulder, Miriel brightens momentarily to say "Oh! She is like my little Runkles!" she reaches out to pet the familiar "Oh Runkles!" and here she suddenly bursts into tears, full and flowing, upon Chompski's other shoulder (having "listened" to only half his speech) - raised larynx and thinned vocal folds blurting right into his ear!

Success w/ Familiar Synergy!

As Raian approaches his dwarven ally, Antaro Boldblade takes notice and suddenly seems to be... pouring him a drink from a pitcher in anticipation of his arrival!?

Raian notices that he has the attention of the pitcher wielding man. "Well, I guess I had better get talking." "Care to explain why you guys are busting up the place?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

"This is the place to get drunk after all, but you have to do it without breaking things and making a mess. It isn't good for business."

Ah, sorry, forgot to make the roll. Still grasping the ins and outs of this, please bear with me.

Laz doesn't pay any attention to the threat, just looking tired as if a fly would be buzzing around him.

Athletics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

At the sight of the Kola (Koala?) sitting on Chompski's shoulder

Lizard. Picture Pascal from Tangled.

Ms Tibeth stands in a ready, at-ease pose during the briefing, staying quiet and taking in the office and her fellow officers.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

She nods silently in the office, letting others speak, and lead out the door.

"Lazverinus" he says when, later, when the rest begin their introductions. "Laz is ok."

"Tanaterra Tibeth. Ms Tibeth to start - perhaps Tanaterra, as we grow more familiar."

Upon arrival to the Tengu, she looks around at the adventurers and the mess. She whispers to the bartender, in Halfling, "I'll touch base with you in just a few moments."

She stalks up to the armored human, taps on his greave to get his attention, then puts her hands sternly on her hips. "You, of all people, should know there's a difference between revelry and excess." Her face is full of stern disappointment, with an expectation that some young person had best explain himself, fully and soon.

Religion: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23 - add +1 if Godless Greycloak applies

NOTE: The That's Odd feat triggers upon entering a new location; basically, if there's one non-obvious thing that's out of the ordinary, I learn that it's suspicious, but not why or any other information without closer investigation.

Antaro explains to Raian "Tis the sabbath today - but of course! Have you not cause for celebration?"

Bolar makes an attempt to "punk" Laz by advancing on him suddenly, but as the broad man doesn't flinch in the slightest, he tucks tail instead, offering the following excuse to his comrades "I could take 'im if I wanted, but uh, i'd rather get us another round" and walks right up to the tap and begins refilling a pitcher!

Tanaterra shames the group, and immediately Bolar stops pouring the ale and retreats to his group as Antaro shifts his position "Looks like our revelry has turned this sacred place a mess - Skebs! - return these fine adventurers their coinpurse!"

Skebs hesitates, then hands back 1d5 ⇒ 5 Raian's purse, advising him "Bes' kep a bitter eye unit nex time!"

Skill Challenge a Critical Success in Minutes!

The finely dressed half-elf interposes himself with relative grace "Ah, was that ever neatly executed work!" whirling his ornate cane his bold blue eyes lock with 1d5 ⇒ 2 Greyjay "The city's finest, come to deliver us from belligerents!" he lowers his voice conspiratorially "Honestly I'd never allow their sort into my hotel, but poor Belberry (the bartender), thought they'd add flavor: They certainly have!"

His voice grows once more "This is my associate, Ralso" he introduces the seventh and final person in the building (four adventurers, bartender, himself, his associate = 7) by nodding to the hard-looking half-orc "We thought we'd come down and enjoy a quiet night of dinner and drinks before the opening day festivities tomorrow. So much for rest and relaxation, eh?" he elbows 1d5 ⇒ 3 Tanaterra with perhaps more force than might be considered polite before shifting quickly to "So: Whereabouts did you five earn your badges?"

NPC: Ralso (NG Half-orc Bodyguard Butler)

Meeting Hendrid Pratchet and his associate Ralso

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Skebs hesitates, then hands back Raian's purse, advising him "Bes' kep a bitter eye unit nex time!"

Raian snatches back his coins while raising an eyebrow. "Bes' kep your sticky hands to yourself." He replies - trying to mimic the drunken slurring for at least the start of the sentence. He quickly counts the money returned as well as checking for the existence of everything else he came in here with.

Laz launches a steady and profound gaze at the guy who returned the purse.

"We're no adventurers" he says.

He waits for his colleagues to get the thugs out - for they seem no adventurers as well - and steps aside to let them pass.

"Come with us. We have cookies."

"Well met to you both. And our apologies for the spoiled evening but the ruckus seems to have been taken care of. My name is Chomski, Chomski Bramblebuckle. I am from the Coins district of Absalom, but have been staying closer to this quarter while doing the extensive training with the Edgewatch." He says while removing his glasses to clean them.

"What is it you and your compatriot do?"

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 8 + 1 = 19

"I am a proprietor" Hendrid snorts with a puffy air - his associate (Ralso) smiles knowingly as Chomski is summarily dismissed by her master's upturn of nose - "Hendrid Pratchet - perhaps you have heard of me?" he turns to the others in Chomski's company, as if wondering what they bring to the table!

Laz studies the two strangers as the talky one introduces themselves. He doesn't recall hearing that name before, and certainly he has never seen that face. He wonders what do they want from them.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

The strangers still appear so... strange to him.

Tanaterra makes a great show and fuss of pulling out a small clay pipe and cleaning it, while she rifles through her mental encyclopedia of People Who Think You Should Have Heard Of Them By Now, Really Darling.

Society: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26

Ralso eyes Tanaterra suspiciously as Tanaterra eyes Hendrid suspiciously...

@Tanaterra

Although you haven't heard of him (Society), you do study his person with intent (Perception), and make two discoveries. Firstly, you notice his finely-crafted walking cane made from expensive wood and metal, and notice the engraving "HLP" etched onto it's pommel. Secondly, you notice a satchel mostly hidden within a pocket of his expensive and quite fashionable jacket, and recognize it to be as most likely containing spell components!

Remaining PCs may now roll Crafting and Arcana to Influence Hendrid and Ralso!

"No, I don't think I have heard of you."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"But we are just city guards. Perhaps you could introduce yourselves better some time when we are not on the clock."

"Well, look at the time!" Hendrid checks his wrist and looks to Ralso, who nods "We must be off - but: a parting gift" and just then, the bartender, Belberry Breckenridge, brings over a round drinks and declares "Mr. Pratchet has bought you a round" and depositing them onto the table, she immediately rights several chairs, then heads over to the proprietor and his associate with a handful of coins "While your charity is appreciated, I must insist upon being the benefactor here: This evening's rounds are on the house!"

And with that, assuming the Edgewatch stay to celebrate (Do they?) - a trickle of new customers arrive one by one, filling out the evening, as Breckenridge finishes tidying up one section here or there just in time for each new wave.

Party Option:
1) Earn one day of Downtime in Celebration, or,
2) Return Immediately to the Precinct?
(Quorum of half party to decide)

I would vote for returning to the precinct.

I can't think of anything to do with a day of downtime already. I'll also throw in my vote for returning to the precinct.

Laz finishes his drink and wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

"I guess we should go back to HQ and see if there's anything else to do, shall we?"

Vote for going back, in case it's not clear :P

Tanaterra will decline the alcohol, and spend a few minutes interviewing Belberry to see what caused the commotion, just to have enough background to make a full report.

I'm also down for heading back to the precinct, can't think of much to do with downtime at this point, barring some strange revelation.

Tanaterra will chat with the group on the way back to the precinct, revealing what she's learned about both Hendrid and the noise disturbance.

Raian also declines the offered drinks. "I'm on duty. And I don't hold alcohol well."

On the way back.

"OK, Ms Tibeth. When you get a moment to collect your thoughts, what did you figure out? Because that entire thing seemed a bit off to me. Maybe I am just paranoid."

Chomski will cast Prestidigitation on the drink to see if it could remove the alcohol content and then try it. If it did not seem to work, he will politely put it back down and thank the owner.

"Thank you for the attention to detail, Ms Tibeth. You will truly be an asset on the team. Everyone, actually, did a wonderful job in our first outing. I'm not sure if it is possible for Lavarsus to be pleased, but we'll see how close he comes to it."

Back at the Precinct (Part One)

Shuffling some more papers on his well-worn podium, Lieutenant Grospek Lavarsus observes the 1.5 persons now sitting in the front-facing desks, and clears his throat "Says here you changed Badges to #368 - what happened?" then squinting, he strains his eyes with a somewhat puzzled look "#631, says here you already... died?... what in the blazes!" and muttering something under his breath...

...then stares at an empty seat "Well #197, you're late... figures..." and shuffling a few more papers, repeats a familiar mantra before proceeding "We work with what we're given. Ahem. Fine. Welcome to the Edgewatch, your first assignment is to head over to the Tipsy..." and here he is suddenly interrupted as the rest of the party walks in!

Fazed a beat, he recovers with a trained agility (somewhat surprising given his stout frame and midway heft!), and with a quick shuffle, makes his first response "You've been transferred kid" handing Raian Oweraven some papers "Doesn't always work out" before quickly interrogating the remaining crew:

"Don't tell me you couldn't find the place! Go on: Talk!"

And presuming the party explains what happens (and in incredible time!) what appears to be the beginning of a quickly-suppressed smile curls just slightly from one side of his lip before being sucked back into his customary scowl. He shuffles some more papers and explains "Let's not get too comfortable then - while you were out we got four new complaints!"

Bonus Hero Point for 1)Chomski, 2)Tanaterra, or 3)Laz @ 1d3 ⇒ 3 = Laz

As if expecting to "surprise" his recruits with this news, he glances around the room to take in any raised eyebrows, perhaps seeing some, perhaps not, before leaving his podium for the first time (!) and walking over to your desks and putting 4 pieces of paper in front of 5d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 5, 4, 6) = 22 Rocky, Chomski, Tanaterra, and Laz...

Feel free to introduce yourselves - I will post the assignments with the Skill Challenge alias shortly...

Raian grabs the papers and reads through them briefly. "A desk job back at Harbor Guard." He shakes his head. "No, I don't think I could survive that."

He grabs a pen off the desk, turns over the stack of papers and scribbles out a resignation notice. "I think it is just time for me to find something else more permanent. I'll go see if my spot at my old hunter's guild is still available. The place could still use a few less monsters."

He takes off his badge and places the papers on the desk with his badge on top of it. Then straightens up and salutes. "Sir."

He turns to the others. "It was nice meeting you - even if only briefly. Best wishes to you all." He then turns around and leaves the office.

Rocky watches as one of the officers leaves. He seems to have little sympathy for walking off the post. But he does turn to the others, nodding at Greyjay and TT.

Rocky is on the older side, being in his late fifties. Or at least when he was still alive. His leather armor is worn unevenly, evidence of parts being replaced over time. But the badge is new. Though the armor is solid, he is decidedly less so, being a little translucent with no color.

"Well, I should probably mention this, as it might change how some of you feel about me." He's solemn about it. "The rumors are true. I had an orcish grandfather. Helps to avoid banging my shins in the dark."

With the tension lessened, he continues. "I also died last week, and I'm still getting used to it. Don't know what happened, apparently they drugged me first. Hopefully I can find that out and bring 'em in. 'Figured keeping up with the job's the best way to do that. Wouldn't know what to do with myself after thirty years on the beat."

When the others tell a bit of themselves, Laz nods. He accepts that everyone has a weird side. He's suffered enough for this in the past, so he knows better than to judge the guy.

"Dead or not, you're a colleague" he says quietly.

His bulk and the big weapon he carries talk for him, but in any case he explains. "Me, I'm Laz. I'm not very fast but I'm strong."

Yeah. Clear and short, that's how he likes it.

The Mean Streets of Absalom in Precipice Quarter

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Four Skill Challenges (and which agent assigned the paperwork!):

1) The Pickler vs the Fryer (Rocky)
2) Muggings in Broad Daylight (Chomski)
3) Excavations at the Excavation (Tanaterra)
4) The Apprentice's Lock In (Laz)

With each successive challenge the party completes, they gain or lose time as towards addressing the others, possibly represented as an decrease or increase to the Base DC of the next.

Discuss amongst yourselves which "call" you'd like to heed first before opening the spoilers (or just roll a 1d4?), and we'll tackle them one at a time, which, if you are the first to open the spoiler, feel free to take the narrative lead on, jumping right into it with words and dice!

Hit me with any questions in the Discussion thread!

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"Uh, yes sir, sorry sir.. uh" Marcellus gulps out as the Lieutenant notes his lateness, breathing a small sigh of relief as the squad entering interrupts his embarrassment.

The relief is short lived, as one of the squad is immediately reassigned.

He continues to stand in the corner awkwardly as the lieutenant seemingly ignores him and hands out assignments to the other officers, smiling awkwardly at any who happen to look at him.

Marcellus is an odd sight, tall and thin and somewhat gawky but sheathed in a fantastical suit of armor, all gears and strange shapes and what appears to be a small smokestack coming out the back? Slung on his armored back is a maul that seems almost comically large for his lithe frame, yet the weight doesn't seem to bother him any.

As the group introduces themselves, he waves a little shyly,
"I'm, uh, Marcellus.. I'm pretty good at making stuff and swing this hammer pretty OK, I wanted to get out of the library and court room, oh did I mention I was a law clerk and lawyer? and into the field, learn the law from the ground level, so to speak. Right?" he finishes in a rush.

Tanaterra cocks her head a bit at Rocky as she rifles through her paperwork. "I remember hearing something about us having lost an officer. I'm sorry that happened to you, even if you have somewhat bounced back."

She glances at the sheaf of papers in her hand, with EARTHQUAKE RUBBLE SITE displayed prominently on top. "For the assignment I was handed, I'm going to assume that there's nobody alive buried in rubble, else we'd have been dispatched directly there. Does anyone else have something that seems like it needs to be triaged a bit higher?"

If we're doing a ranked-type vote, then from first to last I'd go 2, 4, 3, 1.

Rocky will look at the map on the wall of the precinct and look at each point. Despite there being plenty of map pins, he just taps each location.

Which one is closest? Is there an obvious path between them?

Dammit, looks like I'm late to the meeting. The oracle arrives just in time to get the briefing, before he looks at his new companions. A tired smile crossing his bearded face. "Greyjay. Technically a nickname, but it'll do. Aye, it'll do." He scratches his chin, peering at the map as well.

I'd probably go 2, 4, 1, 3.

"Nobody alive, maybe." Grayjay says in response to Tanaterra. "But maybe not. Could be some danger to the folks nearby if it's not stable."

Just by the name of the file, Laz doesn't have any preference. He doesn't even know what problems they can find in many of them. "What does "Apprentice's Lock In" even mean? Is that a kidnappings?"

If forced to decide, he'll just name one of them randomly to go first.

For example, 1d4 ⇒ 4, The Apprentice's Lock In. How convenient :p

"Either way, shouldn't we.. um.. get moving. I don't want him to start yelling again." the inventor stammers, with a nervous look towards the podium, voice low.

"I've seen what happens when a grease fire gets out of hand. I'd rate that higher than an apprentice losing his key."

I'm thinking 1,2,3,4.

Back at the Precinct (Part Two)

Looking up from his papers, Lieutenant Grospek Lavarsus does start yelling "You're all still here? Those complaints aren't gunna police themselves! If I don't see one perp in here before the end of your shifts, why I'll saddle the whole lot of you with permit enforcement for the rest of the week!" the "threat" perhaps banking on his false assessment that his agents are unaware of their own worth - that the department is so physically understaffed another walk-off might spread like a hairline fracture across the entire foundation!

Then, in an unexpected move, and perhaps to "make up" for tolerating his leadership style "I almost forgot: Follow me to gather your effects before you head out" and scrawled in hand-written ink on replacement slips are your badge numbers each posted on different lockers - and inside, some standard issue equipment.

"Your welcome!"

...

Two votes for #2 first - let's start there?

2 works for me

That's fine.

Greyjay rises with a grunt. "Well, wherever we go, let's get started."

Sounds fine to me.