Dice-ember day 24

Welcome to Dice-ember day 24. Today we look at filling in some back story for one of the last NPCs investigated but the past remaining cloudy.

So let’s kick it off and jump right into learning about Grant Weathermane, captain of the Market Watch.

Grant Weathermane


As Grant sat down and delved into his roasted meat sandwich he dreaded when his break would end. He had already pushed out the last few minutes of his lunch before going out and was dreading going back to patrolling the south district and nearby shops in the market districts.

“Grant, we have a young halfling out here who claims we have a situation in the southern district. She’s been waiting a while for you, you’re up” his captain said sternly from the door.

“No worries captain Harrix, I’ll get onto it once I finish up here” Grant replied as he leisurely took a bite out of his roll. His captain sighed and could be hear calling out for Dane down the hall. “Good“, thought Grant, “Dane will be able to deal with it and I’ll get to finish my lunch

Grant was so engrossed in avoiding work that he didn’t hear the first call for the rest of the guard to report to and deal with the fighting in the north of the markets. Once he had avoided work for as long as he could be left the mess room and head out to a bustling hallway.

“Whats going on?” He called but several people ignored him and pushed past.

“Get out the way you waste of space. Real Market Watch coming through” one guard said as he pushed through and past Grant, gritting his teeth fought back a response. It wasn’t the first time someone had said something about his attitude or dedication to the Guard and it in wouldn’t be the last so he let it slide. Walking to the entrance room to the building he approached the front desk, a woman named Karen manned it today. They got on well.

“Good to see you avoided the commotion Grant. A lot of the Market watch have head off to try and stop the street fights to the north of the Market district. Reports coming back from runners or those returning is that it’s a fruitless endeavour we are almost getting as many injured men as the gangs are.” She said as she cut off an offending section of a finger nail with a small knife. “Let them sort it out I say, more dead thugs means less paperwork we have to do when we can’t question them.

Nodding Grant agreed. Glad he dodged that bullet, “there was a halfling who said there was trouble down in the southern district, what happened to her?” He asked going to avoid more work with a leisurely stroll into the area of the city where the rich employ their own guard.

“Dunno. She took off after Dane questioned her. One less thing to deal with now. I can’t have anything holding me back after work today. I’ve got a date” Karen said with a toothy grin.

“tell me about it tomorrow. Will be more interesting than work I can already tell that.” He laughed as he started to walk back to the mess room before stopping. “You said the halfling spoke to Dane yeah? Where is my little brother?” He smirked, he would do anything for his little brother but his dedication to work was exhausting to be around.

“I think he went off with the captain to the fighting..” Karen said before stopping mid sentence as a man was carried in with an arm missing. “Nasty business this, I hope this won’t hold me back” she said.

The warmth drained from Grant. Hoe could the street gang fighting be this bad. They are normally just a handful of kids who pick pockets or occasionally break into shops. Fighting and serious injury is rarely seen if ever. A stone fell into his gut. Dane. His little Brother was probably on the front lines looking at trying to break it up.

With that Grant was off, grabbing a short sword from the weapon rack to add to the dagger at his hip he made haste for the north. The normally charming remarks from Karen grating on him as he ran out “let the market guys deal with it Grant, its not your job!’

As he dashed through the streets more and more injured people and smashed stalls were revealed. As he followed the train of guard returning from the front lines he constantly scanned for his brother, nothing, a good sign surely as he isnt injured. Relief started to relax his mild panic but the seriousness of the wounds on people was distressing.

Then he started to find the dead. Bodies cut nearly in half with such savagery and brutality he had not seen before. The sandy ground was red and tacky from the blood and everywhere he looked a new body or dying person lay. As he got to the fighting itself he saw the captain fighting several thugs at once, his longsword flashing in the light as it parried and wounded, not killed, thugs. As they fell injured and incapacitated guards ran up and bound them.

“Captain!,” He called as he ran to join him, drawing his blades.

“Grant, good, reinforcements are coming. They are organised Grant. Some guy called Carter is behind it or so we have worked out. His men number in the hundreds and he is fighting all gang members who have territory in this area. We are sustaining casualties, mainly injuries though,” he continued, Grants relief was visible to all near by, even when parrying an attack and knocking out a man with his elbow.

“And Dane sir?” He asked, hope in his voice as he stepped forward and knocked out the last man attacking them. A meaty hand clasper his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Grant. Dane didnt make it. He lies over by the warehouse, we had to retreat when we were ambushed, he held them off whilst we escaped with some civilians…” Grant looked towards where his captain was pointing, rage, white hot and burning surged through his body as the words from his commander vanished as he stepped forward, one foot at a time, towards the heat of the battle where his brother lay against a broken door.

Reports from that day speak of a great push to regain the market, of courage and planning that went of perfectly. What they leave out is how one man fought more savagely than all the gangs combined, never killing just leaving the gang members unable to fight as he moved across the streets like a fissure of wrath and rage, only stopping to pick up the body of a young Sergeant, his brother, and return him to his people.

Not quite a happy post for a Christmas eve post but it ties together a few things for tomorrow. Well I hope you liked it anyway, writing these things on a phone always sees an update or two the days after when I realised I chunky fingered a few letter’s together to make a not-word.

Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for more dungeon and dragons content and as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,

The Brazen Wolfe