In commemoration of Myrkan's tricentennial celebration, a company of druids known as the Verdant Watchers have embarked on a campaign to create and dedicate a number of civic park spaces in the city, in some of the oldest and most run-down urban areas. Their efforts have largely been lauded by the citizens.
However, not more than a week ago, something rather tragic happened. While returning home from a small neighborhood celebration, one of the archdruids of the guild was struck down and killed by a number of unseen assailants, who stabbed him to death and fled the scene moments afterward.
The Watch has been called upon by the druids and King Darius to not only protect the druids as they continue their commemorations, but to find those responsible for the death of the archdruid. Their search will take them through paved streets and forests, through past and future, and through a rather mucky debate over the proper balance between progress and the Old Ways...
This is a 3-4 player game using the Fate dice system. It will be a game filled with intrigue, mystery, a few cheap scares, some dashing swordplay, and an unexpected run-in with Big Business. The (questionably) heroic Watchmen will learn how to identify trees from quite a long ways off, discover the life cycle of protest groups, and unearth a secret so monumental that it may change the face of Myrkan forever.Lieutenant Gareth sighed and turned his head away from the crime scene before him. "What a bloody mess," he muttered to himself. Fumbling fingers reached into his pocket and withdrew paper and tabac, cursing all the while as he tried and failed to roll a dog-ended cigarette.
In all his twenty years, he'd never seen so terrible a murder as this.
There was blood everywhere. And for such a big alley, that was quite a feat. The old man had never stood a chance. Even one or two people could have easily overpowered him as he made his way home through the winding streets of the Poor Quarter. The Lieutenant guessed that at least fifteen had been involved in the attack. Coordinated, of a single purpose... and ruthless. They'd dealt their victim a great amount of pain before they'd killed him.
There was evidence of torture. What kind of sick souls could do such a thing to a harmless old man?
"I'll understand if you want to be taken off the case," came a voice from behind him.
Lieutenant Gareth turned, slightly surprised. Before him stood a small, thin halfling with a shock of dark brown hair and deep green eyes. He was dressed simply, but in clothes of elegant cut; his posture belied great confidence, though his expression was sympathetic.
Gareth removed the cigarette from between his pursed lips and stood at attention. "Begging your pardon, Captain Twostrider. I... just needed a moment. It's something of a shock, to tell the truth. Haven't ever seen anything of the like."
Elmo Twostrider waved his hand and nodded. Immediately, Gareth dropped his salute and relaxed slightly. "I believe I can agree with that," replied the Captain, rubbing his chin musingly. "I'd say this was the work of cutpurses, or thieves, but there was nothing of value taken. I might conclude that this was a revenge killing, but the old man has no enemies to speak of... he's a very respectable druid, within his circle."
Lieutenant Gareth blinked. "Druid, sir?"
"Yes, this was Mardonis Leafwalker, a Druid of the seventh degree, amongst the company known as the Verdant Watchers." Elmo sniffed and looked back at the grisly display the murder scene afforded to him. "They're here at the grace of King Darius, 'to give their contribution to the city's celebrations and spectacles', in the King's own words." Elmo chuckled in spite of himself. "We've a spectacle on our hands, to be sure."
"What shall we do, sir?" Lieutenant Gareth wrung his hands anxiously. "The druids will surely cry for blood."
Elmo stuffed his hands into his pockets and let out a sigh as heavy as iron. "Well, there's little we can do. We'll have to afford the druids a contingent of Watchmen, to see this doesn't happen again, but..." The halfling stopped mid-sentence, and fell silent. After a moment of quiet deliberation, though, a smirk slowly crept onto his lips. "But I think there may be something we can do after all."
"There's a group of lads of mine, over in Precinct Thirty-two," responded Elmo, still smiling. It was clear now that the gears in his head were turning quite fast. "They've done well for themselves, well for recruits who're so relatively new." The smirk broadened into a sly smile. "I think I've found a new case for them..."