D& D - Greyhawk - Night Watch Read Free

down and deposited his two apples within its padded interior.
    It was nearly time to go, he reckoned. He closed the shutters of his two windows and carefully barred them. Without the thin breeze, the room quickly became an oven. Garett went to a hook on the south wall and unwound a cord there, lowering the cresset. He blew out the small flame, plunging the room into darkness. For just an instant, some element of a dream flashed back into his head, but it was too elusive and quickly gone. He hesitated, then shook off the chill sensation it had brought with it, and stepped out into the night.
    He paused again on the landing, took an iron key from his purse, and locked his door. Putting the key away again, he turned and surveyed the city from his second story vantage. A few lanterns sputtered from posts in the empty street immediately below him. The Lamplighters’ Guild in Greyhawk was nothing if not efficient. But most of the shops and dwellings around him were dark. The peaks and pinnacles of rooftops rose around him, stark silhouettes in the encompassing blackness. The air was quiet, almost still. But that was because he’d chosen a quiet neighborhood in which to rent his small apartment.
    There were other parts of Greyhawk, he reminded himself, where, like Capt. Garett Starlen, the residents never stirred until nightfall. Those streets and those people were his special province.
    His apartment dwelling was only two stories high. He ran one hand along the stucco wall as he descended the narrow stairs to street-level. Almi was in her window, as she always was, and waved him off. Her quiet little tavern would stay open most of the night. She’d keep an eye on his place, and none of her customers would cause trouble, because it was generally known that the captain of the City Watch’s night shift lived above her business and would take any harm to her person or her furnishings most personally. Most personally, indeed.
    With a nod to Almi, he stepped out into Moonshadow Lane and walked south a short distance to Cargo Street. West would take him to the river wharves, and he should probably check that area out later. There had been reports of theft along some of the docks lately. Instead, though, he turned east toward the Processional, which was Greyhawk’s main street. In no time, he arrived at the Garden Gate, which separated the Garden Quarter and the High Quarter, the patrician sections of the city, from the rest of Greyhawk’s “great unwashed.” The four guards on duty at the gate recognized him at once and saluted as he passed through.
    The Processional led directly into the High Market Square. For the first time, as Garett walked across the broad •expanse, he noticed the waxing moon as it shed its silvery light upon the hard-packed ground and threw his shadow far before him. Again he noted the surprising quietness of the city. It was most unusual. Even in the High Quarter, of which the High Market Square was officially a part, he normally encountered a few folks wandering about.
    At the end of the Processional loomed the Grand Citadel. It was a tall, intimidating structure, apparently win-dowless to outside appearances due to the way the stones had been cut. Officially it housed offices for the mayor and members of the Directorate, as well as some of Greyhawk’s military leaders, but these days it primarily headquartered the City Watch.
    A flock of birds calling to each other as they flew overhead made Garett look up. Briefly they crossed the moon and were gone. The cries faded shortly after, and the night was still once more.
    Garett sighed and wondered what it would be like to be curled up on the bank of the Selintan with a soft woman in his arms, listening to the purl of the river as it flowed between its banks from the great lake called Nyr Dyv southward to the Azure Sea, with nothing over them but the stars and the moonlight. That would be nice, he figured.
    But he had given up such pleasures. He was captain