Journal of Lt. Tupper, Day 154

Day 154
Completely forgot about the hearing.

Milya was kind enough to come over and drag me out of bed for it. I showed up unshaven, sleepy-eyed, smelling like dung, and an hour late. Smythe started the morning off with the journal entry that listed all the group's various criminal acts. It was brought up that, out of the seven reports expected of me, only four were sent; all of dubious quality and none of them on time. Then he finally got around to yesterday's arrest of a Mr. Rupert Saxon and my involvement in it, and so he requested my current journal for 'perusal of behavior.' We recessed while he read through it, and I was just about to ask Milya if her father needed a spare goat-herder when he called me back in.

He was grinning like a maniac ablaze, but worse yet, he was nice at me. He asked if I could vouch for the veracity of what I wrote, I said yes, he gave me the ol' foul-eye… and then he started giggling. He handed the journal to a page, sat right down next to me, and patted me on the back. I have witnessed driders, dragons, and the undead; this single act terrified me most of all.

He said that he was only hard on me because he wanted to be sure that I was on the level and up to the job, and now that I had proven myself to be reliable (specifically, "a lad of rigorous ethos and morality"), he could trust me with regular duty. He told me he was very proud of me, then he wrote a note of recommendation and sent me off to see Stuart. At this point, I'm lucky to manage a 'thank you.'

When I got in to HQ, I found a fresh pile of wapos churned out by the scribes; all of them for one Cogmer Warpspanner, AKA 4C, AKA the Thrum Bumper.
The son of a bitch wanted the gnome.

Stuart filled me in on the details; how a short madman had been marauding through the city, tackling various people and dragging them into the sewers. The guards would find them later in an alleyway somewhere, alive but severely beaten. "4C" had been a thorn in Smythe's arse for months now, and my journal had been the final piece of evidence needed to track him down.

And so: for the act of risking life and limb in the apprehension of a murderer, I have received a commendation. For the act of writing down a name, I have been granted the full rank of Lieutenant with all due rights and responsibilities. This also means I can now weasel out of escort duty for the Order knights (what's left of them), since the reason for my task was more at proving myself rather than helping them out. Putting aside the fact that there is now a small guano-grade lunatic within the city limits who has ample reason and capability to make my life a never-ending hell, I think I'll see my current duty through.

Spent the afternoon hocking stuff and buying supplies for the trip. Left my old journal with Milya, figured she'll get a kick out of it. Next caravan to Ismere leaves tomorrow morning, going to bed early to catch up on lost sleep.

May St. Cuthbert guard my bed from crazy gnomes.
May I live to serve in St. Cuthbert's name.