First patrol. His feet clank rhythmically against the cobblestone streets of Upper Limsa Lominsa. It's raining, but the hat and Maelstrom coat keep him reasonably insulated and dry. This is a new thing for Dogberry, being on this side of the law. Part of the new deal he worked out with the Maelstrom. They assist with the primal job, he gives them the fruit of whatever that job turns out to be. To keep him close, they posted him on foot patrols like he's some kind of yellowjacket. Whatever, so long as he gets to keep his ship.
"How's yer ma?" a passerby asks. Some punk kid, hoping to get a rise out of him. Dogberry just laughs. Limsa's still such a pirate town the police get no respect around here. The puzzled kid goes on his way, and Dogberry goes on his, checking through The Drowning Wench to check on things there. Maybe have a shot and a beer.
He hears a commotion as he approaches. Shouting voices. Chairs scuffing against the ground as people stand and push their chairs back. He's been at this just over an hour and already he's seeing action. He steps into the bar, finally out of this rain, and into the fray as one Roegadyn man holds another bent over the table, pressing his face against the surface. A Lalafell man is repeatedly kicking the poor sod's head while he's down. Dogberry slips on his brass knuckles and steps up behind the nasty business. He clears his throat. The Lalafell stops kicking long enough to look up.
"Looks like he's had enough, mate," Dogberry says casually. "Let him up now and we can all get back to our drinkin' aye?"
"Sod off," the Lalafell says. "This don't concern you!"
"I'm afraid it does, see, bein' as this breaks the law an' all," Dogberry says. This time the Roegadyn lets go and turns around. He remains silent, trying to stare Dogberry down.
"Law's not all that's gonna be broke here you don't run off and hide behind the Admiral's skirt," The Roegadyn says finally. The Lalafell laughs.
"You got a point," Dogberry says, and kicks out at the perp's knee, making it bend the wrong way. The Roegadyn howls in pain briefly until a right hook connects with his temple and sends him like a sack of popotos to the floor. The victim, the one with his head on the table, panics and does a tuck and roll out of the way. Dogberry produces a pair of manacles from his belt and cuffs the unconscious Roegadyn. By the time he looks up, the Lalafell is gone. Dogberry puts a hand to his ear, pressing a linkpearl into it.
"We got one needs pickin' up at the Wench," Dogberry says. "Bring a wheelbarrow, he ain't walkin'. I'm in pursuit of a Lallafell, male, about three and a quarter fulms, brown hair, red shirt."
Dogberry took off walking in the direction the victim was pointing. He nodded in thanks, taking his time getting where he's going. No need to run, he thought. He'll find him eventually. Walk these streets long enough, you'll find any damn thing if you know where to look.
"How's yer ma?" a passerby asks. Some punk kid, hoping to get a rise out of him. Dogberry just laughs. Limsa's still such a pirate town the police get no respect around here. The puzzled kid goes on his way, and Dogberry goes on his, checking through The Drowning Wench to check on things there. Maybe have a shot and a beer.
He hears a commotion as he approaches. Shouting voices. Chairs scuffing against the ground as people stand and push their chairs back. He's been at this just over an hour and already he's seeing action. He steps into the bar, finally out of this rain, and into the fray as one Roegadyn man holds another bent over the table, pressing his face against the surface. A Lalafell man is repeatedly kicking the poor sod's head while he's down. Dogberry slips on his brass knuckles and steps up behind the nasty business. He clears his throat. The Lalafell stops kicking long enough to look up.
"Looks like he's had enough, mate," Dogberry says casually. "Let him up now and we can all get back to our drinkin' aye?"
"Sod off," the Lalafell says. "This don't concern you!"
"I'm afraid it does, see, bein' as this breaks the law an' all," Dogberry says. This time the Roegadyn lets go and turns around. He remains silent, trying to stare Dogberry down.
"Law's not all that's gonna be broke here you don't run off and hide behind the Admiral's skirt," The Roegadyn says finally. The Lalafell laughs.
"You got a point," Dogberry says, and kicks out at the perp's knee, making it bend the wrong way. The Roegadyn howls in pain briefly until a right hook connects with his temple and sends him like a sack of popotos to the floor. The victim, the one with his head on the table, panics and does a tuck and roll out of the way. Dogberry produces a pair of manacles from his belt and cuffs the unconscious Roegadyn. By the time he looks up, the Lalafell is gone. Dogberry puts a hand to his ear, pressing a linkpearl into it.
"We got one needs pickin' up at the Wench," Dogberry says. "Bring a wheelbarrow, he ain't walkin'. I'm in pursuit of a Lallafell, male, about three and a quarter fulms, brown hair, red shirt."
Dogberry took off walking in the direction the victim was pointing. He nodded in thanks, taking his time getting where he's going. No need to run, he thought. He'll find him eventually. Walk these streets long enough, you'll find any damn thing if you know where to look.
![[Image: BZneHYK.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/BZneHYK.jpg)
No Gods and Precious Few Heroes
