The city of Vale-By-The-Sea was the biggest transit nexus in the Daggered Shores Archipelago, and it behaved suitably.
The cliffs of the archipelago were the titular daggers, jutting viciously out in the distance. The city itself and its sprawling expanse of docks filled the space between them, providing the only safe landing in the largest—by far—island of the chain. The rest of the city was small by comparison; with little industry and few permanent residents outside of the labor force needed to load, unload, and generally move cargo, the city was dominated by the docks and their support establishments.
Like, for example, the taverns and inns, stretching in a wide, dense arc across most of the city. And the stores, food carts, beggars, and whorehouses.
“This is tasteless,” Harriet eventually blurted out, after being unusually quiet for entire minutes. “None of the economics here make any sense! Everyone stinks! There’s an entire ocean right there—why does nobody take a bath? The fucking Romans had indoor plumbing without magic, why are there people dumping their piss out of the windows using vases?!”
“They’re called chamber pots,” Jason observed.
“How do you even know that?”
“Your mother told me. I never forget the things she teaches me.”
“Oh my god, Dad.” She sighed viciously. “Where are the chandlers? The sailmakers, the blacksmiths, the coopers? There are horses, and they’ve got horseshoes, but I don’t see any farriers!”
“You read the thing!” Her father beamed at her in delight. “I didn’t know you read things I send you. That’s wonderful!”
“He’s a good writer,” she muttered grudgingly. “And it’s cool to know how stuff was really like.”
Investigation
When you look around for clues and make deductions based on those clues, you make an Intelligence (Investigation) check. You might deduce the location of a hidden object, discern from the appearance of a wound what kind of weapon dealt it, or determine the weakest point in a tunnel that could cause it to collapse. Poring through ancient scrolls in search of a hidden fragment of knowledge might also call for an Intelligence (Investigation) check.
ROLLING 1D20+4 against Investigation DC 15…
11+4=15 | REASONABLE Success
“They warehouse almost everything,” her mother said suddenly. “All of the manufacture happens either on the mainland or inland of here. The city administration is so absolutely fucked up that nobody lives here who can’t possibly be elsewhere. See how the horses are all in livery? The Guildhouses probably have their own compounds on the outermost ring, and they’ll have stuff like a farrier in-house. For anything like sailcloth, candles, whatever, see the warehouse over there?”
Perception
Your Wisdom (Perception) check lets you spot, hear, or otherwise detect the presence of something. It measures your general awareness of your surroundings and the keenness of your senses. For example, you might try to hear a conversation through a closed door, eavesdrop under an open window, or hear monsters moving stealthily in the forest. Or you might try to spot things that are obscured or easy to miss, whether they are orcs lying in ambush on a road, thugs hiding in the shadows of an alley, or candlelight under a closed secret door.
Rolling 1D20+1 against Perception DC 5…
Harriet’s nose wrinkled—there was a beggar and a horse in the process of shitting in the middle of the street between her and the warehouse, but she nodded. “I do see the warehouse. What about it? There’s a ton of people loading and unloading shit around it, is some of that sailcloth? How is that even useful as, like, an end-user business?”
“Do you see what’s relevant about the warehouse, dear?”
“Ugh, I hate it when you do this. No! If I saw something quote un quote relevant, I wouldn’t be asking what about it!”
“God almighty, Harrier—”
“—don’t call me that—”
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“—there’s a store there! On the second story, and also probably one down where that set of stairs goes, judging by the two people walking out of there with person-carryable parcels!”
“Girls, please—”
“Okay, so I didn’t see it! Sorry!”
“Dearheart, beloved child, we might have trouble.” Jason’s voice cut through their bickering, and they immediately snapped their attention frontwards, spotting the problem immediately.
It was hard to miss a manned barricade, seemingly teeming with armed and uniformed men and women.
“Pigs,” spat Harriet. “Bet you all cops are bastards here in shitty fantasy land, too.”
“Now, dear,” chided Cassandra, “you should know better than to say things like that.”
“Why, because they might not be?”
“No, dear, because they might hear you.” The mother made eye contact with her startled daughter, smiling. “Just because your Perception is very low doesn’t mean that theirs is, and it’s quite traditional for a maximum roll on a die to have some form of critical success chance. Such as?”
Rolling 1D20+3 against Arcana DC 10…
“An extra ten points,” came the much less loud reply, along with a finger. “An automatic success. An exploding die. An extra die. Kicking the mastery level up by a notch. Doing…” Harriet scrunched up her nose, this time in mental effort. “Doing more notional damage to the abstract HP-representation of the challenge. Oh, and: reroll your lowest die, take the highest of the two results; and, uh, remove a failed die. There’s also systems where nothing happens and systems where a critical success is a failure. Or a success-with-hilarious-complications.”
“Very good! Now, let’s see.” In one breath, the mother making use of a teaching moment drew herself together, everything about her shifting. Everything about her became amplified, like she was sucking in the significance of everything else on the street, including her two traveling companions—she was The Tiefling, The Sorceress, and The Scholar.
Her boots tapped carryingly against the roughly-set cobblestones of the street, somehow avoiding the mud and other effluvia that would cushion her step, and heads all around swiveled.
Rolling 1D20+5 against Performance DC 10…
15+5=20 | MAJOR Success
“Ma’am,” said the man who seemed to be in charge of the squad, swallowing nervously. “I’m afraid we’re not letting anyone through at this time without proper—”
“Paperwork, I’m sure.” She flashed a brilliant smile at the odious slob, as though his uniform weren’t muddy and his facial hair unkempt, as though he’d showered in the past week and had fluoridated drinking water.
Well, she thought grudgingly, maybe that one’s not his fault.
“If you’ll permit—”
Rolling 1D20+6 against Perception DC 15…
Rolling 1D20+1 against Perception DC 15…
Rolling 1D20-1 against Perception DC 15…
18-1=17 | SUBSTANTIAL Success
As one, the three travelers grabbed the urchin who had been trying to sneak up behind them. Both of the women did an almost-identical double take, rapidly assessing the situation and then letting go as the towering half-orc let his hand rest on the erstwhile thief’s shoulder.
“That wasn’t as bad as I bet you’re thinking it was,” he said kindly, “but aren’t you a little young to be out alone? Shouldn’t you be in school? You look hungry—do you want some trail rations? They’re probably terrible, but hey, pickpockets can’t really be choosers, right?”
“… please don’t hurt me, mister.”
“Just take the food,” Cassandra sighed. “And scram before he tries to adopt you or something, because I do not need that complication right now.”
“You really shouldn’t—”
Cassandra turned to the guard with a snarl that had his mouth snapping closed. “Shut. The actual. Fuck. Up. I know a setup when I see one.”
“Ma’am, we can’t take responsibility for every—”
“We’re heading for Bitch-Ditch Gate, to meet up with Caravan Master Mook. I’m not gonna stand here and flap my mouth while ten other punks line up to try to pick our pockets for the consolation prize of a day’s food—”
“Do you think there are ten other kids around who need a meal? I can spare—”
“—not now, dear, I’m talking to the nice guardsman over here. What was I saying? Oh, right.” She leaned in towards the man’s face, eyes and horns becoming black holes of everyone’s attention. “We have right of passage by dint of being about legitimate business. Get the fuck out of our way.”
Rolling 1D20+5 against Intimidation DC 10 [Modified] …
16+5=21 | OVERWHELMING Success
“You heard the lady!” The man practically scrabbled backwards, almost losing his balance. “Get the gate opened for her! Snie, run the word up through Bier Domin Gate, the lady doesn’t need to be bothered, understand!”
“YES SIR!”
“You made the right choice, lieutenant.”
The Sorceress smiled, all soft kindness and grace.
Nobody, least of all the lieutenant, was fooled.