Very very backdated: Carrot goes to the Police Chief in search of employment
Who: Harry Potter & Carrot Ironfoundersson, open to anyone else who might have business here
What: Job searching
Where: The police station
When: Sometime in early November 2011
Why: Because Carrot is a policeman through and through
Rating: No higher than PG, surely
The militia suited Carrot well. He'd taken to alternating shifts between day and night, having an instinct for when the patrols were shorthanded and wordlessly presenting himself at those times. When he wasn't patrolling, he worked with the less experienced recruits as the Baron had asked, in groups as well as individually if someone requested it.
It took up his time, leaving him little leisure for brooding about his situation, and it made him feel needed. There were enough minor incidents to allow him to feel useful, but thankfully nothing really serious, so he didn't have to feel guilty for being relieved there was trouble here.
Aternaville didn't really need him. Not the way Ankh-Morpork had. But it needed him a little, and for now that was enough.
Unfortunately, there were things Carrot needed that the militia just didn't provide. Things like money. The City Hall had helped him exchange the coins he'd arrived carrying, and he'd reluctantly traded even the money he'd set aside for the dwarf bread museum. But he refused to spend the coins he'd set aside to send to his parents, and he refused to become a burden on the town by accepting the stipend they'd offered him for doing nothing.
And then there was shelter. He'd done all right so far with the park and the docks and other public areas, sleeping in the grass and bathing in the harbor when no one else was about. They were much cleaner than any place in Ankh-Morpork and quite sufficient for his needs. But it was beginning to get colder at night, and he had no warmer gear with him, only his short leather cape. He remembered what it was to nearly freeze to death. It had brought Angua to him once, but he didn't expect that trick to work here.
Also, he was running out of armor polish. And keeping his armor outdoors was threatening to take its toll on the brilliant shine.
So he needed a job. And it had weighed on his mind ever since Balaz had told him how the town's police force was so short-handed. He could do the same good patrolling with a badge as without one, he reasoned; perhaps even more.
So this morning found him standing in front of the town's police headquarters, breastplate and chainmail gleaming brightly, helmet tucked under his arm. The library had not yielded up a book with the complete rules and ordinances of Aternaville, which made him feel rather unprepared, but surely the Watch Captain here could help him acquire one.
Pushing open the door, he ducked his head a bit to enter, and straightened to his full six and a half feet again once he was inside. "Pardon me." He was all courtesy, despite the pride in the way he held himself. "I'm looking for the Commander of the Watch, please. Detective Potter?"
What: Job searching
Where: The police station
When: Sometime in early November 2011
Why: Because Carrot is a policeman through and through
Rating: No higher than PG, surely
The militia suited Carrot well. He'd taken to alternating shifts between day and night, having an instinct for when the patrols were shorthanded and wordlessly presenting himself at those times. When he wasn't patrolling, he worked with the less experienced recruits as the Baron had asked, in groups as well as individually if someone requested it.
It took up his time, leaving him little leisure for brooding about his situation, and it made him feel needed. There were enough minor incidents to allow him to feel useful, but thankfully nothing really serious, so he didn't have to feel guilty for being relieved there was trouble here.
Aternaville didn't really need him. Not the way Ankh-Morpork had. But it needed him a little, and for now that was enough.
Unfortunately, there were things Carrot needed that the militia just didn't provide. Things like money. The City Hall had helped him exchange the coins he'd arrived carrying, and he'd reluctantly traded even the money he'd set aside for the dwarf bread museum. But he refused to spend the coins he'd set aside to send to his parents, and he refused to become a burden on the town by accepting the stipend they'd offered him for doing nothing.
And then there was shelter. He'd done all right so far with the park and the docks and other public areas, sleeping in the grass and bathing in the harbor when no one else was about. They were much cleaner than any place in Ankh-Morpork and quite sufficient for his needs. But it was beginning to get colder at night, and he had no warmer gear with him, only his short leather cape. He remembered what it was to nearly freeze to death. It had brought Angua to him once, but he didn't expect that trick to work here.
Also, he was running out of armor polish. And keeping his armor outdoors was threatening to take its toll on the brilliant shine.
So he needed a job. And it had weighed on his mind ever since Balaz had told him how the town's police force was so short-handed. He could do the same good patrolling with a badge as without one, he reasoned; perhaps even more.
So this morning found him standing in front of the town's police headquarters, breastplate and chainmail gleaming brightly, helmet tucked under his arm. The library had not yielded up a book with the complete rules and ordinances of Aternaville, which made him feel rather unprepared, but surely the Watch Captain here could help him acquire one.
Pushing open the door, he ducked his head a bit to enter, and straightened to his full six and a half feet again once he was inside. "Pardon me." He was all courtesy, despite the pride in the way he held himself. "I'm looking for the Commander of the Watch, please. Detective Potter?"