"I warn you, I have been trained in the great arts of the sages of Urrad. If you try anything – uurkh!" Before the guard could do anything with his great arts, a hand snapped up him up by the collar.
"Stand down, guard." The older woman holding the guardsman back said the words with the resigned frustration of someone who had dealt too much with youthful shenanigans.
"Yes, nephew," the docent sighed. "this is the young man who saved me."
"Krow," he introduced himself. "Maybe you could secure them before they wake up? I don't want to deal with the guy's movement spell again."
The guardswoman – from the decal on her shoulder armor, an officer – narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded at the other guards that had followed behind her.
The young draculkar got free of the officer and approached the docent. "Great-uncle, we saw…"
The docent nodded once, swallowed and turned away.
His great-nephew stopped, not knowing what to do or say.
"Docent Ordoi," the guard officer approached. "will you tell us what happened?"
Krow turned from watching two guards tie up failed-robber draculkar guy and lift him to their shoulders.
"Of course…" The docent seemed to be lost in thought, then shook his head, focus returning. "Of course, Training Sergeant Amluyr."
He placed his hand on his nephew's shoulder, and started. "I had just sent away most of my morning class, thank the Divines, when the three of them entered."
The training sergeant's eyes swept the room. "Three?"
"There's a siren tied up in one of the ritual rooms, if you're interested." Krow spoke.
"A siren, yes. That was the other." The docent nodded.
One of the guards nodded at the sergeant, and headed for the stairwell.
The sergeant's gaze centered on Krow. "And you are Krow of…"
"Ilas Krow," he elaborated. "Came to conduct a spirit binding on a few items. I was greeted in the hall by the siren, who called himself a priest."
The docent barked a humorless laugh, increasing the concern in his nephew's eyes. "Young people. They do not listen half so well to their lessons as they do to tales of derring-do and adventure."
He smiled bitterly at Krow. "I thank you. Your binding will be paid for by the Temple, of course."
"You are generous, but I came prepared," Krow declined gently. "I only did what any rational person would do."
"You would think," the sergeant murmured, almost to herself, "that the rational person would do the actual rational thing and call the Guard."
Krow lowered his voice to match, leaning toward her. "I'm sorry, sergeant. I was afraid that after telling him I wanted a ritual room, just leaving would make him suspicious."
The sergeant exhaled audibly, acknowledged his words with an inclined head, and returned to questioning the head of the temple. "Please, docent, after they entered?"
"The young male, the leader, walked up. Simply killed them, just took out his sword and...like he was swiping a line of ink across parchment with a pen!" The docent's eyes sparked. Then dimmed again. "It happened so fast, I didn't even realize until their blood washed the stones…I…I didn't realize.
"He turned the sword on me, still red. 'Now,' he said, 'you know I am serious.' Then demanded the location of the vault and that I open it."
The young guard clasped tight the hand his uncle had placed on his shoulder, trying not to look ill.
"Two of my students, promising young ones, they had not even reached their quarter-century." He huffed a laugh that cracked halfway through. "…innocently telling me about their wish to try their hand at the Gauntlet. So much promise, so much."
Tears hung in the silver eyes, expression suddenly vicious as he raised his gaze to the guard officer. "Even if I died, sergeant, I could not give the urfekkar what he wanted. How could I face my ancestors and theirs, if I allowed the one who killed my students to profit from their deaths?"
The docent took a few breaths, then ended. "He was about to kill me, I believe, when the young one came in."
The guard sergeant nodded. "Thank you for telling us, docent."
"No, no. I want those people jailed, never to show their faces in the kingdom again."
"If you give your nephew the names of the deceased, we can send a runner to the families."
"Thank you, but I must go myself. They were entrusted to my care."
"He'll accompany you, regardless."
The docent turned to Krow. "Shall we speak later?"
Krow bowed.
He watched as the docent was gently led away by the nephew.
When the game developers decided that actions of the players had consequences, they went all out. So much that the complexity of NPC behavior had to be taken into account.
Failed-robber, you acted dramatic and cool in the true chuuni way, but bad luck, you failed in your calculations. Now, there will be no chuuni criminal mastermind tugging the strings of the Marfall underground with overly complicated gambits, chess metaphors, and the occasional villainous cackling.
Krow truly regretted it, a tragic loss.
Dealings with the underground would be so much less entertaining now.
"Ilas Krow, was it? Of the Garvan Clan?"
Krow blinked at the sergeant. Then straightened, alarmed. "Sein saw the…"
He didn't see the bodies himself; they must have been on the upper mezzanine.
But Sein was a curious cat of an explorer. He would definitely have reconnoitered the whole of the Temple first.
Sein was the only reason the sergeant would reference the Garvan Clan to him right now.
"The child? No. His sister sent him packing to call a patrol."
"Oh." Krow breathed relief. "Good. But I'm not Clan, no. I traveled with them from Gremut."
"What made you decide to stop the robbery?"
Because he didn't want to do chores for the Kamathor temple just to find their binding Chants, and the Garvan Clan would object to spirit-binding an object to one of their children using the Grenod Temple, whose bindings were the most difficult to get out of – you had to parse through the meanings of the Ritual Language first, and no one understood that language completely.
Telanweth spirit bindings were the simplest to remove, so it would appeal to the caution of the Clan. And for Krow, they were also the simplest to place.
In other words, he was lazy?
He couldn't say that.
Mercifully, while he was scrambling for something suitably heroic to say, she just asked another question. "After locking up the siren, why not, at that time, leave the Temple to inform the authorities?"
"I…didn't think of it?"
The sergeant drew her fingertips across her temple, tracing a line to her ear, a common expression of frustration in draculkar. "Of course you didn't think."
Uh…that wasn't what he said. He opened his mouth to protest.
She glared at him, a faint smile touching her lips. The combination made her look like she could murder him in less than a second.
She probably could.
He shut his mouth.
"Walk me through your actions, from entering the Temple to the Guard coming down here."
Interrogation, Krow thought morosely, was not a proper reward for valiant deeds.
If it were those elite top level players, they'd probably have strode off into the sun right now, cloaks flapping indifferently behind them, wallets fat, heads haloed in glory, and never caring about the paperwork.
He signed a witness statement, deliberately blurring his signature. His name was not on the paperwork, thankfully. He was Witness B.
What?
Who was Witness A?
They didn't even give him the first letter?
Weeping skies.
[The Nurajke Town Guards have taken into their custody three (3) burglars attacking the Temple! You've gained 15 RP with the Temple of Telanweth, and 6 RP with Nyurajke Town!]
Whoa.
…fine.
Let those gloryhounds take the sun.
Krow would sign whatever he needed to sign for the RP.
*
When Krow and the sergeant squeezed through the door in the wardrobe, they saw the docent staring out the window, eyes far away.
He turned at the sound of them exiting the vault, stared at them blankly for a moment.
"Ah, yes." He said at last. "May I speak to young Krow for a moment, sergeant. I sent Dalaad to…to acquire carrying frames."
"Is there anything I might assist you with, docent?" The sergeant was concerned.
Krow understood. The docent looked like he'd been in a daze since the attack.
"I…no, only make certain they get justice."
"Of course. Then, by your leave," the sergeant nodded and left them there.
"Please sit." The docent waved carelessly at the furniture as he himself dropped into the chair behind the desk. "I heard…no, this is no time for flowery words, I will be blunt." His gaze sharpened. "I wish you to kill someone."
Krow paused in the act of sitting, stunned into the awkward pose for a long moment before he realized he looked too uncool and sat down properly.
Did he look like a killer?
Black coat, black trousers, dark blue-grey gun, boots that were so dark they might as well be black, black travel-bag, white gloves.
Eh...he did.
"Um." Krow frowned. "You know it's safer to post a bounty in the 'official' guilds rather than grabbing someone off the street to do your…wetwork?"
That was the classic description, right?
The docent's shoulders slumped. He smiled wryly. "I see that you were not expecting it. No, by your response alone, my fears in that regard are nil."
"Yes. I see why you'd think I'm of the particular profession though." No, were his clothes the reason Sein's relatives and the guard sergeant interrogated him as soon as they saw him?
That…that was prejudice against the color black!
"You fight with stealth and speed, you are a gun-wielder, you have acquaintance with the Kevaldau, and you did not introduce the name of your House, yes."
…a different kind of prejudice then. A passel of prejudices, even.
He smiled, settled his expression to politely enquiring. "I don't see why acquaintance with the Kevaldau would make people think me ready to kill for money."
The docent eyed him, sighed. "You need not defend the Clans to me. My mother was of the blood, after all. I chose to oath to Telanweth for a reason."
A test?
Tsk.
Krow got it. As a mediator, the docent could ease the passage of the Trade Clans through at least the merchant areas in the kingdom.
That had certain implications in the increased trade between the western and eastern halves of the continent.
In Zushkenar, trade across the Urla Mountain Range was nearly non-existent.
He wondered what happened.
Inwardly, a part of him snorted cynically. Why even ask?
War happened.
The docent stood. "I wish to thank you for your acts today."
It was nothing no player would do. But it's not like he would refuse a reward. Krow stood as well.
"Come," the docent re-entered the now not-so-secret wardrobe door to the vault. "This is an offer just for today. One item of Unique rarity from the vault."
Jackpot!
*
End Chapter
*
Notes:
Urfekkar – a slur in draculkar language, very impolite. Based on the draculkar word for 'wolf', which is 'urv'. Or 'urf' in certain dialects.
The docent using it was….you can just hear his nephew mentally falling flat on his face in flabbergasted disbelief – thankfully, this one time, he won't tattle to his grandmother later.. The training sergeant has a good poker face, never gamble with her.
