Nirrvash Damn, for the third time in a row, I'm putting the chapter out on Saturday instead of Friday. Sorry about that, guys - I might as well make it a thing, though. I don't know, I guess Fridays are my busiest day, so...anyway, the rewrite of Lament of the Slave is going well - I'd say very well. In the next week I'm going to make the rewrite available to the lower tier patreons, so for $2 you will be able to take a peek, feel free if you want. Then with the beginning of May I'd like to publish the first chapter here on Royal Road and Scribblehub. At least that's the plan, but you know how it is with plans, they rarely survive when they meet with real life.
Anyway, enjoy the chapter.
Elias Pichler somewhat had a routine day at the Southeastern Gate, also known as the Esulmor Gate. The road from the city led, among other places, to the Esulmor Woods, where the mossbears lived, dangerous beasts that a man like him wanted nothing to do with. Fortunately, so far, they’ve stayed in their woods, and the only ones who’ve ventured near the walls despite the presence of the Labyrinth have been the packs of iron-fanged wolves here and there, disturbing the otherwise calm flow at the gate.
The Old Road, which had once skirted the woods, now ran right through them, through the territory of the Mossbears. Quite a dangerous undertaking, which was the reason for the New Road, a longer but safer route that went further south around the woods.
Unfortunately, despite the inconvenience, traffic had increased somewhat since the northern eagles and Miros had taken up residence in the Granora Mountain Range, and the plains below to the northwest had become their hunting grounds.
Still, the woods along the New Road made this gate one of the least used in Castiana. There was something haunting about the shadows within. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t see a darn thing. A stark contrast to watching the open sky for birds.
Not that Elias had traveled the road himself. Just bits and pieces he picked up from those who did.
Anyway, as said, this was still the least used of the gates.
That’s the way Elias liked it: no hustle and bustle. No dealings with angry merchants from dawn to dusk.
The bastards were reluctant to let go of a single copper, always complaining about the state of the roads and so on. And they were always furious when they had to pay the merchants’ entrance fee to the city, which was one of the lowest in the Empire. Be it him . . .
“Elias?!” his fellow gate guard, a subordinate, a friend, and possibly even more - with occasional benefits - shouted his name for the umpteenth time, only now getting through to him. Not the first time this had happened. He just tended to get lost in thought while she was too chatty.
“Yes, Brynn?” he asked, unperturbed, after brushing himself off.
“Ah, so you’re finally listening. Good.”
“You were saying?”
She scoffed. “I was guessing what shit you were thinking so hard about. The orders we got? Or a report from the night shift? How long has it been . . . eight months?”
“Eight and a half,” Elias corrected her.
“Yes, that’s what I said. I’m telling you . . . that Grey, being here at night and meeting her in her beast form . . . I’d shit my pants.”
Elias thought back to the last time he had seen the woman and what she looked like. According to the night shift, she was even bigger and scarier than before. “Then we’re lucky there are some spare uniforms in the gatehouse.”
“Asshole!” Brynn growled.
A lame remark about their night together two days ago came to his mind. Knowing her, however, he kept it to himself. As with the gate, Elias liked peace in his relationships. “Anyway, I can’t judge. I haven’t seen her.”
“If you’d get off your ass like I told you to and get out of Drunken Filly like most of the tavern did, you would. She changed right there on the street.”
“I had good cards in my hand; couldn’t just leave the coins to the guys, could I?”
She frowned, knowing full well that he used the coins he won to buy her a drink. “Did you see the way she chugged the Dragon Fart?”
“Like it was just water.”
“Her [Constitution] must be at 300, or damn close. Can you imagine that? She’s not that far away from us - level-wise - but mine is only at 95.”
[Guardswoman: lvl 138]
Not by leaps and bounds, but Brynn has grown up. Level-wise. She still stood a head shorter than him, and her titties were just an ounce smaller than he preferred. A minor flaw. The woman had bigger ones he had to swallow - like a penchant for getting her toes licked. Weird as fuck, kind of nasty since she walked barefoot all day. But she made adorable noises once he let her talk him into it.
“103, mine.”
“I know,” she gritted her teeth. “Elias Pichler, the guy who joined the ranks of those who can drink Dragon Fart without burning his guts.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her frustration; the way she bit her lip was cute. “Give it a month and you’ll get your name on the plaque, too.”
A plaque in the Drunken Filly, engraved with the names of all the regulars who were able to drink the Dragon Fart. An honor for many. In reality, not a very good drink. Elias preferred a good old ale.
“As if. That’s two levels for me. I don’t have the bonuses, you have Elias.”
“Imagine what Grey must have.”
“Yeah, even if she shoved all her stat points into her [Constitution] - which would be ass-stupid - the skills must boost her constitution by at least double.”
“Not so unusual, is it? Your strength . . .”
“Yes, yes, and your agility. Still . . . there’s something weird going on. You know, the way they came back from Fallen’s Cry, her and Palemoon. That BIG meeting that went on for half a day, all hush-hush. I’ve never seen the Captain so serious.”
“Is that what’s eating you? Or was it that she was more insistent than ever that we think about how we approach our skills?” The woman had been nagging them about it all morning during roll call.
“Yes. I mean, what else is there to think about, right? They’re skills. You pick the best one you can and train in what’s best for it.”
The old tried-and-true approach. Why risk something new when the old is still working well, right? Yet whether the likes of him liked it or not, Rayden showed them more than once how foolish that way of thinking was. He would be turning a blind eye to the truth if he pretended there was nothing to it. “You know yourself that the way I train with the sword is not ideal for you.”
“The whole fucking reason you have nine levels on me. If I hadn’t trained with you from the beginning . . . Anyway, I’m not blind. I can see that if I had a skill like [Golden Piss], the only thing I’d get from pissing standing up would be wet legs. What I don’t understand is how there can be more to it than that. Seriously, should I do it on all fours like a bitch, or stand on my head?”
Elias chuckled. Not only because of the funny image that came to his mind but also at the frustrated look on Brynn’s face.
“Stop grinning, you asshole!”
“Then stop giving me reasons to.”
“Whatever . . . you know, I don’t think the Captain told us everything.”
“As if she ever did.” That wasn’t his beef with their captain. On the contrary, Elias was perfectly fine with not knowing the ins and outs of dealing with the City Lord or the Big Meeting. All he needed to know were the things necessary to do his job well.
“Well, I don’t mind her forcing us to use our brains. If only . . . if only she’d told us more. You know, just a hint,” Brynn said, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Cause I’m at my wit’s end.”
“Why not try asking her?”
She paled visibly at the thought. “I tried once. She made me clean latrines for a month.”
“That’s because you bothered her with bullshit.”
“Hey, that . . .”
“Heads up, we have arrivals!”
“We’re not done yet,” Brynn grumbled, but like him, she kept her eyes on the road. A wagon pulled by two horses, a damned strange ox tied to a rope behind it, two people on a bench, maybe more inside. Merchants, by the looks of it.
***
“Brynn?”
“. . .”
“Brynn? Can you please stop whistling? It’s driving me crazy.”
“That’s the fucking point,” she barked back and continued louder.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
“For?”
“For? I don’t know. For whatever I said.”
“Traina’s tits! I didn’t ask Rayden any bullshit questions.”
“Oh, come on. Why else do you think she was disciplining you? That woman hardly ever does anything on a whim.”
“. . .” More of the loud whistling followed. If only she was in tune, but ‘Down the Creek’ in her take was awful.
Elias Pichler took a deep breath and tried to put the whistling out of his mind. Alas, unsuccessfully.
“You should stop listening to Vara.”
“What?” Brynn paused as Elias spoke out of the blue.
“She’s the one who made you ask the Captain if she had a thing with Lieutenant Blaine, isn’t she?”
“Hey, it was a valid concern. It would have had an impact on the whole City Guards.”
“Sure . . . head’s up!”
Training and duty kicked in, and she stood at attention, only to grit her teeth. “I swear, that ‘head’s up’ of yours . . . you’re so damn lucky today.”
Elias, however, felt just the opposite. Ever since the roll call, things had not been going as they should have . And the culprit, he believed, was now speeding down the road to the Esulmor Gate.
“Damn, not knowing it is her . . .”
“You’d shit your pants, I know.”
“Asshole.”
“Sweet. Just so you know, I would too. That’s a beast I wouldn’t want to fight.” Which was odd in itself. As far as he could see, she was a level 153 Deviant - whatever the heck that was - yet the feeling he got from her was that of a level 200 beast.
“Stop,” he held up a hand as Grey, accompanied by Deckard and the Imperial Agent - just as the night shift report had said - made their way over. The strength of these two men was astounding, levels far beyond the limits he could see. Only years of experience at the gate kept his voice from shaking. “Your plates, please, sirs, ma’am.”
“Elias, they are . . .”
It wasn’t that he didn’t care who was in front of him. Rather, when he couldn’t think of anything else to say, his brain fell back on what he was used to.
“It’s all right, Corporal Larmaze,” the Imperial Agent told Brynn. “Actually, it’s good to see that the standards are being upheld for everyone. Here’s mine.”
The Imperial Agent ID was a joke as far as Elias was concerned. No name, no level, nothing, just their crest and encrypted information for the Identification Station to crack and compare. It was then up to the guardsmen like him and Brynn to decide whether to blindly trust the magic tool and tuck their tails between their legs, or to be more vigilant.
On the other hand, according to what they were briefed on every year, the agent’s ID plate should disintegrate under the runes and enchantments woven into the metal plate if it was ever touched by anyone other than the agent himself. The reason Sah just presented his never letting it out of his hand.
When Elias held the Identification Station to the metal plate, it confirmed the agent’s identity.
“You’re good, thank you, sir.”
“May I?” Brynn beamed at him when it was Deckard’s turn. There was hardly anyone in the City Guards who hadn’t heard of the man, and most knew his face. After all, he had trained most of them when he was still a lieutenant. Elias was no exception. The man deserved the admiration, though he would have preferred Brynn to be more subtle about it.
“Sure,” he handed her over to the Identification Station to do the work. Her smile and her happiness were worth it. Besides, it might get her off his ass.
“All in order, you are clear, sir,” she sang as she handed Deckard his ID back. Then her eyes, and Elias’ as well, fell on the fox-like beast. Before their eyes, it transformed into a woman, simple clothes covering her in an instant.
“I still don’t have a new one,” Grey scratched the back of her head.
“New one?” Brynn wondered. “You mean you haven’t updated the information, right?”
“No, she literally needs a new one,” Deckard grinned, and Brynn’s cheeks visibly flushed. “Lost hers . . . in the Labyrinth.”
“Ah, word is out that you showed up at Fallen’s Cry armed with nothing but your wits . . . Sorry, I didn’t mean . . .”
“It’s okay.” Grey stopped Brynn. “It’s true.”
“If you lose your plate, you’re entitled to report it and have a new one issued,” Elias remarked somewhat automatically, whereupon Brynn rewarded him with a kick to the shin. Since he, like her, was wearing standard armor, her bare feet made it more painful for her than for him.
“Well, I reported it . . .”
“It wouldn’t do much good if they issued you a new one. Your details wouldn’t match anyway,” the Imperial Agent remarked, causing Elias to look at the woman again.
[Deviant: lvl 153]
Damn!
If he remembered correctly, and he was sure that he did, her level was only 148 last night at the Drunken Filly.
“Traiana’s tits, five freaking levels? How did I miss that?”
“So you see the problem, Corporal Larmaze.”
“I-I do, sir. But how? Is this what the Captain was talking about this morning? Is there really more to the skills that I am not seeing?”
“Corporal, that is . . .”
“Please, teach me, Grey,” Brynn dared to interrupt the Imperial Agent’s speech, much to Elias’ horror.
“Sir, she tends to get overzealous,” Elias quickly apologized, frowning at his friend. “Brynn, tone it down!”
“But Elias, look at her. Five levels in one night . . .”
“There must be a reason.”
“There is,” Grey nodded. “More than one, actually.”
“See.”
“I’m not stupid, but I just don’t see what the Captain wants us to see, do you?”
“. . .” Elias could only agree with her. Sure, it was only the morning she had told them to think more deeply about their skills - not really time to give it proper consideration, yet . . . “I’m sure the Captain will tell us more in time.”
“More like we will have to figure it out for ourselves, as always,” Brynn grumbled, her eyes fixed on Grey, pleading. “Please, I’m willing to pay you.”
That caught both Grey and him off guard. Brynn was not good at saving money. Instead, she tended to spend the coins within a few days of payday and then live off the scraps and his goodwill for the rest of the month.
“No - I mean . . .” stammered Grey. “I’m sorry, but . . .”
“Please. You know what the Captain meant, don’t you? I’m sure some other guys would be willing to take lessons from you.”
“That’s . . .”
“Actually, not such a bad idea, Grey,” the Imperial Agent interjected. “You and Palemoon are the ones with the most experience with the system and how it works.”
“What about Deckard?”
“He’s not a city guard anymore, you are.”
“But I never taught anyone. Plus the time it takes . . . I have so much to learn myself, don’t I, Deckard?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Little Beast. The agent has a point. Yes, I know, your combat training in your human form. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. You’re my apprentice. But there’s only so much I can teach you, and you can learn from me. If you want to be good, you need a bigger variety of opponents than me and at your level. Actually, I’ve been thinking about how to go about it, where to get them.”
“You didn’t think of my Squad?”
“There are only three of them - four if you count Palemoon. Besides, even they have to learn what the corporal here is so eager to learn.”
The truth of what Deckard said, the loss, was so easy to read in Grey’s body language. The slight movement of ears, wings, and tail, the clenched fists, and the soft wrinkling of her nose - no matter what they said, and he could see, in human form, she didn’t strike Elias as any different from a beast.
“Don’t we have other problems to deal with? Deckard? Sah?”
“I’ve been thinking about it on the way,and . . . By the way, did anyone suspicious come through the gate ahead of us, Sergeant?”
“Can you specify the suspect, sir?”
“Someone who would not seem to be who they are to you. Even if it is just a feeling on your part.”
The agent bastard couldn’t be more vague.
“Just a wagon of merchants. I can show you the papers, but nothing unusual, sir.”
“What are you talking about, Elias? They had a strange ox with them. Some rare breed from the East, they claimed. For sale.”
“An ox?”
“Yes, sir,” Brynn nodded, as if the animal was some great secret she had stumbled upon.
“Just an animal, sir,” Elias interjected, albeit hesitantly.
Nevertheless, interesting."
“Ehm . . . Sah?”
“Ah, sorry, Grey. I know. Like I said, I’ve been thinking about it, and as much as it rubs me the wrong way, and apparently it’s going to be pretty hard for me to do that, the best and safest approach will be to wait and see.”
“And for you, Little Beast, to stay true to yourself,” Deckard chimed in, only adding to Elias’ urge to ask what the heck the three of them were talking about. But he knew when to keep his mouth shut, unlike Brynn.
“Is this about the beasts in Esulmor? Are they as big as they say? Like a house? Anyway . . . please, Grey. I want to get stronger and kick this moron’s ass.”
“I-I don’t . . .”
“Not the most admirable reason, but a reason nonetheless.”
“As much as I hate it, I have to agree with you, Agent. It’s important to have motivation . . . it would be a shame to waste it, wouldn’t it, Little Beast?” When she growled in response and Deckard chuckled, the Imperial Agent took over. “In addition to training, I think you would benefit from understanding how to deal with people, how to lead them. Something you should learn, given your position, Guardian of Idleaf.”
Obviously not happy about it - and Elias fully understood the woman, having been forced to do things he didn’t like more than once in his life - she eventually dropped her wings in defeat. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“YES!” Brynn beamed, taking a step closer to Grey. “When?”
“A little patience, Corporal,” Sah stopped her. “Something you could learn from your sergeant. Although he could use a little more of your enthusiasm.”
Elias sighed inwardly. “Yes, sir.” What was so bad about wanting things to stay the way they were?
“Anyway, I’ll put forward the suggestion of Grey teaching those who are willing to Captain Rayden. It’s her decision to make, Corporal.”
“Yes, sir,” she stood at attention and saluted enthusiastically, well aware of their captain’s attitude. The woman loved proactivity from her men so much, it wouldn’t surprise Elias if their first lesson with Grey was as early as tomorrow.
Nirrvash Damn, for the third time in a row, I'm putting the chapter out on Saturday instead of Friday. Sorry about that, guys - I might as well make it a thing, though. I don't know, I guess Fridays are my busiest day, so...anyway, the rewrite of Lament of the Slave is going well - I'd say very well. In the next week I'm going to make the rewrite available to the lower tier patreons, so for $2 you will be able to take a peek, feel free if you want. Then with the beginning of May I'd like to publish the first chapter here on Royal Road and Scribblehub. At least that's the plan, but you know how it is with plans, they rarely survive when they meet with real life.
Anyway, enjoy the chapter.
Elias Pichler somewhat had a routine day at the Southeastern Gate, also known as the Esulmor Gate. The road from the city led, among other places, to the Esulmor Woods, where the mossbears lived, dangerous beasts that a man like him wanted nothing to do with. Fortunately, so far, they’ve stayed in their woods, and the only ones who’ve ventured near the walls despite the presence of the Labyrinth have been the packs of iron-fanged wolves here and there, disturbing the otherwise calm flow at the gate.
The Old Road, which had once skirted the woods, now ran right through them, through the territory of the Mossbears. Quite a dangerous undertaking, which was the reason for the New Road, a longer but safer route that went further south around the woods.
Unfortunately, despite the inconvenience, traffic had increased somewhat since the northern eagles and Miros had taken up residence in the Granora Mountain Range, and the plains below to the northwest had become their hunting grounds.
Still, the woods along the New Road made this gate one of the least used in Castiana. There was something haunting about the shadows within. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t see a darn thing. A stark contrast to watching the open sky for birds.
Not that Elias had traveled the road himself. Just bits and pieces he picked up from those who did.
Anyway, as said, this was still the least used of the gates.
That’s the way Elias liked it: no hustle and bustle. No dealings with angry merchants from dawn to dusk.
The bastards were reluctant to let go of a single copper, always complaining about the state of the roads and so on. And they were always furious when they had to pay the merchants’ entrance fee to the city, which was one of the lowest in the Empire. Be it him . . .
“Elias?!” his fellow gate guard, a subordinate, a friend, and possibly even more - with occasional benefits - shouted his name for the umpteenth time, only now getting through to him. Not the first time this had happened. He just tended to get lost in thought while she was too chatty.
“Yes, Brynn?” he asked, unperturbed, after brushing himself off.
“Ah, so you’re finally listening. Good.”
“You were saying?”
She scoffed. “I was guessing what shit you were thinking so hard about. The orders we got? Or a report from the night shift? How long has it been . . . eight months?”
“Eight and a half,” Elias corrected her.
“Yes, that’s what I said. I’m telling you . . . that Grey, being here at night and meeting her in her beast form . . . I’d shit my pants.”
Elias thought back to the last time he had seen the woman and what she looked like. According to the night shift, she was even bigger and scarier than before. “Then we’re lucky there are some spare uniforms in the gatehouse.”
“Asshole!” Brynn growled.
A lame remark about their night together two days ago came to his mind. Knowing her, however, he kept it to himself. As with the gate, Elias liked peace in his relationships. “Anyway, I can’t judge. I haven’t seen her.”
“If you’d get off your ass like I told you to and get out of Drunken Filly like most of the tavern did, you would. She changed right there on the street.”
“I had good cards in my hand; couldn’t just leave the coins to the guys, could I?”
She frowned, knowing full well that he used the coins he won to buy her a drink. “Did you see the way she chugged the Dragon Fart?”
“Like it was just water.”
“Her [Constitution] must be at 300, or damn close. Can you imagine that? She’s not that far away from us - level-wise - but mine is only at 95.”
[Guardswoman: lvl 138]
Not by leaps and bounds, but Brynn has grown up. Level-wise. She still stood a head shorter than him, and her titties were just an ounce smaller than he preferred. A minor flaw. The woman had bigger ones he had to swallow - like a penchant for getting her toes licked. Weird as fuck, kind of nasty since she walked barefoot all day. But she made adorable noises once he let her talk him into it.
“103, mine.”
“I know,” she gritted her teeth. “Elias Pichler, the guy who joined the ranks of those who can drink Dragon Fart without burning his guts.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her frustration; the way she bit her lip was cute. “Give it a month and you’ll get your name on the plaque, too.”
A plaque in the Drunken Filly, engraved with the names of all the regulars who were able to drink the Dragon Fart. An honor for many. In reality, not a very good drink. Elias preferred a good old ale.
“As if. That’s two levels for me. I don’t have the bonuses, you have Elias.”
“Imagine what Grey must have.”
“Yeah, even if she shoved all her stat points into her [Constitution] - which would be ass-stupid - the skills must boost her constitution by at least double.”
“Not so unusual, is it? Your strength . . .”
“Yes, yes, and your agility. Still . . . there’s something weird going on. You know, the way they came back from Fallen’s Cry, her and Palemoon. That BIG meeting that went on for half a day, all hush-hush. I’ve never seen the Captain so serious.”
“Is that what’s eating you? Or was it that she was more insistent than ever that we think about how we approach our skills?” The woman had been nagging them about it all morning during roll call.
“Yes. I mean, what else is there to think about, right? They’re skills. You pick the best one you can and train in what’s best for it.”
The old tried-and-true approach. Why risk something new when the old is still working well, right? Yet whether the likes of him liked it or not, Rayden showed them more than once how foolish that way of thinking was. He would be turning a blind eye to the truth if he pretended there was nothing to it. “You know yourself that the way I train with the sword is not ideal for you.”
“The whole fucking reason you have nine levels on me. If I hadn’t trained with you from the beginning . . . Anyway, I’m not blind. I can see that if I had a skill like [Golden Piss], the only thing I’d get from pissing standing up would be wet legs. What I don’t understand is how there can be more to it than that. Seriously, should I do it on all fours like a bitch, or stand on my head?”
Elias chuckled. Not only because of the funny image that came to his mind but also at the frustrated look on Brynn’s face.
“Stop grinning, you asshole!”
“Then stop giving me reasons to.”
“Whatever . . . you know, I don’t think the Captain told us everything.”
“As if she ever did.” That wasn’t his beef with their captain. On the contrary, Elias was perfectly fine with not knowing the ins and outs of dealing with the City Lord or the Big Meeting. All he needed to know were the things necessary to do his job well.
“Well, I don’t mind her forcing us to use our brains. If only . . . if only she’d told us more. You know, just a hint,” Brynn said, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Cause I’m at my wit’s end.”
“Why not try asking her?”
She paled visibly at the thought. “I tried once. She made me clean latrines for a month.”
“That’s because you bothered her with bullshit.”
“Hey, that . . .”
“Heads up, we have arrivals!”
“We’re not done yet,” Brynn grumbled, but like him, she kept her eyes on the road. A wagon pulled by two horses, a damned strange ox tied to a rope behind it, two people on a bench, maybe more inside. Merchants, by the looks of it.
***
“Brynn?”
“. . .”
“Brynn? Can you please stop whistling? It’s driving me crazy.”
“That’s the fucking point,” she barked back and continued louder.
“I’m sorry, all right?”
“For?”
“For? I don’t know. For whatever I said.”
“Traina’s tits! I didn’t ask Rayden any bullshit questions.”
“Oh, come on. Why else do you think she was disciplining you? That woman hardly ever does anything on a whim.”
“. . .” More of the loud whistling followed. If only she was in tune, but ‘Down the Creek’ in her take was awful.
Elias Pichler took a deep breath and tried to put the whistling out of his mind. Alas, unsuccessfully.
“You should stop listening to Vara.”
“What?” Brynn paused as Elias spoke out of the blue.
“She’s the one who made you ask the Captain if she had a thing with Lieutenant Blaine, isn’t she?”
“Hey, it was a valid concern. It would have had an impact on the whole City Guards.”
“Sure . . . head’s up!”
Training and duty kicked in, and she stood at attention, only to grit her teeth. “I swear, that ‘head’s up’ of yours . . . you’re so damn lucky today.”
Elias, however, felt just the opposite. Ever since the roll call, things had not been going as they should have . And the culprit, he believed, was now speeding down the road to the Esulmor Gate.
“Damn, not knowing it is her . . .”
“You’d shit your pants, I know.”
“Asshole.”
“Sweet. Just so you know, I would too. That’s a beast I wouldn’t want to fight.” Which was odd in itself. As far as he could see, she was a level 153 Deviant - whatever the heck that was - yet the feeling he got from her was that of a level 200 beast.
“Stop,” he held up a hand as Grey, accompanied by Deckard and the Imperial Agent - just as the night shift report had said - made their way over. The strength of these two men was astounding, levels far beyond the limits he could see. Only years of experience at the gate kept his voice from shaking. “Your plates, please, sirs, ma’am.”
“Elias, they are . . .”
It wasn’t that he didn’t care who was in front of him. Rather, when he couldn’t think of anything else to say, his brain fell back on what he was used to.
“It’s all right, Corporal Larmaze,” the Imperial Agent told Brynn. “Actually, it’s good to see that the standards are being upheld for everyone. Here’s mine.”
The Imperial Agent ID was a joke as far as Elias was concerned. No name, no level, nothing, just their crest and encrypted information for the Identification Station to crack and compare. It was then up to the guardsmen like him and Brynn to decide whether to blindly trust the magic tool and tuck their tails between their legs, or to be more vigilant.
On the other hand, according to what they were briefed on every year, the agent’s ID plate should disintegrate under the runes and enchantments woven into the metal plate if it was ever touched by anyone other than the agent himself. The reason Sah just presented his never letting it out of his hand.
When Elias held the Identification Station to the metal plate, it confirmed the agent’s identity.
“You’re good, thank you, sir.”
“May I?” Brynn beamed at him when it was Deckard’s turn. There was hardly anyone in the City Guards who hadn’t heard of the man, and most knew his face. After all, he had trained most of them when he was still a lieutenant. Elias was no exception. The man deserved the admiration, though he would have preferred Brynn to be more subtle about it.
“Sure,” he handed her over to the Identification Station to do the work. Her smile and her happiness were worth it. Besides, it might get her off his ass.
“All in order, you are clear, sir,” she sang as she handed Deckard his ID back. Then her eyes, and Elias’ as well, fell on the fox-like beast. Before their eyes, it transformed into a woman, simple clothes covering her in an instant.
“I still don’t have a new one,” Grey scratched the back of her head.
“New one?” Brynn wondered. “You mean you haven’t updated the information, right?”
“No, she literally needs a new one,” Deckard grinned, and Brynn’s cheeks visibly flushed. “Lost hers . . . in the Labyrinth.”
“Ah, word is out that you showed up at Fallen’s Cry armed with nothing but your wits . . . Sorry, I didn’t mean . . .”
“It’s okay.” Grey stopped Brynn. “It’s true.”
“If you lose your plate, you’re entitled to report it and have a new one issued,” Elias remarked somewhat automatically, whereupon Brynn rewarded him with a kick to the shin. Since he, like her, was wearing standard armor, her bare feet made it more painful for her than for him.
“Well, I reported it . . .”
“It wouldn’t do much good if they issued you a new one. Your details wouldn’t match anyway,” the Imperial Agent remarked, causing Elias to look at the woman again.
[Deviant: lvl 153]
Damn!
If he remembered correctly, and he was sure that he did, her level was only 148 last night at the Drunken Filly.
“Traiana’s tits, five freaking levels? How did I miss that?”
“So you see the problem, Corporal Larmaze.”
“I-I do, sir. But how? Is this what the Captain was talking about this morning? Is there really more to the skills that I am not seeing?”
“Corporal, that is . . .”
“Please, teach me, Grey,” Brynn dared to interrupt the Imperial Agent’s speech, much to Elias’ horror.
“Sir, she tends to get overzealous,” Elias quickly apologized, frowning at his friend. “Brynn, tone it down!”
“But Elias, look at her. Five levels in one night . . .”
“There must be a reason.”
“There is,” Grey nodded. “More than one, actually.”
“See.”
“I’m not stupid, but I just don’t see what the Captain wants us to see, do you?”
“. . .” Elias could only agree with her. Sure, it was only the morning she had told them to think more deeply about their skills - not really time to give it proper consideration, yet . . . “I’m sure the Captain will tell us more in time.”
“More like we will have to figure it out for ourselves, as always,” Brynn grumbled, her eyes fixed on Grey, pleading. “Please, I’m willing to pay you.”
That caught both Grey and him off guard. Brynn was not good at saving money. Instead, she tended to spend the coins within a few days of payday and then live off the scraps and his goodwill for the rest of the month.
“No - I mean . . .” stammered Grey. “I’m sorry, but . . .”
“Please. You know what the Captain meant, don’t you? I’m sure some other guys would be willing to take lessons from you.”
“That’s . . .”
“Actually, not such a bad idea, Grey,” the Imperial Agent interjected. “You and Palemoon are the ones with the most experience with the system and how it works.”
“What about Deckard?”
“He’s not a city guard anymore, you are.”
“But I never taught anyone. Plus the time it takes . . . I have so much to learn myself, don’t I, Deckard?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Little Beast. The agent has a point. Yes, I know, your combat training in your human form. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. You’re my apprentice. But there’s only so much I can teach you, and you can learn from me. If you want to be good, you need a bigger variety of opponents than me and at your level. Actually, I’ve been thinking about how to go about it, where to get them.”
“You didn’t think of my Squad?”
“There are only three of them - four if you count Palemoon. Besides, even they have to learn what the corporal here is so eager to learn.”
The truth of what Deckard said, the loss, was so easy to read in Grey’s body language. The slight movement of ears, wings, and tail, the clenched fists, and the soft wrinkling of her nose - no matter what they said, and he could see, in human form, she didn’t strike Elias as any different from a beast.
“Don’t we have other problems to deal with? Deckard? Sah?”
“I’ve been thinking about it on the way,and . . . By the way, did anyone suspicious come through the gate ahead of us, Sergeant?”
“Can you specify the suspect, sir?”
“Someone who would not seem to be who they are to you. Even if it is just a feeling on your part.”
The agent bastard couldn’t be more vague.
“Just a wagon of merchants. I can show you the papers, but nothing unusual, sir.”
“What are you talking about, Elias? They had a strange ox with them. Some rare breed from the East, they claimed. For sale.”
“An ox?”
“Yes, sir,” Brynn nodded, as if the animal was some great secret she had stumbled upon.
“Just an animal, sir,” Elias interjected, albeit hesitantly.
Nevertheless, interesting."
“Ehm . . . Sah?”
“Ah, sorry, Grey. I know. Like I said, I’ve been thinking about it, and as much as it rubs me the wrong way, and apparently it’s going to be pretty hard for me to do that, the best and safest approach will be to wait and see.”
“And for you, Little Beast, to stay true to yourself,” Deckard chimed in, only adding to Elias’ urge to ask what the heck the three of them were talking about. But he knew when to keep his mouth shut, unlike Brynn.
“Is this about the beasts in Esulmor? Are they as big as they say? Like a house? Anyway . . . please, Grey. I want to get stronger and kick this moron’s ass.”
“I-I don’t . . .”
“Not the most admirable reason, but a reason nonetheless.”
“As much as I hate it, I have to agree with you, Agent. It’s important to have motivation . . . it would be a shame to waste it, wouldn’t it, Little Beast?” When she growled in response and Deckard chuckled, the Imperial Agent took over. “In addition to training, I think you would benefit from understanding how to deal with people, how to lead them. Something you should learn, given your position, Guardian of Idleaf.”
Obviously not happy about it - and Elias fully understood the woman, having been forced to do things he didn’t like more than once in his life - she eventually dropped her wings in defeat. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
“YES!” Brynn beamed, taking a step closer to Grey. “When?”
“A little patience, Corporal,” Sah stopped her. “Something you could learn from your sergeant. Although he could use a little more of your enthusiasm.”
Elias sighed inwardly. “Yes, sir.” What was so bad about wanting things to stay the way they were?
“Anyway, I’ll put forward the suggestion of Grey teaching those who are willing to Captain Rayden. It’s her decision to make, Corporal.”
“Yes, sir,” she stood at attention and saluted enthusiastically, well aware of their captain’s attitude. The woman loved proactivity from her men so much, it wouldn’t surprise Elias if their first lesson with Grey was as early as tomorrow.
