Ailleacht was a courier. The city’s fastest courier, as well. She was also recognized by the city guard as an honorary guard, which meant that she could take matters into her own hands when she witnessed a crime in progress.
This, of course, always meant fully body tackling people at around 15 miles an hour. Sometimes repeatedly. This lead to what essentially was an arms race between her, and the criminals that dwelled within the city. They’d wear body padding and enchantments to reduce the force of her tackles, and she got faster every time. 20, 25, 30, 35, 40, 50 mile an hour tackles, followed by various bubble enchantments and overly inflated padded clothes.
Sometimes, the criminals would be stopped on the way to the scene of the crime. The criminals eventually realized the reason they were stopped was that wearing all those enchantments and puffy clothes was as conspicuous as someone with bright burnt orange hair wandering around, asking for directions to the nearest smithy.
Somewhere, guarding a caravan, Victor sneezed.
Eventually, the criminal underbelly got better at hiding their activities, but not for a long while. Anyway, Ailleacht was called in to the City Guard HQ, in the center of the city, next to the Royal Palace.
“Ailleacht, do you know why we’ve called you here today?” The Guard Captain, Michael, asks, sitting at the table in the exact same room they were in nearly a month ago.
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“I’ve been doing such a good job, you want to promote me!” Ailleacht responds pridefully. The room goes silent for a minute before Michael responds.
“Fuck. That would’ve been a great excuse. I’ll need to write that down for next time.”
“Next time?” The honorary guard asks.
Michael takes out a scroll and flicks it open, the rolled part rolling off the table, across the floor, and partially up the wall. Ailleacht stares, impressed.
“This is every arrest report you’ve turned in to us this week, compiled,” Michael begins.
“It’s also every civilian complaint and rule infraction you’ve committed.” He continues, pointing several sections written in red ink.
“Several counts of destruction of private and public property, disturbing the peace, and being a general nuisance, not to mention-”
“Hey! That vendor was suspicious! Who even sells that many cabbages in a day? I was certain he was smuggling something in that cart of his!” Ailleacht interrupts the captain, standing up quickly.
“And what did you find?” Michael asked reproachfully.
“More cabbages.” Ailleacht grumpily admitted, sitting down and crossing her arms like an angsty teen.
“Exactly. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to let you off with a warning, and you, young lady, are going to tone down the destruction of property. Deal?” The Captain held out his hand.
“Deal!” Ailleacht grinned and shook it.