“If you do not believe me, then this life, this existence, has no meaning. I give myself to you, as is the will of ,” she proclaimed, her gaze locked on mine. She pressed the dagger's point to her throat, drawing a single droplet of crimson blood. In that moment, the panicked cries of the guards faded into nothingness. The rest of the world ceased to exist. The space seemed to be occupied only by her, me, and the resounding truth of her declaration.
Was this a chance to get another NPC companion? I mentally rubbed my hands in glee. True, she had been a part of the attacking force, initially, but she had quickly changed her allegiance once she had seen my Holy Aura. On the other hand, this could be another of Avaria’s foul schemes… I would have to be careful. She seemed like she was a fanatic, and fanatics, in my opinion, always had a screw loose, but then again she did not look half-bad… at the very least I could be getting a magic item.
Some of the guards moved cautiously behind her. Even with the blade still at her throat, she swiveled around to face them, drawing me unwillingly with her. She shot them a deathly glare, eyes heavy with lethal warning, causing them all to visibly stiffen. The air grew tense. Seeking to avoid further conflict, I tried to defuse the situation, “If you truly believe me to be your lord, you will surrender your arms to these men, for the moment at least. I will see them returned to you later… once I have discussed the situation with the master of this caravan.” I hoped that my delivery did not betray the sense of unease that I felt.
“It will be as you command,” the woman warrior half-whispered in a voice full of awe and revelation, shivering at being given a direct command. She withdrew the dagger from her own throat, releasing my hands, and sheathed the long knife at her waist.
She was meek and unresisting now, and the guards were able to remove her weapons. They took the sword from her back scabbard, which was an ingenious thing, made from dark leather that opened three-quarters down its length at the side. This, no doubt, allowed the weapon within to be drawn and carried with ease even when sheathed at the back. A feat that would have been impossible with a normal scabbard. What was more incredible was the double-edged sword itself. It was just under a meter-and-a-half in length, with a cruciform hilt inscribed with a delicate gold runic pattern. The weapon's blade was fullered two-thirds down its length and tapered to a deadly tip. The metal of the blade was like that of fine watered steel.
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The caravan guards gave nods and longing sighs of appreciation at the weapon that was so perfectly matched to its bearer. So intrigued was I, that I decided to cast an Identify on the blade with the last dregs of my Mana.
Longsword ‘Weight of Justice’ [Magic]
Durability 999/999
Truly incredible! The first magic weapon I had seen in this game and within reach… I was almost salivating, thinking about getting my hands on such an elegant and deadly weapon.
The guards also relieved of her simple no-nonsense poniard, which drew a much less dramatic reaction. It was a relatively long dagger, about half-a-meter from pommel to deadly pointed pit with a bronze crossguard. An efficient tool for punching through the weak points in an armored opponent.
Plans were drawn, and lines of argument were made in my mind as we made our way to find Laes. He was there, in the center of it all, shouting orders at the top of his lungs and miraculously creating some measure of order from the chaos. The injured were gently loaded onto the wagons, their moans of pain a reassurance that they yet lived. The bodies of the caravan’s slain were wrapped in purple shrouds and moved respectfully, if not too hurriedly, onto different wagons. Their still forms were another reminder of the thing that chased my shadow. The voices within chittered their agreement even as the caravan master shouted out orders, seeing to the logistics of getting a village on wheels to move.
Khalam, the Guard Master, who was flanking me to my right, was a dour man of dark skin and middling height. He was stern in his commands and scowled often, when not deep in his cups. That same scowl was now plastered on his face as he addressed the caravan master.
“We have repelled the attackers, and have cut them down to a man,” Khalam almost spat, “No doubt they were in search of this one. The nerve of him, to launch the first arrow when we could have negotiated, as we have always done. What have you done, Laes? You endanger us all in this insanity. I have not seen war magic of its like outside the campaigns of my youth. If I had known that we had a Quas-trained mage among us…”