Lord Sarah Bennings has been the Director of Dorchester’s Central Tower of Law for almost 65 years. Yet, for her that was only a recent development. As a 356 year old woman, she’s been through many phases of her life, and this was only the most recent.
After coming from the city of Bennings, where her family still ruled, she sought to find her own way, and develop her own branch out in the wider world of Oglivarch. While working her way up through the Tower of Law, starting with a career as a lawbringer, all the way through a brief stint as a tribunal judge, she courted and married into the Masters family.
She and her husband, Kyle Masters, eventually founded their own house, taking the name Bennings as a tribute to her dignified history. As the head of the house, she directs the course for her children’s 4 branch houses, and all of House Bennings myriad endeavor across all of Dorchester.
Needless to say, she’s seen a great deal, and overcome countless personal challenges to achieve the success she currently enjoys. Though there have been periods of difficulty, for the most part, her life was turning out exactly as she had hoped. However, recent days have been troubling to the point of exhaustion.
Poorly thought out noble plots, assassination attempts on a new noble protected by the crown, legally grey business practices that required the over-site of the capital, a density shift promising beast tides of unprecedented size, and now formal petition to invoke the ‘unique service accords’ for one of the citizens of Dorchester.
She sat in her office, staring blankly at the hologram showing the petition in front of her with a pronounced frown on her face. She carefully reviewed the paperwork, checking the authenticity of the general’s psychic signature, and cross-referencing the first hand reports of eye witnesses. Everything seemed to be in order, and she saw no reason not to pass it along to Hennings.
With a sigh, she approved the petition for further review and closed out the file. Whatever happened now, was out of her hands.
Standing up, she went to pour herself a cup of tea while her thoughts worked through the various topics of immediate interest that plagued her daily schedule. There was just so much work to do, and so little time to do it in.
Approaching the large window in her office, she looked out onto the city and took a moment to appreciate how far she’d come. She idly thought of her husband, Kyle, sitting at home and painting, or maybe producing another one of his silly historical character profiles that he liked to upload onto the Thought-hub. ‘Perhaps one day, someone like Kyle will be making a character profile of Lord Walker. In a way, all of this change was heralded by his coming to Dorchester. Maybe like the other unique talents of history, he’ll earn a moniker of his own. What will they call him in a thousand years? Will the trials of his time in Dorchester even merit a mention in his saga? Of course all of this presupposes that the petition goes through, and the kingdom actually comes to collect him,’ she thought to herself with some amusement.
Sighing at the sight of the currently turbulent city, she couldn’t help but feel a little powerless with all that was happening. Yet, she knew she had to move forward, reaffirm her inner drive to carry on, or like many others, she’d fall to the perils of age-creep and fall off her path.
Squaring her shoulders, she released the tension on her face, reacquiring the blank expression she’d become known for. Once again in control, she turned around and returned to her seat. She had work to do, and this wasn’t the time to indulge in distractions.
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Nero still had many traits that carried over from his previous life on Earth. He hasn’t lost his appreciation for coffee and sweets. His penchant for causing trouble and screwing with people hasn’t dimmed in the least. Though he wasn’t nearly as lazy as he used to be, there were still echos of his preference for procrastination that were easy to see. But above all, the one trait he was glad had followed him through his reincarnation was his tendency to dream in the third person.
It wasn’t like he didn’t dream in the first person. He’d still occasionally have the standard flying dreams, or that one nightmare where his teeth started falling out. But, from time to time, he’d get to watch a mental movie where characters played out their scenes as if he were an observer watching them go about their day. Sometimes he’d see his favorite characters from television shows or animes going through absurd situations that brought nothing but joy when he woke up and recalled them.
One of his favorites was when he got a chance to see superheroes living their lives when they weren’t in the middle of a crisis. He once had a wonderful dream where he got to see Superman, in his Clark Kent persona, at the DMV. The poor guy was stuck in a line like everyone else, and had to listen to the two people next to him having a heated debate on whether or not Superman, as an alien, had the same genital shape that humans did.
When Nero had woken up after witnessing that hilarious episode of Dream-TV, he’d went out of his way to write down what he remembered from that dream, just so he wouldn’t forget anything when he posted it on his social media account.
Though that was just one dream he’d had, there were countless examples that provided Nero with endless sources of amusement and thought-provoking ideas. While he rarely remembered the details of these dreams, he always had a better chance at recalling the substance of the dreams when he was forcefully awakened by a third party. Like everybody else, dreams tend to linger in his head when he’s forced out of them.
So, it was with both happiness and annoyance when he felt his conscious mind being forced to the surface by someone forcefully shaking his feet.
The dream he’d been pulled out of was so engaging, he could still almost smell the lingering scent of ale and wine in the air as he lifted his head off his pillow. He’d just been enjoying watching several Dark elves planning some complicated plot to overthrow their local leader and assume control of… something… and the realization that he was back in his tent was so jarring that he felt like throwing something heavy at whoever had the balls to interrupt his sleep.
Opening his eyes and propping himself up on an elbow, he saw Nick’s worried face looking in from the tent opening.
“What?” Nero asked harshly.
Nick’s face looked worried, and apparently completely unaffected in the face of Nero’s wrath. “You’ve been in this tent for nearly 13 hours.”
Nero stared at his friend, neither of them saying anything for a good 5 seconds before Nero finally snapped. “And?” he demanded.
Nick replied easily, “I wanted to make sure you were alright. The battle must have been very difficult for you, and I wanted to make sure you were handling it well. Were you having trouble getting to sleep?”
Nero offered Nick a blank look in response to his concern. While he was happy the old man seemed to care enough to check on him, having his pleasant and interesting dream interrupted had put him in a foul mood. “I slept fine. The kobalds were barely a challenge when you think about it. I mean, seriously, did we even lose anybody? We obliterated them by the truckload. I think you are all over-reacting. Now go away, I’m going back to bed,” he said, then resolutely punched his pillow and laid back down.
Nick sighed and replied, “Nero, you need to get up. We have some things to talk about that can’t wait. Are you hungry?”
Lifting his head a little, Nero narrowed his eyes and asked, “Is there anything other than that chunky gruel we’ve been eating?”
Nick chuckled at how much Nero seemed to dislike standard rations and replied, “Sorry, Nero. That ‘chunky gruel’ is the standard fare for soldiers in the field. You’re just going to have to learn to like it.”
Scoffing, Nero rolled over so he was staring at the tent’s ceiling and replied, “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Give me twenty minutes. I’ll join you in a bit. That is unless you wanna come in and share this tent with me while I eat some leftovers.”
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Nick raised an eyebrow in surprise, and asked, “You have leftovers? Any of it from when we ate at the Verena estate?”
Nero smiled, lifted his head to look at Nick and replied, “Yeah… I even stole a few of your plates and silverware.”
Giving Nero a look that hovered between disappointment and anger, Nick ducked down and entered the small tent.
Snickering at the sight, Nero sat up to make room and muttered, “Who’d have thought my first guest in here would be an old man who was interested in my goods.”
Nick’s brow furrowed even further and quipped, “What do you mean ‘your’ goods. The only thing we’re having is ‘my’ goods.”
Nero raised his eyebrows and held a hand to his chest as if he were shocked to hear what Nick was saying. “You keep your good away from me old man, or I’ll tell Vera on you!”
Nick’s anger evaporated into confusion, as he tried to understand what Nero was talking about. Suddenly his eyes widened in understanding, and his glare returned full-force. “Nero, your not nearly as funny as you think you are. Just give me whatever food you stole from my house and shut the hell up for a bit.”
Once again snickering, Nero reached into his personal space and started pulling out some of the food he’d stolen from the time he’d had dinner at Nick’s estate. There wasn’t a lot of room in the tent, but there was enough to enjoy an impromptu feast they both enjoyed immensely.
While chomping down on something that resembled a drum-stick, Nero looked up at a hovering essence light and thought to himself, ‘This is the life. Out on an adventure, hiding in a magically built cave, beset on all sides by monsters and enemies, surrounded by friends and allies sharing a common purpose, with magic providing good food and fantasy inspired ambiance.’
While Nero was enjoying his meal, Nick ruined the moment by saying in his most serious tone, “Nero, there really is something we need to talk about.”
Giving Nick his best look of annoyance, he set down his drumstick and took a large swig from his canteen. “Fine. What is so important that you needed interrupt my sleep and ruin what was, for a very brief moment, a good meal among friends?”
Setting his plate gently down onto the tent floor, Nick locked eyes with Nero and said, “Due to what you revealed to Captain Angelton and the sergeants, some things have been set into motion that can’t be undone. There is still a lot you don’t understand about the culture here, and some of that, I think, is my fault. I haven’t been very successful at getting you to care about anything other than magic. Now, we’re going to have to deal with that oversight.”
Nero wasn’t following, so he asked, “What are you trying to say, Nick?”
With his face looking like he was pronouncing something important, Nick replied, “Captain Angelton has formally requested you be listed as a ‘unique’ citizen in the records.”
Nero wasn’t a complete idiot, so he figure it had something to do with his ‘shocking’ ability to perceive the ether in a way other people couldn’t. However, he didn’t think it was worth Nick getting all worked up over.
Shrugging a bit, Nero returned to his meal and said, “OK. So is that more of less annoying than the new noble thing? Or is it like the ‘exploit’ thing and I’m looking at some kind of reward for being awesome?”
Nick was surprised Nero was reacting so calmly about the situation, but he reminded himself that Nero had no idea what any of this meant, so he really shouldn’t have been.
“I’ll try and put this as simply as I can. While new nobles and exploits all fall within the typical governing systems within the kingdom, unique citizens are a completely different class of citizenry. They can be nobles, commoners, royalty, it doesn’t matter. The only requirement to be a unique citizen is that the person has a skill or ability that is so powerful or useful that they are considered an irreplaceable assert to the kingdom as a whole. Do you understand?” asked Nick.
Nero nodded, and replied, “Yup. I’m guessing it’s about the portal thing you mentioned when we were closing that spawn point, right? Since I can manipulate portals and stuff, I’m probably pretty useful for all kinds of stuff like that. So, do I get some sort of benefit or something? Or am I going to be forcibly enlisted in some kind of secret group and sent off on missions at the behest of a cabal of powerful nobles that will abuse my gifts until I manage to free myself from their control and wipe them and their families out in some kind of elaborate revenge plan?”
Nick frowned, unhappy that Nero didn’t seem to be taking this seriously. “Nero, being categorized as a unique citizen means you have to be presented to the throne and tied to the ruling family as a branch house. You’re immediately a noble, and your status as a new noble no longer applies. This is a VERY big deal. I need you to understand this, and take it seriously.”
Nero sighed at Nick’s pleading and replied, “Look man, I get it. But from what you’re saying, nothing is really changing. I was a new noble, under the protection of the royal family. Now I’m a unique noble, under the exact same protection. And, I have to the capital and meet the King? So what? I had to already do that because of the exploit thing, right? So really, what’s changed?”
Nick sat in silence for a minute, trying to process things from Nero’s point of view. In a way, Nero was right. For him, nothing serious has changed. If anything, this simplifies a lot of the problems he had been dealing with. The noble trials no longer apply, so he would no longer have to be an elite if he didn’t want to be. He wouldn’t have to marry on a time limit, or sire any children any time soon. In fact, from Nero’s perspective, this is all probably good news.
Nero grinned at Nick’s confused face. Watching the man try and work out how to explain something Nero was obviously missing was pretty funny. Though Nero didn’t understand the specifics, he could tell that being a ‘unique’ citizen wasn’t something he should take lightly, but he felt it couldn’t be any more troublesome than suddenly being a noble, or being enlisted in the army. Since the moment he’d shown up in Dorchester, he’d been going with the flow, and he didn’t see how being a ‘unique’ citizen was going to change that going forward.
Figuring he’d give the man a break, Nero asked a question he’d knew Nick would have a prepared lecture for, “Hey Nick, tell me a little bit about what a ‘unique’ citizen is, and if you could, give a few examples.”
Nick’s face shook a little as he was knocked out of his train of thought. Meeting Nero’s inquisitive eyes, he felt the world making a little more sense than it did a few seconds ago. He knew the answer to the young man’s question, and it didn’t require any kind of philosophical mental gymnastics.
Coughing lightly into his hand to clear his throat, Nick began his lecture, “Unique citizens are people with skills or abilities that are so uncommon, so profoundly useful, that they are protected and nurtured by the kingdom as a whole. As there are so few of them, it isn’t something most people pay attention to. There are, however, plenty of historical examples that come to mind that might give you a better idea of what class you have joined.
“In the city of Beverign there is a woman known as ‘The Siren’. Her unique ability comes from a mutation dating back to her family’s dalliances with the water-folk. Whether it is due to inter-breeding or some kind of ritual, her family has always had a close relationship with water. They were merchants and sailors. When she was just a young girl, it was discovered that her voice had the ability to alter the essence fields around her. To put it another way, she is able to naturally imbue her own essence into her voice to provoke an effect on the world around her. Should she desire the weather to change, she can ask the sky to clear. It is said that she can even overcome a person’s will and command them to do her bidding. Luckily, she was discovered before she allowed the power to go to her head, and the royal family took over her education and directed her to use her gift for the common good.
“Another example is the famous “Astrologician’. I don’t recall ever reading about where he came from, however he currently travels all across Oglivarch looking into planar ruins and histories so that he can add to the knowledge base of the kingdom. His unique ability is to look into an area’s past as if he were scrying it. From what I understand, it has something to do with light and time, but I didn’t really focus much on that topic in my studies. I know it sounds a lot like delving, but it’s not. Regardless, it’s an incredibly powerful ability and essential for studying the ruins that appear in the wilds.
“When I was a young boy, one of my favorite uniques to read about was “The Shaper”! He’s been around for hundreds of years, and I think he still lives somewhere in Norwalkin. Anyway, he has the amazing ability to take material objects and alter their identities as if he were simply enchanting the essence that makes up their very core. He can take a simple stick and ‘shape’ it into a bow that nobles from tier 5 cities would sell their heirs to acquire. The stories of his travels where he would aid promising heroes in their various quests was always a wonderful way to pass the time between my studies,” Nick finished, his face full of longing for a simpler time.
Nero listened closely to what Nick was saying, surprised to hear about sounded like ‘heroes’ from the stories he’d heard back home. He could almost picture the green-haired beauty known as the Siren, and see her calmly controlling her city from within her sea-side tower. The astrologician was obviously a rugged archaeologist, delving into ruins and living a life both in the past and the present. But ‘The Shaper’ was understandably the most interesting. He sounded like Merlin, going around and inspiring legends wherever he went.
Nero finished cleaning his plate with the last of the bread, then put away the plate into his personal space without bothering to clean it. Looking up, he could see Nick lost in thought about his childhood love of ‘The Shaper’s’ stories. Nero decided to give him a minute, and didn’t interrupt his moment of nostalgia.
‘So I guess my ability to see what’s really going on in the ether is going to earn me some sort of nickname. Hopefully it’s not “The Perceiver”, or “The Eye”. I wonder how they choose the names. If they bother to ask me… I’m gonna go with “The GOAT”. Considering that no one in this world would get the reference, and that stories may eventually make it into the annuls of the kingdom, all of them referring to the adventures of ‘The Goat’, I’ll be able to laugh at that well into whatever after-life I eventually stumble into,’ he thought to himself with a smile.
Nick’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, “Well Nero, that’s more or less what a unique citizen is. The details, of course, are a little more complicated. However, in a way, you’re right. Not much will probably change for you, other than how people may start treating you. Considering that you already think you’re more special than you are, I doubt you’ll notice much of a difference. Anyway, if you’re done eating, we should go speak with the Captain. I’m sure he has orders for you. Perhaps you’ll be heading back to Dorchester. For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle whatever challenges you’ll face in the future.”
Nero looked at Nick in confusion, “Why are you talking like we’re not going to be facing it together. You’re my elderly, decrepit, wisdom-toting mentor. Wherever I go, you go, and Vera is in charge of our loot. So, keep your wits about you and keep up. We’ve got shitty nobles to deal with, lizards to massacre, cities to save, and magic to explore.” As Nero was talking, he stood up and kicked Nick to get the old man moving.
Smiling at his young friend, Nick followed him out of the tent and muttered, “Right you are Lord Walker. Let’s see what today has in store for us.”