Returning to the hall, I approached the counter with a calm, slightly relaxed step and, as if it were some insignificant trifle, laid a small ingot of valirium on the tabletop - the one which had started the whole fuss.
"Umm..." Loradara hesitated, biting her lip, "I hope they're alive and relatively well over there?" She nodded towards the room.
Dramatically stowing away the Brooch of Nobility into my pouch, I flashed a friendly smile at the female steward:
"I managed to persuade them." I brushed it off as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Pass the ingot on to the local team, but make sure to take gold from them equivalent to the share of the newcomers."
"We will." Arnim nodded with evident relief on his face. "Thank you, Om Raven; I thought I'd have to listen to their squabbling until the end of my shift."
"Just Raven," I shrugged, "my brooch isn't hereditary; I earned it. So, I'm not comfortable being addressed like that until I reach the Precious coil."
"You've only recently Elevated," the duty officer replied with a hint of relief, "and it's not that simple to pass the First Wall..." He sighed heavily, "I couldn't do it."
His words suggested that Arnim had accumulated enough core growth energy for Elevation but failed to adapt his body to higher energy levels. Hence, apparently, he was stuck at Wootz. His situation is quite common in Ain. Far from everyone manages to overcome the First Wall.
Pouring himself some wine, Arnim raised his mug and, winking at me, toasted:
"To you overcoming the First Wall."
"I'll drink to that." I nodded at my empty mug, waited for the duty official to fill it, and downed it in one go. "No, Arnim, sorry, but it's not for me. This wine is too cloying."
"I happen to like sweet." As soon as he said this, his companion snorted loudly, took the ingot of valirium from the counter, and headed towards the local team of tunnellers.
"Please," I leaned over the counter towards the on-duty official, "don't disturb the newcomers. They need to discuss and think things over. When they've settled things among themselves, they'll come out on their own. And order them some simple food, but no alcohol." I placed a silver coin in front of me.
"We will." The coin disappeared from the counter as if by magic, so swift was the movement of the Wootz warrior. "Are you staying with us for long?"
"No, I'm leaving now. Just stopped by to renew the Sign."
Saying this, as if to prove my words, I touched the Book. As soon as I did, a thought-phrase resounded in my mind:
"Raven Alexandrite, as the first of your people with a motto recorded on my Pages, in Light and Darkness, in Shadow and Morning Dawn, are you ready to accept the Sign of Sheriff of the Sortudo people?"
The offer from the Divine Artifact left me, to put it mildly, flustered. Yes, I'd heard bard songs about instances when the Book displayed a semblance of free will and choice, but I'd dismissed them as mere fabrications and tales. Turns out they weren't fabrications, and they weren't tales. As I stood there, frozen in surprise, the entire situation with the dispute between the local tunnellers and earthlings quickly played out before my eyes. And the way I resolved that situation must have pleased the Book.
In the Last Cycle, among the earthlings, the first to earn the motto, if I remember correctly, was Nate. But he, to put it mildly, held a cold, even slightly disdainful attitude towards the tunnellers, thinking of them as not warriors but those who turned away from the warrior's path for the sake of profit. Nate definitely received no offers from the Book. Because, otherwise, knowing how he loves to boast about his achievements and feats, he would never have forgotten to mention this detail.
The Book's offer was very intriguing. Essentially, accepting it made me an extraterritorial sheriff, not bound to any particular region, city, or kingdom. And it endowed me with the right to pass judgment in situations involving sortudo, either on one or both sides. Yes, it was a somewhat limited right. The verdicts of local sheriffs or the local court held higher priority over the judgments of a people's sheriff, but still, it was a very tempting proposition.
Tempting? What am I even thinking? What's there to think about?
"Agreed!" I can barely stop myself from shouting it out loud.
"I vow to uphold the Ordinances."
"I vow to uphold the Ordinances," I obediently echoed the Book in my thoughts.
"I vow to judge fairly."
"I vow to judge fairly," my thoughts resonate.
"And the Word will not cloud the Essence for me."
"And the Word will not cloud the Essence for me."
"In the name of Ishid and with His blessing!"
"In the name of Ishid and with His blessing!"
My palm lay on the Book as if it was glued to it. Some strange energy, unlike either mana or prana, much more "pure," ran through my body as the Book's last words resonated. It went from my fingertips to my chest, altering my Tunneller's Sign. This Sign remained recognizable, yet at the same time, it began to resemble a Sheriff's Star, as an image of the half-opened Ishid's Scroll appeared in its center. As soon as this change concluded, I felt I could lift my palm from the page.
"Huh?"
All this time, Arnim had been watching me, naturally not hearing my dialogue with the Book but clearly sensing that something was happening. Now, his saucer-like eyes examined my changed Tunneller's Sign. The gray-haired warrior lifted a bottle, looked at it carefully, and then rubbed his eyes with rural straightforwardness. He leaned back in his chair and whispered:
"Sheriff of the Book..."
"In the name of Ishid and with His blessing." For some reason, I repeated the final line of the oath.
"I've settled matters with Botar's crew; I'll send the payment to the newcomers," said Lordara, returning at that moment. She glanced at her partner, who seemed to be in shock, slapped her thigh, and exclaimed, "So, you've finally drunk yourself into a stupor, huh? Just my luck to be stuck on a shift with a drunkard like you!"
Instead of defending himself, Arnim simply pointed at my chest without any sense of decorum.
"Look. Hic..."
The branch's female on-duty official reluctantly looked at me and froze as if turned to stone.
"Lordara, you see it too, right?" Arnim quietly asked her.
"Yeah..." was all his partner could muster.
"It's the first time I've seen such a thing in my life," said the Wootz warrior.
"No wonder it's the first time!" Apparently, Lordara's nerves were stronger, and she recovered much faster. "If I remember the bard's songs correctly, the last time such a... such a..."
She clearly tried to find the right word, but it seemed to slip from her mind, so I helped:
"Appointment."
"Yes! Such an appointment," she immediately continued, "was over three centuries ago." She looked at her partner and added, "And no matter how old and decrepit you might be, you're definitely younger than three hundred!" Then she turned back to me, bowing deeply in a gesture filled with sincere respect, "Sheriff of the Book..."
Damn! I had just considered staying in this town a bit longer. Not just to restock but to learn new techniques and magic. Being Wootz now, my skill set seems rather lacking for my rank. I need to get at least a couple of Metal spells, master the Direct Lightning, and expand my "assortment" of Auras. But it seems those plans aren't meant to be for now. If I linger here, rumors of the Sheriff of the Book will spread like wildfire, drawing the attention of those in power. The count would most likely want to invite me over. After all, I'm quite the exotic figure. And refusing might lead to some nasty consequences. Meaning, I should be "making tracks" out of here right now. Not just "should," but rather, I must. Unless I want to waste a few days or even get dragged into local politics.
"Ahem. Esteemed Arnim, Lordara," I gave a brief nod to the on-duty personnel, "I apologize, but the Sundbad's path waits for no one."
"We understand, Sheriff of the Book Raven Alexandrite," the woman replied on behalf of both, bowing again.
"May Ishid's wisdom illuminate you," I stated and sharply turned on my heels in a military fashion.
"May His blessing be upon you," Lordara bid me farewell.
Botar's group of tunnellers was so engrossed in their discussion that they missed all the excitement. To my relief, none of them noticed my Altered Sign.
I quickly crossed the hall and stepped outside, then walked across the square and into the familiar tavern, where I collected what they had prepared for me. Apologizing for not being able to wait for the remaining dishes, I grabbed the incomplete basket, paid, and hurried back onto the street.
Then, after taking off the Sign of the Tunneller, I crossed the entire city and exited through its southern gate. After which, as soon as I was about one to two kilometers away from the city walls, I sharply accelerated into a run. Maintaining a speed of about thirty kilometers an hour, I ran for about thirty minutes, then slowed down to my regular pace.
Wow! My fiftieth day in Ain was certainly quite remarkable. Yet, at dawn, there was no sign of what was to come. The day began, at least, quite ordinarily, and now it's not even noon, and so much has already happened. Of course, two events are not that many, but that's only if you look at the raw numbers. I must admit, the appointment made by the Book was a real shock to me. I had never even tried on the role of sheriff. And neither had I ever thought about such a twist, but here you go! "Take it while they offer." Well, I did. I wonder how many times I will regret my choice? I had no doubts that I would eventually regret it.
I was also very lucky that the Affinity with the Law didn't come "attached" to this Position. I don't even know what I would have done then. Light plus Law – this combination paves a direct path to paladins! And the worst thing is that because you take the Power of Affinity into yourself, it affects your very soul. I don't even want to think about how it would have changed me. It's entirely possible that all the alternative paths, tinged with a gray morality, would have ultimately been closed to me. And that's bad because preparing people for the Invasion "without taking off white gloves," I think, won't work. Which means I would have had to go against the Affinity with the Law, and I don't even want to imagine what that would lead to for me.
What's curious, I received no Achievement for accepting the position of sheriff, more so from a Divine Artifact. Apparently, the Position itself was recognized as an Achievement; nothing else could explain this to me. I think that's the case. Because Achievements in Ain are manifestations of your actions and deeds. And in this case, the modified Sign of the Tunnellers' Guild served as a clear, visible manifestation of the position, so there was no "need" for an Achievement as such. This is a bit disappointing because I "missed out" on the core growth energy.
I wonder if I can become the first earthling to achieve Elevation to the Precious coil? As soon as I posed that question to myself, I immediately realized that, most likely, no, I won't be able to. If my "memory of the future" didn't deceive me about Arien's intellect, then, with the hints I've provided, she will conduct the Magevra' Ritual much earlier than in the Last Cycle and undergo Elevation before me. Yes, when we parted, she was at Steel, and I was at Wootz, but I don't think she lags far behind me. Moreover, one shouldn't discount the other Shards. Perhaps Nate, Katashi, or even Dice have already reached Wootz and are rapidly approaching the First Wall. Due to my change in plans, I won't be heading to Pentapolis anytime soon, which means my progression through the ranks will likely slow down significantly. But for now, thanks to the Metal Elevation pills and "Catalyst" Achievement of Adamantium rank, I'm leading the pack. My goal is to leverage this advantage to its fullest. I need to progress not only in ranks but also hone my skills, learn new abilities and magic. I'll prioritize this for the time being.
Of course, I wasn't just running; I continued my training: auras, Illusion magic, meditative techniques, spear training on the move. I put everything into it, but it still felt insufficient. Ultimately, in the second hour of my run, I made up my mind and invested the accelerated learning bonus from the "Movement Against" Achievement into Mental magic. As for the Understanding of Runes, I'll address that problem when it becomes more relevant. As they say, "You eat an elephant bit by bit." I have to do what I can and deal with future problems when they arise.
For the second time today, I pondered the limited range of my magical skills and techniques. I definitely need to address this soon. What exacerbates the issue is that it's not enough to learn a technique or spell; you need to get accustomed to it and practice its application.
Initially, I was supposed to be in Deytran by now, where finding teachers would have been relatively easy. But fate had other plans - there was a portal malfunction, and instead of Pentapolis, I ended up in this region. Of course, my "memory of the future" held a vague understanding of the principles behind many spells, but these were very hazy and general knowledge. On this basis, I could try to create something of my own. But there was a high probability that this "own" thing would end up being weaker, more energy-consuming, and not as convenient to use as the local counterparts, tested by hundreds of years of practice. Moreover, to develop genuinely unique spells, one needs a particular mindset and a truly vast amount of time. Among the earthlings, there were several groups of talented scientists who dedicated themselves to this cause, but the fruits of their labor would only become apparent and noticeable close to the Invasion. One such group included Justius Avogadro, whom I met at the Tunnellers' Guild branch. If memory serves, he specialized in communication magic and the development of artifacts on this topic. His two companions were unfamiliar to me. Perhaps in the Last Cycle, they died earlier or simply vanished in the expanses of Ain. I would have definitely remembered one called Jacob Dalton, as his scientific specialization matched Arien's work back on Earth. I'm sure that if this young man had lived until the Invasion, he would not have missed the guild of the future Goddess of Spontaneous Magic. I vividly remembered how his eyes lit up when I mentioned Arien's earthly name. The guy, a former lab assistant at MIT, had clearly read and studied Ariel Marchal's works and held high respect for her.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
As soon as I realized that, the conversation with the three stubborn earthlings was entirely under my control. First, I outlined the possible consequences if they continued with their stubbornness. I hinted at the count's trial and what the likely verdict of that court would be. Not only would they lose "their treasure," but they'd also face hefty fines and, at best, be stripped clean as if caught stealing or even get a significant sentence in the local jail. Then I informed them that valirium, while rare and quite expensive, isn't unique. With enough money, it can be purchased in quantities sufficient for any experiments. I also enlightened these science fanatics about the basic properties of valirium, avalonium, and other magical metals. I did this so that if they wished to continue their research, they wouldn't waste time on things any local already knows. All three, by the way, took my words with skepticism, asserting that they should first verify the information that came from the locals. Who knows in what misconceptions the local population lives! They managed to convince me of this after Justius cited the story of Aristotle and the fly[1]. I had no counter to that, so I agreed with them.
However, allowing them to convince me of their correctness once, from then on, I didn't let the thread of the conversation slip from my grasp. I recounted a few stories from the life of Ain and dropped them a couple of blatant hints. I described the proven properties of the magical metals from the Last Cycle that I knew of. After which, I not only offered them a solution to their dispute with the local tunnellers but also informed them about Arien, stating that she was also in Ain and even not too far from them. In addition, I told them about the guild she had founded and how she was in search of talented mages who could use their head properly. Knowing Arien well, I assumed she would not only welcome them into the Ainuminati ranks but would also provide these young men with any research material - within reason, of course. What's more, with her influence and noble status, she would protect these three scholars from the whims of local authorities.
It was clear that Jacob Dalton was on my side as soon as he heard about Arien, but the other two earthlings took some persuading. Still, it wasn't particularly difficult. Justius was lured by Arien's resources, while the third earthling, who introduced himself as Iv Libih, agreed after I described the influence and authority Arien held in Katiyer. In the end, everything was resolved for mutual benefit. The guys handed over the valirium to me with the promise that its worth in gold would be returned to them. They also agreed to consider my suggestion to join the Ainuminati. As I had no doubts about their final decision, I left them the room keys, saying they could stay and argue here for a whole day since the room was already paid for. As a farewell, I asked them to send Arien my regards. Jacob immediately nodded, making it clear to me that whatever the decision of the others, he would definitely head to Katiyer.
It's simply astonishing that for resolving such a straightforward conflict, the Book endowed me with the authority of a Sheriff. Perhaps this had to do with the increasing number of earthlings registering with the Tunnellers' Guild every day, who needed their representative in contentious situations? I believe the latter reason is more plausible. The fact that I settled the dispute quickly and to everyone's advantage merely tipped the Book's choice in my favor.
Although, according to the young servant boy, the distance from the city to the Ridge of Stone Monsters was no more than sixty kilometers, it was almost four in the afternoon, and I couldn't see any cliffs on the horizon. Either the boy was mistaken, or he meant the straight-line distance, but the road was winding all the time. In any case, I've been running for more than a day in total, not counting the short break in Erol, and it has started to take its toll. No, my body wasn't tired, but my mind felt slightly foggy, and my thoughts tumbled around like sleepy walruses on a sunny shore. Because of this, the effectiveness of my on-the-go training had significantly decreased. If I managed to practice with my spear and the "Discharge" spell, my Illusion and Mental skills were faring much worse. Meditation made me drowsy, and the drawings created on my body using Illusion magic kept blurring, losing clarity. So, noticing an inn at the next crossroads, I slowed to a walk and, turning off the road, headed towards it.
Despite sunset being at least three hours away, one of the caravans had already stopped here. Getting closer, I understood the reason for their stoppage. One of the caravan's wagons had a broken axle. Apparently, the merchants decided to spend the night here while the repairs were being made and set off again before dawn.
I swiftly opened the door and confidently stepped into the not-so-large hall of the inn. In addition to a dozen merchants and their guards, some tunnellers of the iron rank also sat inside. Most likely, the local group of six. At least they communicated informally with each other, and the young servant girls clearly knew them. The inn's staff were apparently overwhelmed. It seemed that large trade caravans like this didn't often stop here. The two maids and the owner were literally tearing themselves apart trying to serve everyone, and from the kitchen came angry female shouts urging someone on.
Despite his busyness, the innkeeper, noticing me, immediately returned to the counter. By my Sign, he quickly identified my rank, though he couldn't discern the meaning of the stylized image of a half-open scroll on it. But these were mere trifles.
"I need a room," I briefly commanded, laying down a silver coin and pressing it against the counter with my palm.
"I apologize, sir, but there's only one room left, and it's far from the best," the graying man with a stubby beard responded, glancing around.
"It doesn't matter," I shrugged, indicating that I didn't care what kind of room I got. "The key."
"Yes, sir, of course, sir."
The innkeeper bustled about, and I was glad I hadn't pinned the noble's brooch to my chest; he'd probably have lost his mind if I had. Receiving the hefty key, I snapped my fingers to get his attention:
"Also, wake me up two hours after sunset and bring me a bucket of warm water, a basin, and some hot tea at the same time. Do not disturb me at any other time."
"Yes, sir," the man nodded, and, whistling softly, he caught the attention of one of the serving girls and ordered her to escort me.
The room I got was indeed far from luxurious. But to my delight, it was clean. The spartan furnishing of a roughly constructed bed, a single stool, and a crudely made nightstand didn't matter to me, and I didn't pay much attention to it. After storing my belongings, I secured the door with the nightstand, set my spear at the head of the bed, took off my boots, and fell onto the bed as hard as my life. Closing my eyes, I immediately relaxed, went through a brief breathing exercise familiar to me from my athletic days, and drifted off to sleep.
The innkeeper remembered everything correctly, and a young maid woke me up, also bringing a bucket of warm water and a basin for washing. She then went down to the kitchen and brought me tea. Noticing that I was already washing my feet, the girl offered to help with a hint at spending the night for a small reward, but I declined, simply sending her away. After the night I spent with Arien, I wasn't too interested in intimate pleasures, even with young, reasonably attractive village girls.
After freshening up, I pondered whether to continue traveling at night or wait for dawn. My doubts were dispelled by the clear sky and the brightly shining Seguna. Such illumination would be sufficient to avoid tripping over the uneven roads. Besides, I felt completely rested, so there was no point in wasting time. Packing my belongings, I descended without any rush.
At this already late hour, the hall wasn't very crowded. Most caravaners had dispersed to their rooms, and only two tables were occupied. One was in a corner, where two guards were getting openly drunk, and the other, the largest one, was still taken by the local tunnellers. However, another person had joined them, who now sat with his head resting on folded hands. Approaching the counter, I knocked with a large and crude key, drawing the owner's attention. When he turned around, I demanded:
"Pack me some food for the road."
"I'm sorry, sir, but all the food stocks were... consumed by other patrons." He leaned over to one of the drawers and continued from there. "I've sent for more supplies, but they'll only be brought by dawn. If you could wait..."
"I won't wait," I interjected.
"Then all that's left is this..." And the innkeeper laid a three-kilogram cheese wheel on the counter. "However, this is expensive cheese," he added, avoiding my gaze.
"How much?"
"Five silvers."
"I'll take it." I swiftly tossed the cheese into my bag and immediately paid. "I follow Sundbad's path, and it leads me to the Ridge of Stone Monsters. I've heard it's nearby?"
"Yes, sir, about twelve miles to the southwest, beyond the hills. That's if you take the direct route on the abandoned road. But you'd be better off not following that road to the end. Turn off about halfway."
"Why?"
"The abandoned road leads to the ruins of the city of Belgran." He pronounced this name as if it pained him.
"Belgran? Never heard of it."
And it was true. The one who had told the past "me" about the Ridge of Stone Monsters didn't mention any ruins. Apparently, he didn't deem it necessary. The innkeeper leaned over the counter and whispered:
"They say that before the Fall," the man spoke with a slight catch in his breath, "the residents of Belgran angered Eyrat the Righteously Punishing with their pacifism and luxury." He was clearly paraphrasing the words of some bard, "and Eyrat unleashed his wrath upon the city. Since then, only ruins remain. And at night, especially on a moonlit one like tonight, if you approach the ruins, you can hear the howling of unrested souls." He pulled back a little and continued, "We, the locals, avoid going there and advise others to do the same. Even the priests try to steer clear of Belgran's ruins. My father told me that in his youth, a group of Paladins entered Belgran! But even after they left, the howls of the restless souls persisted. The year before last, our miller's son, young and foolish, on a dare, spent a night near the ruins... He came back with gray hair at just seventeen winters! And he never spoke of what he saw or heard." The innkeeper took a step back and concluded, "So, if sir's path leads to the Ridge of Stone Monsters, you'd do well to take a slight detour and avoid the ruins."
"I heard you," I nodded, keeping my composure. Naturally, I didn't tell him that his story only piqued my curiosity. "What are the tunnellers arguing about at the table?" I asked, noting that the conversation at that table had indeed become heated.
"Don't mind them, sir. Master Gulie's team always bickers, but don't get the wrong idea. They're quite friendly and never cause any trouble. Disputes among people working in the same group are pretty standard."
"Standard," I agreed, nodding. "I'll go greet them; it would be impolite not to."
In reality, I wanted to learn about the local dungeons, and who better to provide this information than the tunnellers? Approaching the large table, I stopped a step away and got their attention:
"Esteemed fellow tunnellers," when the passionately whispering locals turned to me, I continued, "Could you share some knowledge about these parts with a traveler guided by Sundbad?"
The Iron tunnellers all stood up and bowed to me before sitting back down. One of them, the one the innkeeper referred to as Gulie, pulled out an empty chair for me and gestured for me to sit.
"Raven from Seattle," I introduced myself as informally as possible and listened to the others' introductions.
Everyone presented themselves except for one man who sat with his head in his hands. He appeared to be completely drunk and seemed not to notice the guest at the table.
Ah, no. He did notice.
He raised his head, shook himself off, and looked at me with clear, completely sober eyes, but they also bore a look of exhaustion and weariness. A sheriff's badge lay on his chest over his gambeson. He was about to say something, but then his gaze fell on my Tunneller's Sign. His eyes took on a diamond-like shape, and his mouth opened in surprise. He suddenly jumped to his feet, knocking over the chair he was sitting on, and bowed deeply.
"Sheriff of the Book..." He whispered loudly.
As soon as he said this, the other tunnelers also noticed my unique guild Sign and, once again jumping to their feet, bowed waist-deep and stood in respectful silence.
"There's no need for that," I grimaced. "Sit down and don't pay attention to my Sign; I'm off duty."
"I've never seen..." The young female tunneller, who introduced herself as Ribata, murmured without taking her eyes off my chest. She instantly received a hefty slap from Gulie and fell silent in shame.
"Tell me, are there any Wootz dungeons around here?" To avoid the awkwardness, I hastily shifted the conversation to a professional topic.
It turned out that there were such dungeons. Two of them. But, according to the tunnelers, they had been cleared out recently, and if I wanted to visit them, I'd have to wait at least five days. That did not suit me. Without touching on the topic of abandoned ruins, I got all the information I wanted. I was about to stand up and say my goodbyes when the local sheriff, a warrior-mage of Steel, who introduced himself as Hanrich from Krotovka, suddenly rose and addressed me with a short bow:
"Esteemed Raven, could you help me settle a dispute?"
"My apologies, Hanrich, but I am a sheriff of the Sortudo people, and settling disputes without the participation of representatives of my people is beyond my purview."
"Nevertheless, you are the Sheriff of the Book, and the dispute arose within a group of tunnelers." He gestured at those seated at the table.
"Only if my intervention is accepted by all parties," I stated my condition.
"We agree!" Gulie immediately responded, apparently speaking for everyone.
It did not escape my notice that one of the tunnelers, although nodding in agreement, had turned as pale as chalk.
It turned out that the dispute had been ongoing for quite some time. And that's if you put it mildly. It had lasted almost three years, and once a month, it flared up. That's when the tunnellers called in the sheriff. But over these three years of contention, Hanrich never found a solution. And the local sheriff was clearly very frustrated with this situation. Here was the crux of the matter: one of the tunnellers was seen consuming an excessive amount of potions during dungeon crawls. Ribata even accused him of deliberately diluting his potions before clearing out a dungeon. According to the Guild's Code, all consumed potions were later compensated from the collective loot, and that seemed to be the issue. Furthermore, no one had ever caught the "violator" red-handed; all the evidence was circumstantial. So circumstantial that all these years, despite all the suspicions of excessive "slyness," Turgan – that's what the suspect was called – was not kicked out of the team. In essence, the problem was relatively minor. How much could one gain from such tricks, a couple of silvers for a raid? I don't think it would be more. But one shouldn't overlook that this group of tunnellers was clearing Iron-level dungeons, and even a couple of silvers were good money for them, unlike, for instance, Grontor's team. Not exactly big money, but still significant. I doubt anyone in Bronze or even Steel would bother with such tricks, but in Iron... Yes, it's entirely possible. Since there were no direct proofs of violation, this dispute could last forever or until they genuinely caught the trickster red-handed. So it's no wonder Hanrich was so tired of this matter and couldn't find a solution.
To be honest, I didn't have a perfect solution either. But the way the locals looked at my guild Sign with the symbol of a half-unrolled scroll, with such reverence and even some awe, gave me an idea. After hearing everything more than once and also getting comments on the case from Hanrich, I rose from the table and cleared my throat demonstratively:
"Ahem," I took a few steps, looming over the suspect. "Stand up, Turgan of Malorska." The man, not so young, around thirty years old, obediently rose from his chair, and I placed my hand on his shoulder. I had no evidence of his guilt. Well, there were some, but only in the form of indirect suspicions from his team members. Therefore, the only thing I could turn to for resolving this longstanding dispute was psychology, which I did. "Look me in the eyes. Into the eyes of the Sheriff of the Book! And say that you are innocent!"
For a moment, it seemed he would withstand my psychological pressure. But only for a moment. It wasn't even a breath later when his shoulders slumped, and he looked away.
"I confess," he murmured. "I confess I played some tricks." He raised his eyes to those sitting at the table and began to ramble, "Please have mercy! I have seven children, and Marna is always sick! I bust my gut for every coin..." He said more quietly.
Pressing down on Turgan's shoulder, I seated him back in the chair. The father of many children continued to speak, but no one listened to him anymore; all eyes and all attention were fixed on me.
"Sheriff Raven," Henrich addressed me, "what is your verdict?"
"In accordance with the Code," my voice was calm and emotionless, "and considering the defendant's dire financial situation, my sentence... Until Turgan of Malorska repays his debt, his share of each dungeon expedition will be reduced by one-tenth. And if he continues to be caught in deceits, I leave it to Sheriff Hanrich's discretion to amend this sentence to make it harsher."
Smiles immediately spread across the faces of the five tunnellers, but Turgan wept bitterly.
"In the name of the Law." Rising to his feet, Hanrich, with a relieved exhale, slammed his palm onto the table. "As the district sheriff, I confirm the verdict of the Sheriff of the Book!"
I took a moment to evaluate my new Achievement. "Fair Trial" – this Achievement didn't have ranks but contained something like subcategories, and in the first of such subcategories, a Wootz entry appeared: "Resolution of Turgan of Malorska's case."
With that, I said my goodbyes to everyone and headed for the exit. And I was escorted by silence and the occasional sob of a man whose already difficult life I had just made even harder.
[1] AN: Aristotle, in his writings, claimed that a fly has eight legs. For many centuries, everyone mindlessly repeated this statement. Only in the late Middle Ages did someone bother to verify Aristotle's claim and was surprised to discover that a fly only has six legs! This caused a real sensation in the budding scientific community of Europe at the time. The story is interesting because anyone can count the number of legs on a fly. No special tools are required; just catch the insect and count. But everyone was so "overwhelmed" by Aristotle's authority that none of Europe's naturalists ever thought to doubt and check the ancient scholar's words. For many centuries, more than fifteen hundred years, the statement that a fly has eight legs was mindlessly passed from one scientific work to another. TLN: As readers pointed out, it's rather a translation/interpretation error. In addition in English this story is about four legs, but in the Russian version it's eight. Neither is necessarily true, but in any case the guys used it for persuasion successfully.