Hundreds of shuttles flew in and out from the many docking bays of the bulky spire. Most of the vessels would be delivering goods for the many shops and factories inside. The top half of the spire was made of the same bleached material seen throughout Bratton, but the bottom half was constructed almost haphazardly of multicolored scrap metal.
There was one entrance to the right, leading to a private elevator. Unfortunately, it was restricted to nobles, so I entered the left-hand archway into the marketplace filled with my people--Outlanders.
Our bodies tended to be leaner, stronger, and more athletic than the Core World peoples. The physical differences were slight, but they allowed for an easier regulation of our bodies’ biological rhythms on planets where rune-forming hadn’t gone perfectly.
The predatory life forms my ancestors lived among were almost as terrible as Grendels, and we evolved to better combat those deadly enemies. The creatures on our home worlds emitted a glow from within their stomachs, and our silver irises allowed us to detect blue light easier. Eventually we wiped those monsters out, but then we’d faced a new kind of threat: human civilization.
I’d learned to appreciate my Outlander heritage from my Mom, and there wasn’t much racism against our people outside of the “Pure-Blood” faction on the Core Worlds. Most citizens only judged Outlanders by how much wealth their families possessed, and now that I was a knight, they would only care about how many Kingdom Points I brought into the realm.
Outlanders also loved music. Which is why on every corner I passed buskers strummed their guitars and pounded their drums while beautiful women with jingling bracelets danced in circles. Children ran barefoot while waving balloon animals over their heads. In many ways, these lower levels were like the tenements on Dobuni, and this was the closest I could get to being home.
I couldn’t allow myself to reminisce, however, since I was in a rush to get my new equipment and make my way to the docks. When I pushed through the crowds to reach the elevator, many of the Outlanders gave me strange looks. I might have looked like them, but my surcoat couldn’t quite obscure the light armor of the Royal Trident Forces or the sheathed gladius which swung from my prot-belt.
Merchants stood in my way, and some refused to move until I looked at the minor enchantments displayed at their stalls or rested my hand on my sword hilt. Runetech designed for combat use was forbidden to civilians, but there were plenty of other things available to purchase. Sport bats built to strike an endless number of balls but not split, gowns which molded themselves to the woman wearing them, and runic implants granting their users access to virtual worlds.
None of them interested me.
The enchantments I’d come to buy were only available legally on the upper levels. There were some shadier stalls available on Level 8, but going there was almost as dangerous as clearing a Grendel rift.
After pushing a particularly insistent merchant out of the way, I entered the public elevator and punched in the code for Level 51. While the levels blurred as the box ascended, I thought about what I would purchase.
Besides a prot-belt, every member of the RTF could wear ten pieces of armor. There were slots in the belt for a helmet, a chest piece, arm pieces, shoulders, gloves, leg armor, boots, an amulet, and two rings. We could equip as many weapons as we could carry. Thanks to our strength conditioning and armor enhancements, that was a lot.
The whole system sounded simple, but when you added in weapon effects, runes, and set item benefits, there was an entire world of augmenting possibilities.
When the elevator doors opened, I made my way through the marble-floored corridors, almost at a run. When I nearly bowled a noblewoman over, I slowed down. But only a little.
A sign bearing the name The Silver Rune pulsed above a shop filled with equipment. Outside the entrance, a holographic projection displayed a slideshow of the many items available for purchase.
An attendant came alongside me as I examined the Squire class equipment inside the store. From the silver-colored vest worn over his white tunic, the man beside me was an enchanter. All RTF enchanters wore the silver-colored uniform. Unlike the craftsmen on the lower levels, these bore the official seal of approval from the RTF, and they prided themselves on their pristine appearance.
“Do you see anything to your liking?” he asked.
“To be honest, there’s so much here. I barely know where to start.”
The man smiled at me, and as he stared a little longer, his eyebrows shot up. “You . . . You’re one of the Heroes of Tyranus! Well, I think you should come with me. There are much better items out the back.”
What I’d thought were all the Squire items in the front of the shop had been only a small selection. The attendant took me to a room that was almost impossible to walk through because of the many shelves packed tightly together, all overflowing with Runetech items.
The enchanter walked behind me. I stopped at one shelf, noticing a sleeveless chest piece. Runes were inscribed into buckles stretched across its midsection, and without its dampener activated, the whole item glowed a dull blue. I couldn’t tell its stats from just looking at it, so I scanned it with my belt.
Armor type: Brigandine of Might
Absorption rating: Advanced
Power class: Squire
Armor effect: Negation - negates 15% of initial hit damage.
Runes inscribed: Might (+2)
Rune class: Squire
Rune effects: Enhances wearer’s musculature capabilities by 30%. Can only remain active for thirty minutes due to the risk of muscle fatigue.
I stared at the Brigandine of Might and imagined myself wearing it. Maybe it was overkill for humanitarian missions, but I might run into trouble with the rebel Space Knights on the Stalwart. I wasn’t sure I could ever beat a knight in single combat, but a powerful item like this would certainly help. I would need a two-handed weapon to best utilize its rune effect, but I possessed more than enough currency to purchase both items.
“Is it to your liking?” the enchanter asked as he stood proudly beside the shelf with his arms behind his back. “It is a fine piece of armor. One of the best items available to the Squire bracket, actually. Perhaps I can show you an equipment list to complement the Brigandine of Might. What’s your total budget?”
My heart was racing as I counted the figures in my head. I’d have to allow for Mom’s rental payments, as well as some currency for her taxes. After that, I could pretty much spend everything in my account since my food and lodgings were covered while I was aboard the Stalwart.
“I have 3,000 Kingdom Points, but I’d like to keep the total cost to under two,” I said. The enchanter’s eyebrow tweaked. Was 2,000 KPs not enough?
“Oh dear. I’m so sorry.” The store clerk frowned, and his shoulders slumped. “We don’t have anything in this store for that price. I’d really like to give you a bargain, but times are tough. Surely you’ve heard about the price hikes?”
I shook my head. “Before I went to the Academy, 2,000 KPs would have been more than two month’s wages for the average person.” Duke Barnes mustn’t have known about them either, but then he probably had rooms filled with accountants to manage his treasury.
“A lot has happened in three years. Relations with the other kingdoms in the Triumvirate have led to an increase in taxes.” The enchanter sighed. “Typically, Academy graduates don’t come to the spire to buy their gear. You didn’t inherit any items?”
My face melted into a frown, and I looked away from the enchanter. My dad had been a knight, but whatever he’d done in the RTF was classified. He hadn’t left Mom and me any money or Runetech gear in his will, only the Academy scholarship, the letter, and the surcoat. As far as anyone else knew, my dad was just another Outlander who’d left his wife and son behind after gambling away everything he owned. The only people who thought otherwise were Mom and me.
“Is there anything at all I can buy with 2,000 KPs?” I asked the enchanter. “It wouldn’t have to be amazing. Functional will do.”
Humanitarian missions might not earn me much currency, and I wasn’t sure whether the duke would send me more, so it would probably be a while until I got an upgrade. I figured humbler gear would be better anyway since I was operating as a spy on the Stalwart.
“No, I’m so sorry,” the enchanter said. “Everything in our store is outside your price range.”
I looked out at the vast shelves available to squires. I probably looked like an idiot, walking in here thinking I could get myself a bunch of new gear with so little currency. The display lights were making the brigandine shimmer on the shelf, and I turned away from it.
I couldn’t go to the Stalwart without upgraded gear, and I figured there had to be an enchantry somewhere in the spire selling half-decent equipment for a lower price. I’d make my way down each level until I found a store with gear I could purchase.
Then I remembered the duke had said the Stalwart would leave the dock at 08:00, which meant I only had time to visit one or two more shops.
“I better be going,” I said, but the enchanter grabbed my arm to stop me.
The man looked at his pointed shoes, as though what he was about to say wasn’t completely licit. “Listen, I know a guy on Level 8 who can help you out. His name’s Max. He’s as good as any one of us up here. He’s an Outlander like you. I probably don’t need to explain the reasons why Max couldn’t work on the upper levels. Anyway, if you’d like I can send a message through to his enchantry to let him know you’re coming.”
The shop clerk’s offer made my mouth broaden into a massive grin. This would save me a lot of time. Then my relief was shattered when I recalled what level the enchanter mentioned. “You said Level 8, didn’t you?”
“I know what you’re thinking. I’m sure you’ve heard stories, but the place is safe enough if you’re in and out nice and quick. It’s mostly Wayfarers who live there now, and they’re no trouble. Max is worth enduring the few folks who might heckle you down there. You’ll not find anything you can use up here for 2,000 KPs, but he’ll probably have some gear.”
“Thanks. Please send him the message.” I waited for the enchanter, and after he’d finished the call, I thanked him. He gave me directions, and then I took one last look at the Brigandine of Might before taking an elevator bound for Level 8.
In the reflection of the elevator’s chrome walls, I could see my cheeks were bright red. I couldn’t help my embarrassment showing on my face. The enchanter attendant had been far nicer than I’d thought a noble could be, but I still felt like a fool for even going to such a high level. With my time running short, I was glad I didn’t have to move through the levels. I figured the enchanter from The Silver Rune wouldn’t have sent me to Level 8 unless he really thought this Max guy could make good gear.
The elevator doors opened, and I was immediately hit with the familiar ionic scent of dismantled Grendel equipment. Unlike the regulated enchanters on the upper levels, the craftsmen here didn’t care about the slightly toxic gases the dismantling process emitted. As I walked, I was surrounded by the steady clang of hammers upon workbenches and puffs of green smoke belching out from loose pipes. I didn’t see any of the Wayfarer groups the enchanter mentioned earlier, but there were dozens of workshops and micro-factories.
Before I’d entered the Academy, I’d served on Level 14 as an apprentice enchanter. The most important thing I’d learned was to respect good craftsmanship. I’d seen the results of dodgy runic equipment that left the wearer in stasis chambers while they were repaired atom by atom.
I’d enjoyed working as an enchanter’s apprentice, but many of the jobs weren’t exactly legal. After one too many close calls, I decided it was too risky to keep working there. Helping Mom would have been impossible from inside a jail cell. The day after I quit my job, I received a message from the RTF Academy asking why I hadn’t registered for classes yet. Then Mom had told me about the scholarship my father had left behind, and how I was expected to attend the very next semester.
I came to the rusted metal building The Silver Rune’s enchanter had described. It was fashioned like a fort with a drawbridge to add some real authenticity to the primitive ensemble. The pool beneath the bridge stank like sewage, and a fleet of questionable vessels floated on top of the water.
The doors creaked open as I approached, and I was hit with a wave of heat. Machinery stations filled the cramped enchantry, and their pistons fired as workmen fed items along their conveyer belts. The enchanting process differed from almost every other industry because much of the work was still performed manually.
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Molten metal bubbled from a pit at the far end of the shop, and a man wearing goggles was standing beside it. I went to him as he fished out a mold with a pair of tongs.
“Are you Max?” I yelled above the sound of machinery.
He pulled his goggles up and rested them on his forehead between patches of wiry gray hair. “You the hero?”
I felt awkward about everyone calling me a hero, but it was better than ‘Poor Boy,’ so I nodded.
“Heard you wanted some decent gear at a cheap price. Don’t know I can do that for just anyone.” Max slipped his goggles back over his eyes. The lenses elongated, and images flashed over their screens while he took a glove from the stand next to him and started drilling delicate runes along its knuckles.
As the microscopic fragments of Arcane Dust drifted from the glove, I swallowed back the harsh air and blinked away the stinging vapors.
I should have known I’d have problems getting gear even on Level 8. Time was running out for me to get to the Stalwart. This guy was going to have to sell me something, even if it was the worst gear in his shop.
“I’m about to set sail on the Stalwart, and I need gear,” I yelled over the sound of the other workers.
Max paused midway through a rune. Without taking off his goggles, he jerked his head toward me. “You say the Stalwart?”
“Yes, sir. The ship will be leaving in a few hours.”
“That can’t be right. If you’re the hero, whose cereal did you shit in to get assigned to that dogpile?”
“I wanted to work my way up and earn my keep. I figured the worst ship in the fleet was the way to do that.” I didn’t like lying to Max, but I couldn’t have anyone know about my clandestine mission. “I’ll need equipment to do that, sir.”
The enchanter sighed, put down his drill, and removed his goggles. “What gear do you need, kid?”
“Some basic Squire items.” The Novice equipment the Academy had allowed me to keep was functional, but it wouldn’t last for the duration of my assignment on the Stalwart even if we were just doing humanitarian missions. Low-quality Dust faded with time, and the gear would lose their magical properties in a few months. Then I’d have to spend countless hours repairing the armor and sword.
Max grunted, but he stood and walked over to a wall filled with metal cabinets. He started pulling the drawers open and tossed items onto the ground. Before long, there was a pile of equipment a meter high.
“First thing you’ll need is a decent prot-belt.” The enchanter walked up to me. Suddenly, his hands were around my waist as he removed my gladius, unclipped my old belt, and fitted me with a new one. “Fits you well. The good thing about this particular Squire belt is your forcefield recharges. It’s pretty slow, mind you, but it’s a godsend when you’re in a bind.”
“I could have done with one of these on Tyranus,” I said mostly to myself.
“Link it with the rune on your hand,” Max said, and I thought he mustn’t have heard me.
I fired up the prot-belt’s power and allowed its scanner to read my palm rune. My details filtered into the new belt’s holographic interface which projected itself from the belt’s buckle. Besides this advanced interface and a few additional functions, the buttons were all in the same place.
The belt linked with the rest of my equipment, and the activation sequence scrolled down the holo menu. My preferred technique I called a speed sequence showed at the bottom. I’d relied on the synergy between my leg armor and my boots to get off Tyranus, so I was glad this prot-belt wouldn’t have any compatibility issues.
I went over a few of the other functions and almost choked when I read the time. Less than two hours before the Stalwart was scheduled to leave.
This was a massive upgrade when compared with my old belt, and probably expensive. I smiled at the item bitterly. I was about to ask the enchanter the price so I could get the disappointment over with and leave for the Stalwart when he thrust a heavy chest piece into my arms.
“You’re a big lad, so you’ll need armor large enough to cover your vitals.”
The chest armor was a cuirass with outer guards dropping from the main piece and flanking the hips. I was excited to try it on, but I’d just been slammed with major disappointment in The Silver Rune. I didn’t want to get my hopes up with Max’s equipment. I sighed and rested the cuirass on a bench.
“Listen, Max. I don’t have a lot of Kingdom Points.”
Max’s thick eyebrows bunched together. “How many?”
“3,000 total, but I need 1,000 for my mom.”
“Helping out your mother, are you?” The enchanter gave me a proud smile. “We don’t get many Outlanders entering the Academy. Let alone being called a hero to the Caledonian Kingdom. You’ve done us all proud. So, I want you to keep the belt, the armor, and then take a weapon from this pile. You can give me 800 KPs for the lot if you leave me your gladius, old prot-belt, and chest piece. I’m losing a bit of money, but helping you is like helping our people.”
I couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so nice to me, and it made my chest swell. Three years at the Academy had made me forget how Outlanders tended to stick together since I was the only one in the whole institution. Maybe our camaraderie was one of the reasons the Pure-Bloods thought we were problematic.
Max scanned my prot-belt and my balance readout updated.
Current Kingdom Balance: 2,200
Total Kingdom Points Earned: 0
I hadn’t earned the KPs the duke gave me, so my total earned was still zero.
“Thanks,” I said to the enchanter.
“Don’t mention it,” Max said.
I scanned the cuirass with my new prot-belt.
Armor type: Cuirass of Triumph
Absorption rating: Standard
Power class: Squire
Armor effect: Battery - an ionic supply source used to replenish a prot-belt’s forcefield.
Runes inscribed: Enhance
Rune class: Squire
Rune effects: Added ionic prot-field recharge rate of 15%
The cuirass was a good defensive item that synergized well with my new belt. Together they’d make a great starting kit if I wanted to advance in the shield knight role. I hadn’t thought much about my progression because I’d been so intent on finishing at the Academy. Seeing all these weapons piled up made me realize there were so many paths I could take.
It was a little overwhelming.
I wanted to see how the cuirass felt, so I unequipped my light armor and slipped on the new chest piece. Max helped me tighten it until it was snug around my chest and waist.
“Looks good on you,” the enchanter said as he stepped back.
I started sorting through the weapons pile for something to synergize with the cuirass and prot-belt. Thankfully most of the items were scabbarded so I didn’t worry about slicing my hands. I didn’t have time to sort them all, and I definitely didn’t have time to scan them one by one. I’d have to use my gut to choose something that wasn’t too unfamiliar.
There were single-bladed axes with short handles, double-bladed axes with long handles, and combinations of both. I pulled out what looked like a staff, only to find a massive spiked ball chained to it. I’d seen some cadets use similar weapons in the Academy’s battle rooms. I imagined crushing a Grendel’s lizard skull beneath the iron ball and smiled.
“Good flail, that one,” Max said as he indicated the weapon in my hand.
I scanned the item.
Weapon type: Two-handed Flail of Crushing Detection
Additional damage: None
Power class: Squire
Weapon effect: Changes color when in proximity to high Arcane Dust items.
Runes inscribed: Greater Gravity
Rune class: Squire
Rune effects: Spiked ball magnifies in gravity when swung, granting 20% more weapon damage and ignoring lesser armor.
The flail was more offensive than weapons I’d wielded in the past, but I couldn’t use a shield with it. The ability to find powerful Dust items was useful, although I wasn’t sure how much use it would get on my current assignment. I thought about using the big flail in combat and my smile widened. The massive ball on the end would probably crush most Grendels with one hit. I could almost hear the sounds of their armor breaking with the might of my imaginary attacks.
“What about this one?” I asked as I set the flail down, grabbing a short-handled axe with a single-edged head instead. After I gave it a few swings, I scanned it.
Weapon type: Short-Axe of Fortification
Additional damage: None
Power class: Squire
Weapon effect: None
Runes inscribed: Fortify
Rune class: Squire
Rune effects: When the short-axe strikes successfully, prot-field recharges at a rate of 1% per second for three seconds.
The axe didn’t have any weapon effects, but the rune effect was so powerful it didn’t need them. Unlike the flail, there was synergy with my new belt. With the cuirass’ increased recharge rate, my prot-field would have almost constant uptime. The axe was also one-handed, so I could carry a shield in my off-hand, or even wield a second weapon. These weapons were the kinds berserker knights used. I imagined myself wading into a crowd of Grendels while the axe spun in my hand. I would be able to laugh off their attempts to take down my prot-field.
“Not a bad choice,” the enchanter said. “You could go either way, really. Mind if I make a different suggestion?”
“Sure,” I said. Both the axe and the flail were excellent items, so I was hoping the weapon Max was about to suggest would make my decision easier.
The enchanter handed me a longsword from the pile. It looked unremarkable compared to the flail and the axe, but the twinkle in the man’s eye made me think it held many secrets.
The sword fit well in my grip, and I made a few gentle sweeping movements to test its weight. The blade was only a little heavier than I was accustomed to, unlike the flail, but it was still much heavier than the axe. I ran through a few forms while the enchanter watched.
The longsword reminded me a lot of the gladius I’d used on Tyranus, except this sword was wielded with two hands. Satisfied with the blade’s balance and weight, I scanned the item and watched its details manifest on the projection.
Weapon type: Longsword of Propulsion
Additional damage: None
Power class: Squire
Weapon effect: None
Runes inscribed: Forcewave
Rune class: Squire
Rune effects: [unknown]
I couldn’t determine any synergy with the cuirass because the longsword’s rune effects were unknown. I could try activating the Forcewave rune, but without knowing its function, I was asking for trouble. I restarted the prot-belt in case there had been a glitch, but when it rebooted the information was the same.
“What’s this Forcewave rune?” I asked Max. “I haven’t seen it before, and the kingdom database doesn’t have a description for its effect.”
“That’s because it’s non-regulation.”
“Is it safe?”
The intense way Max looked down at me, made me feel like I was being scolded. “You think I’d put it on the pile if it wasn’t?” he asked. “I’m not some kind of sick bastard who gets his kicks--“ He stopped and sighed. “I invented the Forcewave myself. It was meant to be for guardian knights, but then King Justinian died, rest his soul. With all the drama in the hierarchy while Princess Catrina became Queen Catrina, my patent wasn’t approved. I tried again, and it was rejected. After that, I did some reworking. Made a less powerful iteration which would work with Squire runes. The new version is the one on this longsword.”
I stared at the glowing sigil on the sword’s handle. “What does it do?”
“Projects the prot-field from your belt out through the sword. Initiate the rune, and you can give it a try.”
Waves of excitement rolled over me when I thought about the term ‘forcewave.’ Sending out my prot-field via the longsword would cause it to deplete, but with the cuirass and rune effects increasing my forcefield’s recharge rate, it wouldn’t be so big of a tradeoff.
A part of me wanted to put the longsword back on the pile and find something with less potential for dangerous malfunctions. Max looked like a trustworthy guy, but the kingdom regulated runes for a reason. But I figured I’d try the sword out before deciding against it. The rune was unlikely to malfunction while I was standing next to its inventor.
I summoned my inventory, selected the Longsword of Propulsion, and activated the Forcewave rune. Nothing happened. After a little thought, while Max smirked at me, I activated my prot-field. The weapon thrummed in my hand as the link between belt and sword finalized.
“Go on,” Max said, now grinning. “Try it out.” He pointed toward a stack of iron boxes ten meters away.
The sword trembled with active power while I held it in front of me. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. I’d never wielded such a powerful magical weapon before so I was a little nervous about using it.
I brought the sword above my head and slashed downward so its tip touched the ground. The movement didn’t produce anything, and I turned to the enchanter with a look of disappointment.
“You gotta end the movement with a twist,” Max said.
I slashed the sword again, but this time I twisted my wrist a little. The action produced a loud thrum as a wave of energy pulsed from the blade. The iron crates slammed together and bounced apart. A few of them rolled the length of the workshop and clattered to a halt at the feet of some of the workers.
The enchanter chuckled behind me, and I got the feeling he was laughing at my attempt.
“Did I do it wrong?” I frowned at the Longsword of Propulsion. It definitely seemed like projecting my prot-field into a concussive force was the intention.
“It was damned near perfect,” Max said. “Maybe a little less power next time. You’re trying to usher your forcefield forward with the blade, not slice someone’s head off.”
“Got it,” I said. “Anything else?”
“If you do decide to take the weapon, you’ll need to make sure you have plenty of room between you and whatever you want to hit. Otherwise, you’ll find your prot-field will backfire. And that won’t be pretty.”
“How far?” I asked.
“At least four meters.”
I committed the needed distance to memory and tested the weapon some more. Every time I thrust my sword forward, my prot-field dimmed. On my next swing, I changed the angle as I bought the weapon down in a slash, and my forcefield didn’t weaken much. Different maneuvers seemed to produce forcewaves of varying strength, whereas others acted like regular attacks, leaving my prot-field mostly intact. Each forcewave used a little of my prot-field’s power, with variations depending upon how much kinetic force I invested into a strike.
“It projects a blunt force,” Max said after I’d finished. “The potential changes depending on the prot-belt you’re wearing. With the Squire one I gave you, it’s not particularly powerful without using almost all of your forcefield. But lower strength attacks will generate enough room for you to use the longsword as it was intended.”
Throwing forcewaves made me feel like a god. The only thing stopping me from hollering with glee were my doubts about the rune’s reliability.
I was stuck with the choice between three equally good weapons. Well, the longsword might have been better, but I worried about it malfunctioning.
With the flail, I’d be smashing Grendels in single hits. A few months wielding it and I’d gain a few kilos of extra muscle. It was a fighting style I could get used to.
The axe would satisfy my penchant for diving headfirst into enemies. I imagined leaping into a group of Grendel Elites and whirling around like a cyclone. Rapid attacks would make me nearly invulnerable as long as I kept mowing the lizards down. Berserker knights had always fascinated me. This axe would give me plenty of practice in the role before I ascended to full knighthood.
But the longsword provided something unique. Since the forcewave wasn’t technically a projectile, regular prot-fields wouldn’t be able to stop it. One heavy swing and I’d be able to crush reptilian armor like a tin can. I didn’t really know what specialist role would best suit this weapon. Max had originally designed the Forcewave rune for guardian knights, but only nobles were admitted into that specialist role.
Three weapons, and I could only choose one.
Except it wasn’t really a choice. I knew exactly what weapon I wanted.
“I like the longsword,” I said to the enchanter.
“Of course you do!” Max gave me a wink, and he pulled out his tablet and punched a few keys.
The shop suddenly quieted. The workers all stopped, and their machines ground to a halt.
The iron doors opened at the entrance, and a rotund man entered the workshop, flanked by two men holding glowing assault rifles.
Calling the man rotund was just me being polite; he was probably the fattest man I’d ever seen. The frills around his collar and sleeves, along with the sheer size of his linen shirt, made it look like he’d stripped a bed to clothe himself. When he moved, every part of him jiggled, and the protective runes along his clothes shimmered. He wore high-powered Runetech, which meant he was someone important. And dangerous.
His guards were both wearing black doublets, and if it weren’t for the faintest glow along the seams, I wouldn’t have noticed the garments were laden with runes, too.
These men were prepared for a fight.
“Better put that away, lad,” Max said as he nodded at the longsword, and I fixed the weapon to my prot-belt’s magnetons. “Gregory is all sorts of scum. Let me do the talking and don’t do anything heroic.”