The Watch Captain was talking to the innkeeper as guardsman Jon and Seargent Edd stood at ease, just inside the door. They were called to investigate a brawl by a wide eyed baker who’d reported it at the guardpost, and Jon noticed the Captain groan when they’d heard inn’s name.
“So what is this place? It looks nice. Cap seemed pretty wary of it all though” Jon whispered, the younger man sidling up to Edd and speaking out of the corner of his mouth.
“I guess you haven’t heard yet, have you?” Edd was also speaking out of the corner of his mouth. They’d come to break up a fight, but upon finding half the combatants gone, they’d been told to stay by the door and try to project calm. Jon was getting bored though; none of the patrons or the innkeeper seemed aggressive, and it was mostly just standing around waiting.
“No, of course not. I’m only a few weeks in, remember? In training they mostly covered how not to stab yourself on a sword and how to put your helmet on right”.
Edd nodded gravely at that. “I suppose they wouldn’t, would they? Well this place? Get to know it. It’s an adventurer bar”
Jon smiled at that. “I’ve heard a few of those rumors. One of the trainers was telling me some load about how adventurers can rip a man’s arms off and beat him to death with them.
“Oh, that’s total exaggeration”
“I mean, obvious-“
“Mulligan only had one arm ripped off, and he was only unconscious. He ended up retiring. Has a little chicken farm a few hours out of the city with his husband. Great place to go for a holiday. I think he’s also brewing beer now too?”
Jon stared at the older man. “Wait, what?”
Edd glanced at the fresh faced recruit for a second, with an incredulous look on his face, before swiveling his neck back to their Watch Captain, who was nodding away as the half orc was animatedly gesturing, describing the incident.
“…Mulligan? The guy you were just talking about? Guardsman who got his arm ripped off and beaten unconscious with it while breaking up a brawl at an adventurer tavern? That was the Royal Rooster’s Coop though; they’re just a bar. They don’t have many rooms. Tends to get a bit rowdier there because of it”
Jon swallowed, suddenly realizing he’d been far too blase striding in here.
“And that” Edd continued, inclining his head slightly towards the innkeeper, who seemed to be finishing up his tale, and listening more and more as the Captain spoke, “Is Olric Steelskin.”
Jon’s eyes bulged slightly and he coughed slightly.
“You mean…the one from Forge’s Pass?”
“Yep. ‘The Forge’s Pass incident. Where irons were tempered, and walked out made of steel’. That one. He’s pretty famous around here, but he’s on a list of people called the “upstanding citizens”. We’re supposed to point them out to newbies like you, and tell you one, crucial order, that’s unofficially official, and comes from the top brass themselves.”
Edd then turned fully to Jon, sunrising the young man by looking right into his eyes.
“Kid. That guy over there? He’s an “upstanding citizen”.” The older guardsman raised his hands and made quotation marks in the air.
“They’re people in the city who are known to punch far above their weight class, and are pretty much considered absolute monsters of personal combat. They’re permitted in the city because they’ve rendered some sort of service, or are typically pretty relaxed and, well, good citizens. But the way you get on that list is by having something that might set you off, or some reason why you could be volatile in the right situation. Olric Steelskin is one of them.”
Jon was starting to feel dizzy at all of this. He said as much, eliciting a grim chuckle from Edd.
“Now listen closely. Officially? This list doesn’t exist. We don’t profile. Most of the time, it’s more of a “have a chat to them and keep them calm” kind of deal, and a reminder to show respect and not try to manhandle somebody who could straight up rip you in half. And I mean that literally. Because it’s not official, we aren’t allowed to have an official way of dealing with it you get me? Talk about it too much and you could get us in trouble”
Edd held Jon’s gaze until he saw a nod.
“This is…this is a lot. Ok, so what do I do if somebody on that list starts freaking out?”
Edd nodded, seeing the trainee start to take things seriously.
“First step? Talk to them. If they’re on the “upstanding citizen” list, it’s because they’re deemed safe. Most of them are ex adventurers trying to do the right thing, but have gone through something traumatic. Like…like Forge’s Pass. Usually it’s a misunderstanding, and the key thing is not to be some truncheon happy idiot who tries to hit them with bravado and threats and makes things worse.”
“Got it. So have a chat, and treat them like a person…isn’t that pretty standard? We should be doing that all the time. That’s like, conflict resolution step one”
Edd looked sharply at the younger man. He looked like some farmer’s son; build like a brick outhouse and none too bright. He’d assumed he’d be like every young hot-head joining the guard; spoiling for a fight and happy to start one. He felt new respect well up for the youngster. He decided that Jon was one worth watching.
“You’ll go far with that attitude, kid. I wish more were like you. But regardless, if one of them gets set off…run. Run away, and go and get help. We usually send at least three Watch Captains minimum to deal with things like that, and if one of our casters is free, we send in mage support”.
Jon was nodding along, then froze. “Wait…we knew Olric was here, and we came anyway…there’s just three of us…Edd. Why are there only three of us? Are you a witch?” Jon eyed the other man for a second. He didn’t seem like a spellcaster, but you could never tell.
“Not that that’s a problem!” he said hurriedly, catching himself. If Edd was a witch, a rude and pointed question would probably be the worst way of asking. “Some of my best friends are witches!
Edd felt any growing respect for the younger guardsman vanish in a puff of smoke at the ham fisted comment.
“Err…no. I’m not a spellcaster. And don’t call them witches.”
“…why? Will they…they won’t turn me into a toad will they?”
“No, idiot. Because it’s rude, and incorrect. True witches are a specific class of spellcaster, and most of them are on our side.”
“Oh…right” Jon felt relief blow through him at that. He’d grown up rurally, on bedtime stories of witches sneaking into houses and stealing little children if they misbehave. He’d met some of the guard’s spellcasters; grim faced people, but typically polite, and very dedicated to protecting the city’s peace. They definitely deserved his respect, but he found himself constantly stumbling, not knowing how to speak to them, and putting his foot in it more often than not.
“Also, they’re more likely to just set you on fire. Transmogrification is hard. That’s legend stuff right there. Most of them just slam fireballs around the place and call it a day”
Jon felt the relief keep blowing, right on past him.
“Anyway, the reason there’s only three of us…well, we have Watch Captain Dalton over there. The guard isn’t useless, and we know there are some real monsters out there” Edd’s eyes took on a shadowy cast for a second, and he turned back to the inn, standing relaxed but ready once more, and Jon took the hint to do the same.
“And we have a few monsters of our own…” he muttered, as the two men’s eyes fell onto Watch Captain Dalton.
____
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Watch Captain Dalton strode over to his two guardsmen. Jon was as fresh as they came, but seemed like he was trying. He’d been saddled with the boy, and despite being naive, he tried hard, and the community seemed to respond well to him. He’d do well. Edd was the opposite; the jaded older sergeant had been on Dalton’s squad for years, and had seen plenty of things that would have turned almost anybody else bitter. I suppose bitter isn’t a bad way to describe Edd though, is it? Dalton mused to himself. Not that the man let it effect the way he dealt with the life of a guardsman. The man was firm, but unfailingly polite, and dealt with most issues by diplomacy. He had Dalton’s respect for that.
“Right, we’ve spoken to Olric. Has Edd told you about the…special group…he belongs to?”
Both men nodded at that. “Yes Captain. I’ve been told how…notable his contributions to the city have been.”
Dalton nodded in return. “Good. I need to speak to the wizard next. She was involved. Then that halfling over there who witnessed it. There was a dwarf involved too, but honestly? I think we’ll just come back for a statement later. It’s not worth tracking him down, and I think we have all we need. At this point, we’re just doing it all by the books to cover our asses”
“I heard there were nobles involved. Won’t they push for more, Captain?” Edd inquired.
“No. The nobles involved were Eastmores. Specifically, a few cousins sent here from the Vauwood branch of the family for causing a bit of a ruckus over there. You know how nobles are venerated in that place”
“I understand sir. I take it this is a bit political?” Edd’s face seemed to spark with recognition at the names.
“It is indeed. Lord Eastmore himself sent a letter to our commanders asking for our flexibility when dealing with them, and the city council has asked for our patience. Apparently these cousins are on thin ice with their families. Weirdly enough, since it was them who were roughed up, the Eastmores want the whole thing dropped quietly”
Jon cleared his throat, looking like he wanted to speak.
“Uhh sir…I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. Wouldn’t it be the other way around?”
“Good question. I was wondering when you’d finally ask” The Watch Captain grinned in what he probably thought was a reassuring way, but the man instead just looked like a deranged axe murderer. Jon felt himself become even more scared of the dour man.
The Captain continued on his explanation, sounding for all the world like a university lecturer. This was at odds with his stern expression and the scars criss crossing up his arms, or the vicious, notched shortsword at his side. Quite a bit shorter than the standard guardsman’s blade, and he didn’t wear a cudgel either. The man practically screamed lethality.
“From what I understand, our Lord Eastmore took these kids in as a favor to the Vauwood branch of his family. In Vauwood, they were taking advantage of the…arrangement….the nobility have with their city, but not pulling their weight. Brawls, out of hand parties, public damage and anti social behavior. Practically running wild, to the point their families were embarrassed. They were sent here to hopefully salvage them as actual humans. Our Lord Eastmore isn’t a bad sort, and it seems like they only really respect family, but he’s well aware that they’re a little…volatile. He’s asked our council to overlook any incidents they find themselves in, within reason, on the basis they might end up becoming productive members of the community. Plus, relations with Vauwood is always a good thing for a growing city like ours. The city council agreed, as long as they don’t go too far. Funnily enough, the dwarf beating the shit out of one of them is probably the only thing that saved them from being turned over to us for a nice stay in a cozy prison cell”.
Jon nodded. He was doing a lot of nodding today. “I understand sir”.
The Captain turned towards the table where the wizard with blue robes was sitting, engrossed in her book. She’d been reading since they arrived, and hadn’t even looked up. The dauntless captain paused, looking at her, seemed to recognize something, and then stood up straight, adjusted his tunic, pulling it a little straighter, and pasting what probably passed for a pleasant smile on his face, before walking towards the studious woman.
“Was…Was Captain Dalton nervous?” Jon asked Edd, who was staring dumbstruck at the wizard.
“Uhh…yeah. That insignia probably worried him a bit…It’s the symbol of the Cloudpiercers”.
“Wait, aren’t they the renegade mages? They’re mostly sorcerers and warlocks, right? I heard those psychos have been in a minor war with humanity for a few decades. Is she a member?”
“Uhh…no. I don’t think she is.”
“But she’s wearing their symbol?”
“Yeah…”
“So wouldn’t she be a member?”
Edd turned to Jon, seeming slightly terrified. It was the first time Jon had ever seen the man rattled. “Jon…the Cloudpiercers started disappearing about a year ago. Nobody was sure why, but there were whispers they were being hunted by somebody. Apparently they had an item somebody wanted. There was recently a skirmish with their upper leadership. Four mages of disastrous power. A sorcerer and a trio of warlocks. The warlocks were found dead, and the sorcerer…he was just gone. Apparently they singed whoever attacked them’s robes; it was found discarded with a tiny soot stain at their stronghold. Whoever did it took one of their robes as a replacement. That person was strong enough to practically wipe out an organization who declared war on the entire continent. And then decided to pretty much just mug them for a robe. Anybody wearing that symbol openly is pretty much marking themselves as the culprit, and therefore a target to any remnants of the organization. No adventurers or mercenaries have taken credit yet…”
Jon realized the implication “…and now this wizard is sitting here, openly wearing a robe with their insignia…”
“Yeah…”
The two men gulped.
____
Watch Captain Dalton walked back over. The conversation had been short, and that was enough. The wizard didn’t want to be disturbed and had made that abundantly clear. She had, however, deigned to confirm a very abbreviated version of events that corroborated what Olric had told them.
The normally unflappable man was sweating slightly.
“Are you all right, sir?” Jon inquired
“I’ll be fine Jon, thanks. I just…I need a second. That woman was…” he just shuddered, and trailed off.
“Excuse me, gentlemen?” a new voice sounded, coming from just behind Dalton. The trio of guardsmen practically jumped out of their skin, rounding on the newcomer.
“Will you be needing to chat to me at all? I’m very tired you see, and actually slept through most of the conflict. I won’t be much use as a witness, I’m afraid” The halfling continued, having finally woken from his sleep. He stood straight, and met their eyes with a cool confidence.
“Err, no sir. Thank you for your offer of cooperation, and I’d like to extend the formal thanks of the City Guard, as well as my personal appreciation, for you not getting involved in such a minor skirmish. Your restraint has been noted, and I’ll convey such in my report. Thank you once again, and please accept my apologies for any inconvenience to your day.”
The halfling nodded gravely, as if such a speech from a senior Watch Captain of the Guard was a commonplace occurrence.
“Of course Captain. Good day”
As the Halfling strode out of the inn, the three overstressed guardsmen let out a deep sign of relief.
“Who was that, anyway?” Jon broke the silence.
“I have absolutely no idea” Dalton replied.
“But the psycho slept through a fight between a bunch of nobles, high level adventurers and what seems like an arch wizard” Edd continued.
“Whoever he is, he’s probably an absolute powerhouse. It’s always best to show respect when you’re unsure. Some of these adventurers are touchy…and with a man like that? Let’s just hope he didn’t take any offense. We’re lucky to have gotten through that particularly conversation alive. Did you see how unperturbed he was? Amongst all this? That’s the look of somebody who’s an inch away from the edge.” Dalton finished.
Jon saw the normally calm man cracking slightly under the pressure. He felt thankful he was just a new patrolman; he wouldn’t have to deal with titans like these for a long time yet.
The three guardsmen exited the inn, leaving a respectful, and slightly fearful, few moments for the halfling to have cleared off. After a quick stop in to the guard post, a report was filed and the next squad on the duty roster took over from the three. As they finished their shift, the two older men grabbed a wound up Jon and hauled him to the nearest non-adventurer tavern. Multiple ales were consumed, and the three stressed guardsmen felt themselves slowly begin to relax.
___
Oscar the halfling strode out of The Huntsman’s Haunt as if he owned the place. His confidence was a quiet one, and to an observer, seemed to be born of an assurance of his place in the world. He slowly meandered his way down the street, entering an alleyway next to a local baker. If anybody had seen him, they might have taken him for a member of the nobility; a regal figure with an impassable expression. Stern and unyielding, as if etched from granite.
As he entered the alley, his composure broke, his legs trembled, and he leaned over as he fought to keep the contents of his stomach inside and the fear and nausea rippled through him like waves breaking against a cliff face.
“Gods above!” he cried, hearing his voice break. “I’m just an enchanter! I only graduated a few days ago! I went out for one drink. One drink to celebrate passing my licensing, and a bar brawl happens? And those…those guys were crazy! I heard from the guards they were throwing magic and swords around, and I think that innkeeper is famous! I just…I can’t…”
His stomach heaved, and he leaned over again, practically hyperventilating. He managed to win the battle to keep everything down, but barely.
“And the guards thought I was a part of it? They even thanked me? I only slept through because Peter brought out that bottle of whisky. Oh, I know I’m a lightweight for spirits. They always put me right out. Oh Gods, I could have died! I didn’t even know what was happening! I don’t…I can’t…and they just left me on that table”
He felt the panic starting to overtake him again.
“O…Oscar?” a thin voice sounded cautiously over his hammering heart. “Is that you?”
Oh great Oscar felt his heart plummet Is that Selina?
Oscar had a crush on the baker’s daughter, that had seen him become a regular at the bakery throughout his entire apprenticeship. He’d been planning to ask her out the day before, filled with the joy of having finally finished his apprenticeship, but a few of his fellow graduates had dragged him out on this wretched night to celebrate. And now she’d seen him in this state? This day couldn’t get any worse!
“Gods, it is you. You look terrified? Is everything OK?” she was walking forwards now, concern evident on her face.
Oscar looked at her caring eyes, filled to the brim with concern, and felt himself break all over again. Pulling it together, his voice husky, he ground out the words. “I’ve just seen some pretty scary stuff. I uhh…I don’t even know how to process it” he answered, his shock giving way to honesty.
“Sounds like you’ve had a bit of an adventure. I’ve just finished for the day. I was about to head to a tea house I know nearby. Would you like to come? You look like you could use something to unwind” she lightly gripped his shoulder, helping him straighted up, and he felt his heart flutter slightly.
“That…that would be nice…” he agreed, letting himself be led away and towards the main street again. Discretely, he pulled out a little leaf of mint out from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. A trick he’d learned as an apprentice, working long nights. Fresh breath was something that customers appreciated, and he was suddenly glad for the little leaf he’d started carrying after a particularly rough all nighter followed by a shift in his master’s store.
Suddenly he realized he was heading to a teahouse to sit down and relax. With the girl he’d been trying to find the courage to ask out for years. Maybe this isn’t the worst day of my life after all… he thought, as he felt the panic begin to recede and hope started to fill him. He felt a smile slowly shine through, and push all the fear of the last hour away. No, this day isn’t so bad at all.