4.1
Kargerran
Commander Faulkin stated, "Your squad escorted several researchers back to the city. Please describe for the Assembly what you witnessed on the way back."
----------------------------------------
*~*~*
"Hi, Kargerran. Mind if I step outside with you guys for a moment?" Roberto Garcias asked.
His squad was formed up near the dungeon exit, the handful of mages heading back to the city tonight gathering nearby.
"I have no objection, but we won't be able to escort you or take responsibility for your safety," Kargerran said.
"No worries on that; I'm not planning on going far," the Dreamer said. He dropped his voice to a more confidential level and added, "You talked with Candy earlier, right? That reminded her that she hasn't done much more than say 'thank you' to you guys for hauling her out of the Mana Wastes. She asked me to find out what would be the 'culturally appropriate' way to make sure you know that she appreciates that. We nixed her idea to give you plasma rifles since her design's still more of a prototype right now, and Jason brought up the idea that gifts might actually be insulting. You've been pretty chill with us, pretty upright, so I'm hoping that asking you outright like this is okay?"
"Vi, come here, please," Kargerran said, waving Vi up to them. Looking back to Roberto Garcias, he said, "Vi's got actual skill ranks in [Etiquette]."
Vi joined them, and Kargerran shared Roberto Garcias' request. Vi nodded, his gaze unfocusing for a moment. "Okay. Lotrot's got a lot of what you're calling cultures mixing, so we're more flexible than other Free Cities here. You're also in the weird position of being absolutely foreign, so how you choose to proceed will set up the expected [Etiquette] for future scenarios."
Roberto Garcias gave them a wry smile, the genuine humor on an elf's face an odd sight. "Well, how would you expect a native of Lotrot to behave?"
Vi said, "That could take a while to go through."
Kargerran nodded. "Alright, we'll head out, then. Vi, would you please stay at the back with Roberto Garcias?"
"Yes, sergeant!" the Ranger said.
They waited to continue until out of the Studio. It was about a quarter sky mark till dusk and the moon shone full above them. Kargerran had Nilis lead the way, and he hung back to keep an eye on the Dreamer.
Vi said, "If you were arassi and did more than share food or a nice bottle of wine, it would be like saying we did something above and beyond. We didn't, and I'm the only one with ties to a high enough house to worry about gifts being a subtle insult. Gnomes and beast kin are pretty touchy about equaling out debts and would expect that whomever of you is acting as the head of your house would enter negotiations with the head of their house - in our case, that's Captain Karobreen, because we acted under the aegis of the Patrollers Talon."
Vi tapped a claw to his chin. "Taurgonauts don't hold non-taurs to the same standard, but if they felt that their lives had been saved by someone outside of their extended families, they would be honor bound to act as their savior's bodyguard for three years. The sergeant would be the one to decide to whom that debt was owed. Gidataurs have a reputation for being ruffians more because they're highly fatalistic and don't recognize life debts as often as the other taurgonauts. Add in their curiosity, wanderlust, and generally flippant outlook and you get their reputation for being lazy grifters."
"What about elves?" Roberto Garcias asked.
Vi and Kargerran laughed. Vi said, "They wouldn't acknowledge that they were ever in any danger, and would probably pretend that we had made a mess of some experiment of theirs. They might deign to throw a trinket our way to encourage good intentions, but it would be a fairly condescending affair."
"They sound like assholes," the newly transformed elf said with a grimace.
Vi shrugged. "It's a bit more complicated. Elves in general have a penchant for stoicism. Add to that, most of the elves on Malta are Dynasty Seekers, and arassi are descended from them and kobolds. The Dynasty Seekers have the bad habit of extending their 'parental role' to any of the races with elven blood in them, and their families are very controlling. There's some controversy over whether elves or humans are the original sapient race. Either way, they both have the distinction of being the Ancestral Races. Humans are just a lot more rare these days."
The young Ranger shook his head. "Sorry, side tracking there. The Observer faction of elves is more widespread across Rhofhir, but they tend to be very aloof. They run the Society of Chroniclers and Scribes, which means that they interact more with the wealthier merchants and more prominent Houses than the majority of the people. That makes a lot of people think of them as snooty."
Roberto Garcias got a thinking gleam to his gaze. "Hm. What faction do the Sun Elves belong to?"
"Isolationists," Vi said. "They mostly refuse to acknowledge the sapience of any race that came into existence after the Fifth Age and treat us like monsters. Not even mon-saps. That's a lot of why dealing with them is so painful."
"Ah. I see. Well, I appreciate the etiquette lesson, and I will make sure Candy-."
"Egg licker!" the shout cut off Roberto Garcias. It came from ahead of the procession, and Nilis was giving the sign to stop and form a defensive ring around their guests.
Roberto Garcias moved a few steps away from their formation, an odd weapon appearing in his hands. It looked like a pair of brass tubes (both as long as the elven Dreamer's arm) embedded in a wooden hilt, with an oddly fancy guard. Kargerran would have dismissed it as a decorative club if the Dreamer weren't supporting the double tubes with one hand, the other wrapped around the hilt with his fingers up against the guard. More surprising, force armor deployed around him, blurring his features without encompassing his weapon.
"What the …?" Perth said, distracted by the Dreamer.
"Eyes forward!" Kargerran snapped. They could talk after they dealt with what ever was coming toward them.
The shouting voice did not come closer, but sounded again. "You have no business keeping us from the dungeon! I don't care about your false claims, you're just thugs serving the merchants!"
The tirade continued, but Kargerran didn't need to hear more to know what was going on. "Nilis, Cord, Perth, you're with me," he ordered.
"What's happening?" one of the guests asked.
Another snorted and said, "Idiots are antagonizing the parandrians, I'd wager."
While Kargerran led half of his squad toward the shouting, the half-squad left behind moved to fill the gaps, the Dreamer stepping seamlessly into Perth's position.
The one thing about steppes that so many foreigners never stopped to wonder at was the height of the grasses. In some swaths, the grasses could reach three meters in height, though it was more common for the grasses to be between a meter to a meter and a half tall. Sure, in some patches shorter grasses held sway. Those were usually around bushes or brambles, or on some of the rockier slopes. Relatively flat land was just that - *relatively* flat, as in compared to the foothills and mountains. They still had hills, hidden by the monotonous blend of silver, green, and yellow grasses, and some of those hills had cliff-like sides.
Not wanting to be accused of sneaking up on the parandrians, if they were there, Kargerran made no effort to engage his [Stealth] skill. If it wasn't the parandrians blocking the shouter, then it was a problem for the Lotrot Patrollers to deal with, and stealth wasn't going to keep the violence down, though a show of confidence might.
They came around the hill blocking their view of the confrontation, and Kargerran wanted to cradle his forehead in his palm at the headache he beheld.
A handful of parandrian stags, led by two does, stood with spears casually on display while across from them a group of unarmed craftsmen - probably apprentices based on their youth - stood defensively around two full, covered hand carts. Most of the craftsmen were gnomes. Perhaps because of exposure, Kargerran found the gnome spokesman more intimidating than the lone gangly looking minotaur at the back, but he was pretty sure the only reason this group hadn't been executed out of hand came down to the lack of worthy fighters.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
After giving the order to sheath weapons, Kargerran took a deep breath and stepped forward.
"Pardon me," he said, leading his half-squad up to the side of the two groups. "What seems to be the problem?"
One of the does turned to look at them, her posture stiff with irritation. Some of that eased as she met Kargerran's gaze. "You are Patrollers?" she asked.
Kargerran nodded. "We are."
"These children do not wish to respect our territorial boundaries," the doe said.
The gnomish spokesman turned to him and demanded, "We have a right to go to the dungeon and-"
Kargerran stepped forward and picked the gnome up by his suspenders. "No!" he said. If the parandrians were going to give him the out of treating these youths as children, he would take it. They may not appreciate the humiliation they were about to receive, but he was sure their families would prefer them humiliated rather than dead.
The gnome's mouth gaped open, and when he took a breath to recover, Kargerran gave him a quick, calculated shake. "No," Kargerran repeated. "First, the City Council charged the Talons with controlling access to the new dungeon, as is standard practice. There are too many unknowns. As token bearing citizens of Lotrot, you are bound by the Council's decision. You are not members of the Talons and you have no escort, ergo you have no permission to go to the new dungeon.
"Second, the parandrians have abided by the terms of our treaties with them in establishing their camp at this location, so you are, in fact, trespassing on their territory. I have had to stand aside while they killed people for less cause than you've given them. They are very kindly permitting me the opportunity to spare your lives, so you and your friends are going to join us on our return to the city, where we will hand you over to the City Watch. Failure to comply is a crime, which can result in the revocation of your citizenship, in which case I have no obligation to protect you from your own gross stupidity. Are we clear?"
The gnome's face grew red during Kargerran's forceful speech. Anger was still his dominant emotion, and Kargerran was really not looking forward to the next step if the gnome failed to submit. As the gnome opened his mouth, the minotaur spoke up, her timid nature clearly reflected in her quavering voice.
"Please, I just want to go home. I never wanted to go to the dungeon, and I'm sure we can talk everything out if -."
"It's a duplicator dungeon!" the gnome in Kargerran's grip wailed as if that had any bearing.
"I don't care! It's a dungeon! They eat people!" the minotaur wailed back. "Besides, why isn't Master Thormtock with us? You said he gave the orders, but he wouldn't risk our citizenship! I think you lied to us!"
The gnome slipped over some edge of heated anger to a chilling rage. "Fine," he said, voice soft. "We'll go back, sort this out, and *you* can answer to the master."
The other members of their group all got sick expressions. Kargerran felt his headache bloom.
The parandrians silently withdrew into the grass, leaving almost no sign of their passage. How the stags, with their towering antlers, managed that Kargerran assigned to some kind of illusion magic.
The craftsmen docilely followed the Patrollers back to the rest of their guests, none of them inclined to speak. It was selfish of Kargerran, but he hoped they continued like that. The less he overheard, the less he had to write down in the day's report, and he already had more scroll work waiting for him than he cared to think about.
Roberto Garcias stayed around long enough to ensure that there was no immediate threat, then returned to the dungeon.
The gnome spokesman glared at the Dreamer's withdrawal. "So Long Ears get a pass to go to the new dungeon, but not regular citizens?" he sneered.
Kargerran's squad knew better than to engage that topic, but their guests didn't. "He lives there."
The gnome's jaw jutted forward, a pugnacious look twisting his face.
The guest, a drake around Vi's age, his scales dyed to match the Adventurers Guild's red and copper, snorted. "You really can't read the mana flows, can you? That was one of the Dreamers, not just any long ear."
"Who the sands are the dreamers?" the gnome asked, not ready to give up his grump.
"The dungeon is named the Studio of Capricious Dreams. Figure it out," the drake said.
One of the gnome's companions asked, "Who named it that?"
Kargerran felt his headache swell.
----------------------------------------
*~*~*
Kargerran's headache did not ease when he handed the craftsmen off to the City Watch. The Watch Captain requested that he and his squad return after completing their escort mission, and, despite being delayed by a trip *through the changing dungeon*, the lieutenant to whom he reported in sent them back to the Watch, barely giving his Rangers time to properly stow their samples.
That all meant that Kargerran was present when Crafts Master Thormtock, one of the more prominent alchemists in the city, came to collect his journeymen and apprentices.
Kargerran, Stylard, and Nilis had been asked to remain while the rest of their squad got to go back to the military ward. The three arassi were seated at different desks, facing City Watch scribes who insisted on being called Statement Clerks. Literacy was all well and good, and a part of Kargerran even admired the scribes for it. He had a passing familiarity with the written word, nothing like Vi, but enough to receive simple orders and verify the scribing quills took down his words about right in his reports. The Clerk taking his statement was one of the more affable ones, but not the gnelf with Nilis.
Kargerran held up one claw, turned to face his subordinate, and said, "Ranger Nilis, need I remind you that the Watch is a sister claw of the Patrollers Talons, whose members are subject to the same regulations as any Patroller?"
Nilis' scales started to rise, a look of indignation cramping his eyes, then the meaning behind Kargerran's words struck him and he straightened, his scales settling.
"Yes, sergeant," Nilis said. He took out a thumb sized mana stone and set it on the desk between himself and the surly gnelf taking his statement. He tapped a claw to the stone and said, "Please be informed, Statement Clerk Jillorny, that our conversation is being recorded from this point forward."
The gnelf got a sour look on his face, but said, "Acknowledged. Now, may we return to recording your statement?"
Kargerran turned back to the lupine scribe taking his statement, but before they had a chance to resume, the door leading to the reception room slammed open.
"Where are my apprentices!?" The bear kin filling up the doorway bellowed out his ire with his question.
The scribes ducked under their desks while Watchmen and Patrollers sprang to their feet, unsheathing weapons. The Watchmen held batons. Kargerran and Stylard had their daggers in hand, and shortswords softly wuffling out of their wooden scabbards. Nilis had his shortsword and a baton in hand.
The Watch Captain's door opened so fast it bounced back from the wall. The Captain shoved his shoulder into the ricocheting door, a baton in his off hand while a [Mana Bolt] glowed around his right hand.
Several minutes of angry shouting between the Watch Captain and the intruder established him as Master Alchemist Thormtock and that the master alchemist found the detention of his apprentices to be an unjust infringement upon their rights as citizens. Said apprentices were not in the room, which delayed the roaring bear kin long enough for the Watch Captain to step the tension down and get the bear kin into his office.
It took a few moments after Thormtock let himself be led into the Watch Captain's office for the Clerks to get back to taking their statements. Kargerran was finished first, with Nilis a close second. The Clerk working with Stylard had extra questions to go through due to his being a Medic. Most of the answers may have been "Not Applicable", but the scrollwork was what it was.
Kargerran wanted to be gone sooner. He had an itch about that bear kin and, frankly, he wanted as little to do with this mess as possible. The crafter's response held genuine fury, but something about it was too … theatrical, almost staged.
Thanks to the delay for the Medic questions, Kargerran and Nilis were seated in the receiving room, waiting for Stylard, when the Watch Captain led Thormtock toward the receptionist's counter.
"Elyar, please have Keint begin outprocessing the party the Patrollers brought in earlier." There was a tired frustration in the Watch Captain's expression as he said that which just made Kargerran's itch worse.
"It's a disgrace!" Thormtock said, clearly still ranting. "There was no call for those Patrollers to apprehend my apprentices! There has been ample time for the Adventurers Guild to explore and categorize the new dungeon! The merchants are just trying to keep us from it so they can continue charging their exorbitant fees for materials we could obtain far easier from the dungeon!"
The Watch Captain nodded. "Nevertheless, the City Council has placed the dungeon under military supervision until the next convocation of the General Assembly. Whether its fair or not is their concern. We don't get to chose which of the laws of the City we enforce. Did you consider requesting access through the Talons?"
"We should not have to do so!" the bear kin growled.
Nilis opened his mouth and Kargerran quickly stomped on his foot. The Ranger turned what ever he had intended to say into a cough, which was bad enough. It drew the bear kin's gaze. As he recognized the Patroller uniforms they wore he turned his ire in their direction. "Were you the ones who accosted my apprentices?" he demanded.
Kargerran said, "We were very grateful that the parandrians gave us the opportunity to remove a group of apprentices from their territory while they were still living. I hate having to deliver the news when any of our citizens, especially the younger ones, manage to get into fatal disputes with the tribesmen."
The bear kin sucked in a deep, quick breath.
Kargerran, letting his expression assume a regretful air, continued before the bear kin could speak. "They're quite taken with the Champion of Order the Grand Tapestry assigned to oversee the new dungeon, and I understand that there's been some delicate questions asked about how long they intend to camp so close to the dungeon. We take the safety of our citizens quite seriously, you know, and the tribesmen can be so very … prideful."
The Watch Captain blinked at Kargerran, looking surprised by the mention of the parandrians. The frustration tugging on his expression dissipated, replaced with a stoic horror that Kargerran shared.
*Sometimes you're the arrow and sometimes you're the bird's wing the arrow pierces.*