World Witout Wizards: Guard

Luck Check

Base 1

Bonus 0

Dice Roll 3

Requirement 3

Success

The woman was obviously nervous, she looked at the riders and then at the three of us. At the last moment, however, she made a decision and pointed her hand at me again; a blue flame blazed on her palm, but at that exact moment, a battle horn sounded loudly.

I never heard anything like it, my ears seemed to be plugged up. Enmyra smirked irritably and pulled her hand back, hiding it behind the feathers, then turned towards the approaching hors.e.m.e.n, and bowed her head.

The riders parted, and something came forward. At first, I thought that it was a monster engulfed in flames, but then the clouds of black smoke faded. Magic bike, I realized, though I'd never seen it before. The magic bike had only one wheel and two engines on both sides. When the bike stopped, a noble Lord got off the vehicle.

I was sure this was a noble gentleman standing before me. He had a weird outfit: it was expensive, ornate, embroidered with lace. The armor was hidden under an expensive cloth, his cap resembled a clock tower at the top. He had a flashlight instead of a wrist watch on his hand and wore strange glasses. But these accessories only complemented his regal appearance, good posture, physique and confident look of a warrior.

"Your Excellency," the woman in black bowed even lower, "I'm pleased to welcome you, though I dared not hope for such a meeting."

Luck Check

Base 1

Bonus 0

Dice Roll 2

Requirement 3

Success

"My lady Enmyra. You came after all." The stranger's voice was confident and clear, like his whole demeanor. "Was it you who killed all those monsters?"

I figured they might not get along very well. Maybe I might take advantage of it and get out of this mess. I nudged Lysandra. She bowed almost to the ground, I tried to do the same.

"Your Excellency, may I speak?" Lysandra asked. The noble warrior looked at me, at the warlock's disciple and at Vasilisa.

"What's the matter, guard? Are you afraid to talk to me?" the noble Lord asked mockingly.

"I'm badly wounded," I replied, straightening up.

"Really?" He looked at me quite differently and squinted.

I physically felt his gaze. He didn't just read the information about me in the MESSAGE but made some other unknown actions. I didn't see it, but I felt it.

"Lieutenant, bring the healer here! Now! My guard may die before he can serve me."

"Your Excellency, Baron?" I tried to stand on my feet and not fall to the ground. I was afraid to use the magic to read the MESSAGES about him; the warrior might consider it an insult, so I didn't dare look at him.

"You can lie down. Yes, it's me. You have five days before you are to enlist, but I accept you with all your sins and accomplishments under my care right now." he said casually, without hesitation.

Enmyra White was teeming with emotions at that moment. I thought she was very cunning.

Quest 'To Enlist' completed successfully

Award: acquiring the status of a Sergeant

You have received the junior officer rank of the HAND Army, serving under the command of Baron Strong Fist, Lord of the far North, Governor of his Imperial Majesty

Salary paid in monetary form and granted land holdings

"Well, girl, go on," he said softly, when the healer ran up to me, "and remember, I can tell if you're lying. If I don't, the magic will tell me."

"As you like, your Excellency. If I'm wrong, my master will correct me."

"Do you call him master?" the Baron looked once more at Lysandra, then at Vasilisa, and laughed. "Good man! I was thinking how to award you. I wanted to send you my maid so you can lose your v.i.r.g.i.n.i.t.y. And you've got two female slaves already! You've earned my respect. Congratulations."

"Sorry for interrupting you sir, but our master possesses not only me and Vasilisa," Lysandra bowed even lower, "He owns the property of the former chief Oulsast Dark."

"Really? Tell me more..."

"Oulsast Dark, the warlock and the Governor of the HAND in this village, gave everything that he had to my master before he died." Lysandra lifted my wounded arm, the magic weaver was shining through my skin. "He gave him everything including his power. Without the right of transfer to anyone and without the right of refusal."

"You're telling the truth," Riny thought and nodded. "I order and confirm that all the property of Oulsast Dark, movable and immovable, animate and inanimate, passes into the possession of Michael Greystle. All property transferred by the Treasury must be returned after the death of the official within seven days or redeemed by the successor at the appointed price. Go on."

You inherited property

Within seven days you must examine your property and pay all fines and taxes

List of property may be supplemented by any discoveries made on the owner's property, except those clearly belonging to other persons or the Empire

"My Lord fought the fanatics of the Sleeping god, using all means at his disposal. Some of them might be perceived by the magic as the Light spell, although they are not."

Luck Check

Base 1

Bonus 0

Dice Roll 4

Requirement 2

Perfect Success

"I accept this," the Baron nodded, smiling. "In the name of the HAND, I decree that no Light magic has been used within my possession. All assumptions were random. The similar magic of the Soul has been applied."

Congratulations, the charges of using Light magic have been dropped

Due to the gravity of the charges, you remain under the personal control of the privy Councilor for magicians, warlocks, sorcerers, and saints

I enjoyed looking at the woman's face. She blushed and even bit her lip of powerlessness and inability to cope with her own anger. The Lord of the far North destroyed all her plans in one sentence.

"Go on," Enmyra's behaviour clearly amused Riny, "now tell me about the battle."

"As you like, your Excellency." Lyska bowed and smiled victoriously. "In an unequal fight our master beat almost all cultists, fought and won the blood mage Zagreb Warakow, who turned into a Black Jaw. With the help of his faithful servants, the master managed to kill the head of the cult with his magic sword."

"He used neither fire-spitter, nor potions or hellebarde, but only his sword!" The Baron sneered. "I haven't seen so skillfull warriors for a long time. Could you show me the weapon?"

"Of course, your Excellency," I nodded and handed the Baron the Sacrificial sword, "this blade was forged especially for me."

"It's incredible! A unique sword like no other!"

Riny swung the sword a couple of times as if it were a walnut twig.

"It is lightweight, comfortable and made of superior steel."

"It was forged by Michael's father—Mr. John Greystle," Lysandra noticed immediately, "his mother Naomi Goldovirel enchanted it. They sell weapons to the inhabitants of the capital."

"The dwarf-elf Alliance?" the Baron asked. "You are really a unique guy! I hope I'll see them and place an order. I'll pay handsomely. If they can produce such a masterpiece for me personally, I'll pay five gold coins."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, your Excellency," Lysandra said, "their house burned down along with the forge. They disappeared... We didn't see any survivors, though, they may have fled from the massacre to the woods. Children and women cannot be accused of cowardice while meeting with such enemies."

"Really?" Riny waved my sword a couple of times, then struck a stone next to me. The blade rang, but didn't break, splitting the stone into two halves and remaining in the crack.

"Good steel. If you know the secrets, perhaps you'd be more useful to me as a blacksmith than a warrior." the Baron straightened his back. "The bodies should be identified and buried according to the traditions. Find the survivors. If there's still a chance to rebuild this village—do it. You must find out the cause of cult activity!"

We seemed to be no longer of interest to him. Giving orders, he went to his soldiers, confident in his strength and rightness. He was a real warrior and ruler. It was obvious that he didn't get his nickname—Strong Fist—for his love of metal gloves.