When Gregory gets close to the guards, they raise their spears and point them at him menacingly before he immediately stops mid stride and raises his hands innocently. “Might I introduce myself to your honorable selves. My name is Gregory the Wise and I am a prophet, diviner, healer, and most importantly, a powerful warlock. Unfortunately for me, I was assaulted last night while sleeping by these two bandits behind me and they have stolen everything from me. Look at them in their arrogance, flaunting their stolen goods right in front of you noble sirs, completely disregarding the laws of the kingdom. Might I suggest immediate execution and the return of my valuables? Those valuables will include that iron longsword the brown haired bandit is gaudily showing off. I inherited that blade from my great grandfather who was given the blade by the previous Nasaaran king. May his spirit rest in peace knowing the blade will be returned to me by your noble graces. It will also include a small pouch of coins I received from an elderly noblewoman as thanks for using my powers to allow her to speak with her deceased husband. The axe and shield were stolen as well and I received them from a dear companion of mine who was brutally slain by Ribierian soldiers. My companion used the last of his strength to hand me those items and seeing that red haired bandit holding them saddens my soul and my deceased companion’s spirit, which is right next to us, weeps in sorrow. I mean, just look at that red hair, it is obvious to me that he is a worshiper of Zephira, the evil blood goddess, as no living mortal can naturally have that hair.” The fucking blood goddess thing again? You have to be fucking kidding me. Is there a way I can change my own hair color? “The leather vest and pants are indeed not mine but I will take as recompense for their evil deeds. Do try to slay them without getting blood on my valuables however. Once again, I beg of you noble sirs to uphold the kingdom’s, no, our Nasaaran laws that protect the people and show the radiance of your noble graces.” Gregory finishes with a flourish. I am utterly awestruck. And so are the guards. They look over to me and I respond with a shrug.
One of them stays with Gregory while the younger one approaches us and asks, “What in the thousand burning hells is going on?”
“He might be insane. We’re not sure. He’s been doing that the whole time and I’m now realizing it might not be an act. Anyways, disregarding everything he said, he tried robbing us last night and I hit him in the face three times with a rock. He slept til dawn when we woke him up and brought him here. I don’t know what we’re meant to do with thieves and just hoped you guys could handle him.”
Sighing heavily, the guard rolls his eyes and looks at the leather armor I’m wearing as well as the shield in my hand before eyeing Wraine’s sword. “Alright, where’d you get all that stuff then?”
Here we go. “We’re both from Misanth and Ribierian soldiers attacked our village. Both of us hid in the forests until the next day. When we went to check the village, the whole place was burned down.” I gesture towards Wraine and say, “Wraine’s father, Alain, had a secret spot in the forest where he could hide and we went there, hoping he’d be alive. But when we got there, he was already dead with two soldiers dying slowly next to his body. We picked up the soldiers’ weapons and killed them. I got the axe and shield from the soldier I killed along with all his leather equipment. Wraine only got a sword and boots because he couldn’t control himself and slashed up his soldier’s leather vest and pants. I don’t know where that guy even came up with where he got this stuff but it’s all from dead Ribierians.” After finishing, I look towards Wraine and gesture with my eyes.
“Also, this is money I got from my village before it was burned down. I can even tell you that…” Wraine shifts his eyes towards Gregory and leans closer to the guard before saying softly, “... there’s 24 copper coins and 1 silver coin in here.”
The guard nods his head and takes the coin pouch, counting how many coins are in there slowly before returning it. He walks back over to Gregory before asking him, “If that’s your coin pouch, how many coins are inside it?”
Gregory looks surprised and says, “Why, I haven’t a clue. You should know I’ve been spending them here and there while traveling to Mountain’s Toil, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to survive out in the wilderness. You should ask them how they’ve survived during their journey, they undoubtedly robbed innocent refugees and used those stolen goods for themselves. Why are you looking at me like that? I am not the one standing trial here, it is them. Ask them about the sword, they probably don’t even know the previous Nasaaran king’s glorious name. Go on then, ask them.” The younger guard chuckled.
“Funny you say that. You see, when you were explaining where that sword came from and how it was an heirloom from the Nasaaran king of all people, I was over here wondering why a Nasaaran king, our glorious king as you’ve stated, would gift your great grandfather a Ribierian sword. I can tell it’s a Ribierian sword cause I’ve seen so damn many of them over these past weeks, you know? Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” The guard says with a wide smile on his face. Why’s he enjoying this so much?
“Well, taking a second look at it, that blade appears to be a different one from the one I was talking about. Yes, taking another glance, they are indeed different, my apologies. However, a Ribierian sword you say? Why, it’s obvious they are Ribierian soldiers disguised as bandits intent on murdering any fleeing refugees. Now that I’ve revealed their grand strategies, feel free to execute them as quickly as you can before they can escape and murder more innocent Nasaaran citizens.” Gregory finished looking quite pale. I can even see his forehead covered with sweat. It looks like I was worried last night over nothing. Although I never expected to run into such a madman.
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“No, you see, I’ve had a talk with them and I believe them for the most part. It’s you I don’t believe. You mentioned the sword and they’ve told me where it came from. You mentioned your coin pouch and they’ve told me where it came from and how many coins were in it. You even mentioned the axe and shield and told me they came from a friend, was your friend a Ribierian? Cause that shield sure does look Ribierian to me and why would a Ribierian soldier kill another Ribierian? See, it just doesn’t make sense. You came up to us calling them thieves and they’re over there calling you a thief. If that’s all it was, me and my partner here would tell all of you to shut the fuck up and move on.” The younger guard’s smile was growing larger. He’s really enjoying this for some reason. “But we have pretty solid stories from those two but nothing solid from you. You don’t know how many coins were in the pouch because you’ve been spending them. Alright, where’d you spend those coins?”
Gregory does not look good right now. I’d feel sorry for him if he just wasn’t such a motherfucker. “Well obviously I spent them in the larger towns and villages like Vilnau, Eastmoor, and Kent’s Stop during my travels.” Ah, I see where the guard’s going with this. The guard’s face lights up when he hears Eastmoor.
“Ah, Eastmoor! Amazing place, love it to death. Tell me, when’d you stop by there?”
“Oh, I was there two weeks ago, and you’re indeed correct, it’s a lovely little place.” Where did Gregory wander in from? If he’s seen any other village it should be obvious that the whole peninsula’s been burnt down. Did he come straight here from his own village without stopping anywhere else? There’s no way, how’d he even survive this whole time? But what about the other refugees? Did he think they all came from one village? Regardless, it looks like that was the wrong answer because the guard starts laughing loudly.
“Two weeks ago! I see, that’s great. That’s hilarious. Isn’t that hilarious Henry? You see, my partner here’s from Eastmoor and he came here with his family three weeks ago. He said the town’s been burnt to the ground. Funny, huh? Now tell me, Gregory, mind if I call you Greg? Tell me, Greg, you’re telling me you spent the night at Eastmoor two weeks ago while Henry’s telling me Eastmoor was burnt to the ground three weeks ago, who do you think I should believe? Did you sleep in the burnt rubble? Who’d you pay? The dead innkeeper? I want to believe you Greg, I really do. But over there we have two kids telling me you’re crazy. They’re telling me that you’re a crazy, lying thief. Can you believe that? And over here we have Henry telling me you’re a liar too? That’s three against one, Greg. The numbers aren’t in your favor buddy, sorry.” The younger guard wraps his arm around Gregory’s, err, Greg’s shoulders like an old friend would. This guy seems like he’s not all there in the head either, how the hell is he a guard? “Don’t worry buddy, we’re not gonna off ya. Nah, we have something more important for you to do. See all these people around us? All of them are refugees and to take care of all these people, we need a lot of workers, right? You see where I’m going with this Greg? Don’t worry Greg, Henry here’ll show you where you’re gonna be working from now on. You’ll get along great with all the others there. Be sure to tell them you’re a warlock too, they’ll love that.”
The other, older guard, apparently named Henry, leads Gregory towards one of the refugee camps on the right side of the gate and before long, they disappear behind a crowd of people. Rest in peace, Gregory, you beautiful madman. After seeing them off, the younger guard walks back over to us. Now that Gregory’s taken care of and I have the leisure to inspect the guard, even though he’s younger than the other guard, he can’t be that much older than us. If I had to give a guess, I’d say he’s in his early 20’s. However, Gregory did mention he was 22 winters old as well, though I’m not sure I should believe anything he said. The guard is dressed in simple leathers just like the Ribierian soldiers were, however, his leather vest has metal studs around where the top cuts off near his arms and his waist. He’s not wearing anything on his head and his dirty blonde hair looks unkempt. Although, his thin matching beard looks well taken care of. He has pale blue eyes that inspect the both of us while we do the same to him. His gaze seems attracted to me, rather, it’s attracted to my right hand in particular. Following his gaze, I see my right hand holding the axe, covered in dried blood. Oh, from the rock.
“Like I told you before, I had to hit Greg with a rock because when I first woke up, my axe and shield were missing. I didn’t try going back to sleep after I knocked him out and just watched over him until dawn in case he woke back up. Haven’t even had the time to wash my hands.” When I finish speaking, the guard looks straight into my eyes with a piercing gaze. Surprised by the contrast between his lazy look while he was walking towards us and this incredibly focused glare, I flinch in surprise.
“Hmm. Sure, sure, I believe you. Just a few things. You said you found that axe on a Ribierian Soldier right? Why would a Ribierian be using a Nasaaran woodcutting axe as a weapon? I’m also assuming, if you did, as you’ve said, killed two Ribierian soldiers on the verge of death, you’d want to take everything you can from the bodies. You’ve said the dark haired one over there lost his temper and tore through both a leather vest and pants, ruining them beyond use. I don’t believe you. So tell me, why don’t these numbers make sense to me? Two bodies, one longsword, one cracked shield, one Nasaaran axe used for wood, one Ribierian leather vest, one pair of Ribierian leather pants, one pair of Ribierian leather boots, and finally, one pair of Nasaaran leather boots that you lied about being Ribierian. Why don’t you go ahead and clear all that up for me?” Hearing him speak sends shivers down my spine. How did he do that? How could he even know what country a pair of leather boots are from just by looking at them? I can’t look at Wraine right now because that will only just make us more suspicious. It’s time to come clean.
Sighing heavily, I put on my best worried expression I can make and I think of all the saddest things I can think of to make sure I sound regretful, “Okay, we lied. When we found Wraine’s dad dead along with a dead soldier, we thought we could be heroes if we said we each killed a soldier. This axe is Wraine’s dad’s axe and I found this shield left behind in a ditch in the nearby forest, probably because of the huge crack. I’m wearing all the soldier’s leather clothes because Wraine didn’t want to wear it. Wraine’s wearing his dad’s boots too but please don’t be mad at him, I made him put them on because walking here all the way from Misanth would be painful without good boots. We’re sorry sir, we were just scared because we didn’t know what to do after the village was burned down.” By the end of it, my eyes were filled with tears and I kept my gaze on the ground, making it seem like I was trying to hide them. This trick didn’t work on Augustine, not one bit. If anything, if he saw any of his slaves acting like this, oh boy, the beating they would get would keep them in bed for a month. Rather, this trick was perfect for the other villagers when I wanted to beg for food or when I begged them to not tell Augustine about something I did. Still keeping my eyes directed at the ground, I wait for my moment of glory.
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