Theft, Murder, and Crystals

by Benjamin Duke

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. The Guild of Sworn Blades operate according to the laws of this city, as is our custom. The use of magic is not only illegal but could bring about the wrath of Kalimar. I do not know how you are doing this, but just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

  “Like hell we’re refusing!” Valkhorn screamed. A few of the other men echoed his sentiment. “The moment people realize we have magically powered warriors, we’ll be the number one guild in the city again!”

  “No, we’ll be outlawed and then banned from practicing business in Glimmer,” Minser retorted. “Gentlemen, we must operate according to Guild la- “

  “To hell with Guild Law and to hell with you, scribe!” Valkhorn shouted. “I quit.” He drew his axe from his side and threw it onto the ground. “You, Samuel, come with me.” The mercenary stormed up to Samuel and grabbed him by the wrist. “I’ll have plenty of business for someone like you.”

  “You’re playing with fire,” Thannik shouted as Valkhorn dragged Samuel out of the room. A few other men began to leave, throwing their weapons and shields to the floor. “Don’t think Kalimar’s Elite will spare any of you from a grim fate,” the leader called.

  “Grim fate, my ass,” Valkhorn grumbled as they made their way into the courtyard. He released Samuel’s wrist and looked at him. “Strength, speed and immunity to being pierced by blade or arrow. How much for all of that?”

  Samuel grinned as he saw six other men come up behind their new leader. “My rates are fairly decent, two thousand gold pieces per crystal. Each crystal lasts for eight hours and can be used once per day without losing its energy.”

  “Two thousand?” one of the young pups, Tadmin gasped. A few of the older mercenaries laughed at that.

  “An easy enough order. I want enough for the seven of us here. I’m not going to bother doing the math on that,” Valkhorn replied.

  “That would be uh, 42,000 gold pieces, uh, sir,” the salesman stammered.

  “You see this belt?” Valkhorn asked as he pointed to the gold buckled leather belt wrapped around his waist. “It was once able to let me fly in short bursts. Sometimes it even absorbed bolts of lightning. Now? Now it’s a 60,000 gold piece fashion accessory. And it doesn’t even look that good on me. You bring me stuff that works, and money will never be a problem.” He stretched his hand out and Samuel was quick to shake it. “But let’s get one thing clear. If the city guard come round, asking about who’s getting what, I suggest you kindly not mention the band of heavily armed men who have eyes everywhere. Got it?”

  “Of course,” Samuel said, “mum’s the word.”

  “Come on boys, we’ve got a new guild to start,” Valkhorn shouted as he began to walk toward the gate leading back into the city.

  “What are we gonna call ourselves?” Tadmin asked.

  “Whatever the hell we want, we’ll be the only ones left after we get our new products in,” Valkhorn laughed. “It’s a brand new day for us!”

  Chapter 9:

  The destruction was awe inspiring. At least, that’s all Elias could think as he surveyed the wreckage. A local tavern in the upper-class Mermaid District had seen a battle of epic proportions. The lead investigator, Captain Lewis Markov, shook his head as his men pulled yet another body out of the rubble.

  “What happened?” Elias asked as he approached the scene.

  “A barfight, apparently,” Markov replied. “Although how they managed to destroy all of the load bearing walls of the structure is beyond me.”

  “Rockmen, perhaps?”

  “There are four Stonemar who live in this city, last time I checked out immigration records. I sent my detectives out this morning to check in on them. All had alibis. Besides, Stonemar aren’t known to get into these kinds of fights,” Markov said. He crossed his arms and sighed. “No witnesses are talking either. One woman said it was a bar fight and refused to share any more on the subject.”

  “Hey, this one’s still alive!” One of the city guards shouted. He pointed to the body of a stocky man, wearing steel armor. He was writhing a little but appeared to be conscious.

  “Do you want to talk to him?” Markov asked.

  “You don’t know? I was removed from my position as Magisterial Councilman, I don’t work for the government anymore,” Elias replied. “I can’t help you with this.”

  “Well, you’re being deputized,” Markov replied. “There was a reason I sent for you.”

  “I’m a bureaucrat, not a detective,” Elias protested. He and Captain Markov went way back, with the Captain actively feeding Elias with all sorts of street level information about how Magistrate policies affected the people. Elias would reciprocate by protecting the City Watch’s funds from being siphoned by the incumbent Treasurer, as was often the Glimmer Magisterial tradition.

  “Yeah, and my guys have reported you wandering the city aimlessly for almost a week. I can’t have you homeless and destitute. At the very least, let me give you a job.”

  Elias shrugged. “My rates are impossible to afford.”

  “Any rate would be impossible to afford with our budget,” Markov replied. “I didn’t realize how important your job was until after I got notice of our new wages. Most of the resources are going to the Kalimar Elite Honor Guard.”

  “Sir, he’s stable and awake,” one of the paramedics shouted.

  “Come on, let’s see what’s up,” Markov said, gesturing towards the wounded man. Elias sighed. The only thing worse than poverty was being given a job out of pity. Still, pride didn’t buy bread. He nodded and walked alongside the captain, wondering how the hell he would be of any use in an investigation like this.

  “Alright, talk,” Markov growled, his demeanor shifting quickly. The calm, softness in his face was gone and instead all Elias could see was a hardened fighter who lived each day on the mean streets of a cold and brutal city.

  “I ain’t got nothing to say,” the man replied. “But you wouldn’t mind unclasping my armor? I can’t quite move and I’m not sure if my armor is stuck or if I’m paralyzed.”

  Markov nodded at Elias, who was quick to kneel down and begin unbuckling the leather straps that kept the armor together. At least this was something he knew how to do, after all, everyone who served in the Magistrate had a set of glorious ceremonial armor. Now his were undoubtedly in some pawnshop, sold off to line the pockets of Councilman Ike.

  “That’s better,” the man said as Elias pulled the breastplate free from his body. He rolled around a little and stretched. “I can move, so that’s an improvement. Legs are still broke though.”

  “Name?” Markov asked.

  The man scowled. “I didn’t do nothing wrong.”

  “Actually, sir, under the current laws, fighting in the Mermaid District carries a steep jail sentence,” Elias said. “But if you didn’t start the fight, then it was simply self-defense.”

  “Oh, well in that case, yeah, I definitely didn’t start the fight,” the man replied.

  “So, you admit you were in the fight?” Markov asked.

  “Ah damn it,” the man growled. “Yeah, fine. My name is Siric. I work for the Great Axes. We’re assigned to watching the Gemcrafters down the street.”

  “Mercenaries?”

  “I prefer the term private security,” Siric replied. “But yeah, we aren’t big, but we have some good relationships with the Maelian Family, so they use us to keep an eye on their various business ventures.”

  Markov stroked his mustache. “So, you and your boys were having a few too many at your regular place and then what? Someone accidentally breaks out a sledgehammer and start smashing walls?”

  Siric’s face grew dark. “I’m afraid I have nothing to say about this matter. I was acting in self-defense.”

  Markov chuckled and began to dig his knee into Siric’s ribcage, causing the man to gasp in pain. “Look, pal. There are only two roads we can go down here. Either we haul your ass to jail and lock you up for instigati
ng a fight, or you tell us who did this.”

  “It was another mercenary group” Elias said.

  Markov turned to look at him. “What?”

  “It must have been. The Great Axes are good people, but like all mercenary guilds, they prefer to settle their differences with other groups without aid from the police. An altercation must have led to this fight. Hence why Siric here refuses to tell the truth.”

  “Is he on to something here?” Markov asked.

  Siric scowled at that. “I have nothing else to say on the matter,” he repeated.

  Markov chuckled. “Good man,” he said, drawing his knee back and standing to his feet. “Just make sure you keep civilians out of your retribution. If I trace one innocent death to your guild’s reprisal, I will see all of you hanged.”

  “Perish the thought of the innocent getting hurt,” Siric growled. “But thanks for understanding.”

  “Have a good day, citizen,” Markov replied as he turned to walk off. Elias followed after him. That had been rather unexpected.

  “Sir, don’t we want to find out who did it?”

  “If he told us, and we arrested the perpetrators, you know what’s going to happen?” Markov asked. “Think it through.”

  Elias shrugged. “The guilds will know not to fight each other?”

  “Come on, you can’t be that dense,” Markov replied. “You figured out his reluctance to talk, right? Why wouldn’t he give his assailants up willingly?”

  “Because he wants revenge?”

  “It has nothing to do with revenge, my friend. If we arrest his guild’s attackers, everyone else will see the Great Axes as weak for not handling it themselves. That means, no matter what we do, someone like Siric won’t talk. We’re better off letting them handle the problem themselves.”

  “The law is very clear on street justice,” Elias said. “Are we not to adhere to it?”

  “Letter and the spirit, my friend. Two different things. My policy is to let guilds handle guild affairs. Besides, a war might give them something to do. Too many malcontents just sitting around lately.”

  “I don’t care for your plan,” Elias grumbled. “We could at least keep investigating.”

  “We? You still want to work for me?”

  “I don’t understand why you’re trying to hire me in the first place,” Elias admitted. “But I’ll take whatever work I can find.”

  “Good. That’s what I want to hear,” Markov said. “Because I didn’t call you here to question some thug. I have something else in mind for you. This destroyed tavern was clearly the work of magic.”

  Elias felt a tingle run down his spine. “You think so?”

  “All the signs point to it. I’ve gotten a few reports, here and there. A construction worker carrying stuff that looked too heavy, a messenger running just a little too fast. Little bits and pieces. All of it pointing to one thing: someone’s figured out how to keep magic flowing.”

  “I’ve witnessed supernatural acts too,” Elias murmured. The reason he had been wandering the city wasn’t because he was in a listless state, but rather he had been searching for some kind of clue leading to this source of magic. But Glimmer was a giant city and he had no idea of how to find whoever was behind this.

  “I’m recruiting a few people, people I can trust to be my eyes and ears. People who aren’t like the city watch. Glimmerites have grown suspicious of the government lately, at least, more suspicious than usual. I need people that I can trust to keep me informed about this magic.”

  “You want me to be a snitch?”

  “No. I want you to be an investigator but keep your affiliation to yourself.”

  “Why me?” Elias asked.

  “Because, you care about this city as much as I do. I’m not worried about magic, my friend. I’m worried about who has access to it. If the wrong people are able to wield it, Glimmer could be in serious danger. And if it gets out of hand, well…Kalimar’s Hordes have not acted kindly to those who defied their laws.”

  Elias nodded. “I understand. I’ll do my best. Do you have any leads for me?”

  “This is our first big one,” Markov said, pointing the rubble. “A mercenary company. Go make some visits, talk to some people. Get me information.”

  “Very well,” Elias said. He felt his heart soar a little. He had not seen this development coming his way. But with a lead pointing him to this source of magic, things were looking up. He wondered, if when the time came, Captain Markov would support his plan to use this magic for Glimmer’s benefit. He hoped so, it would be very unfortunate to have to lie to the Captain about his investigation. But if there was one thing Elias was good at, it was telling a lie with a straight face. After all, he had been working for the government his entire life.

  Chapter 10:

  Cimir and Samuel stood in front of a beautiful house. Glimmer, known for its sprawling towers and tightly packed apartments, did have a rural area, mostly in the farmlands on the edge of the city. Known as the Garden District, the farmlands were full of expensive ranches, houses and manors that only the wealthy were able to afford. Most of the landowners rented out these homes to farmers, allowing them to work the land in exchange for a percentage of the profits. Sometimes the arrangements were advantageous for the farmers, but most of the time it was not.

  “What do you think?” Samuel said, spreading his arms wide. The house had two levels, dozens of windows and a little wooden sign hanging from the front door that said, “Happiness and Joy.”

  “It looks nice,” Cimir lied. He hated everything about the structure, but if Samuel was showing him this place, it meant he had already purchased it and would insist they live there.

  “And it’s ours!” Samuel chuckled as he pulled out the key to the place. “I bought it this morning.”

  “How much?” Cimir asked as they approached the building.

  “One custom order for a very concerned customer,” Samuel said as he unlocked the door. The hinges creaked a little as the door swung open, revealing an open floor inviting them in.

  “Oh?” Cimir asked. That much was exciting at least. He had grown bored with enhancement spells already. They were all the same, speed, strength, stamina. All required the same type of enchanting ritual. Cimir was beginning to crave a challenge in his art.

  “The guy’s son is really, really sick. Like, might not make it to the next harvest sick. Get this, he comes to me, offers me anything to get a curative spell. Babbles about being a landlord and having money and means, so I ask for a house. Bam. Hands me the keys. I think the kid has the Yellow Eyes, something like that,” Samuel mumbled as he kicked his boots off. Each one flew from his shaking foot and landed in the center of the empty living room, causing a loud thud to echo.

  “Sick?” Cimir repeated. “And you…you charged him? I can cure him no problem, I just need a few minutes. Why would…why would you charge him?”

  “Look, relax. He started with offering me anything. Okay? So, what, I’m just gonna put my pricing structure aside cause he spins me a sob story?” Samuel said as he walked around the room, the floors creaking a little with each step. “It’s not like I wasn’t gonna help him at any price.”

  “It’s unethical,” Cimir said. “You can’t charge people to heal them.”

  “Why not? Let’s use a sliding scale. Beggars and orphans get free crystals, and rich landowning assholes have to give us their houses,” Samuel said. He plopped down on the ground and leaned back. “Need some furniture in here.”

  Cimir growled. There were many thoughts echoing in his head. He began to hiss, speaking in the High Tongue of the Serpentines. “Son of a bitch, thieving monster of a man, should be eaten by his own children,” he hissed.

  “Aw, don’t speak in that weird language,” Samuel replied. “You know it’s creepy as hell. Cimir let loose a few more swears and hexes of his people before reverting back to the common tongue.

  “You’re giving this house back. We won’t take money or gifts for h
ealing,” he said as he turned to leave the house.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whatever happened to free trade?” Samuel said as he hopped back to his feet and followed after Cimir.

  “I agreed to this scheme because you said it would make us rich. Now, we’re richer than ever and you still want more?”

  “Hey, we’re rich by poor people’s standards, but if you want to move into the Mermaid District, we got a long ways to go,” Samuel protested.

  Cimir growled and wagged a finger at the man, hissing a little more, then repeating himself in a language Samuel could grasp. “I don’t care about getting rich if it means we’re profiting of the backs of those who are dying. That’s why we agreed to no weapons. It…it never occurred to me that you would try to charge the sick. We will not profit off the misery of other people.”