Previous: Forever Guardian, Post 8
(Content Warning: Violence)
Gix rolled his eyes in an exaggerated gesture and made a choking motion with his hands toward the guard who stood, oblivious to his presence, not ten feet away. "Unreal," he mumbled quietly in disbelief and still the guard took no notice. Gix wondered if he had fallen into Trance. Perhaps the guard wasn't elven at all and had fallen fully into slumber. It was difficult to see, under that silly ornate helm high elven guards wore, if he had the telltale pointy ears that Gix himself shared. Well, sort of, anyway. Only Gix's father was of elven descent. Still, it'd be a pretty neat trick to see anyone who wasn't full blooded elf in that get up. Maybe the helmet had too much padding? Gix was forced to conclude that he had unluckily picked either the deafest guard on Corlesai or the densest.
Sighing heavily, the young half-elf cast about for a sizable branch. Seeing one nearby, he walked boldly over too it, right out in the open, and tugged it free from the underbrush. He only had to wrestle with it for a second but he made enough noise to raise the dead. Still, the guard took no notice and Gix wondered if perhaps he had died standing up. He slumped momentarily, nonplussed. Propping the branch briefly against his thigh, he slipped a wide black ribbon from around his wrist and used it to tie his thick, golden hair into a short ponytail. His deep violet eyes fairly glowed with irritation as he stared daggers into the unaware guard's back. He straightened his leathers and ran a quick check over his weaponry, all peacebonded except for the thin dagger hidden in his boot. Easily broken, if need be, but Gix hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Everything settled and ready, the short, spry half-elf carried the branch right up behind the worst guard in the world, placed it firmly upon the ground, and stamped down on it as hard as he could. The branch snapped in half with a crack that sounded like lightning in the quiet of the approaching dawn. The guard yelped involuntarily and spun around, sputtering, "Huh...Halt! Identify yourself!" He seemed even more surprised by Gix's close proximity and took an unconscious step backward.
Gix raised his hands in a non threatening gesture to show that they were empty and tried to keep an amused smirk from stealing across his lips. "Oh, no, you got me," he deadpanned. Several other guards bled into view across the large open platform. One stood out from among the others, a red officer's plume spouting from the top of his high guard helm, and this one strode forward.
"Stand down, soldier." The sentry, for lack of a better term, clumsily snapped to attention and stood to one side as his commander gracefully came to a stop before Gix. The high guard officer towered over the much smaller half elf but then, Gix was all too used to the sensation. Most everyone towered over him. It didn't intimidate him much. "Who are you?" the officer demanded, "And what are you doing here? This is a restricted area."
"Gosh, I'm sorry," Gix smiled all too innocently as he ignored the officer's first question, "I was at the party a few levels down and I guess I must have gotten lost looking for the facilities." The officer looked doubtful, which Gix supposed was all too fair considering his delivery of the lie held not one ounce of sincerity. "It's okay, though," he continued casually, "Commander Beauchene is a good friend of mine. He can vouch for me."
The officer looked taken aback for a moment, then smiled a slow, nasty smile. "Well, that's funny, half-breed. I am Commander Beauchene and it seems the strangest thing that I have never clapped eyes on you ever before. Old friend."
Gix instantly lost his flippant attitude, his own grin taking on a more dangerous cast. In his arrogance, the Commander did not notice the shift in Gix's demeanor nor his stance. Gix planted his feet more firmly, shoulder width apart, and turned ever so slightly to the side. "You are Elaethan Beauchene?"
"Why yes, I am," the Commander replied haughtily, "And I must ask again...who...are...you?" The High Guard Commander loomed over Gix as he punctuated his words, clearly aiming to intimidate. Gix, however, had long ago lost the ability to be threatened by bullies. Along with much of his other fear responses, it seemed. That's part of what made Gix so good as his job. He was reckless beyond reason. Many of his fellows thought he might just be crazy. And who knew, Gix thought, maybe he was. So instead of shaking, cowering, and stammering out a weakly voiced response as expected, Gix spoke in the strong, clear voice of proclamation, much to the Commander's surprise. "Elaethan Beauchene, High Guard Commander of the House of Oak, you are charged with crimes against the Valeisian Empire and her citizens. My name is Gix Anarchis. The responsibility of your custody and the transportation of your person unto the supervision of a Supreme Judge of the Valeisian Grand Courts has been remanded to me under the extradition treaty currently upheld between the Corlesairan Sovereignty and the Valeisian Empire."
Several members of the present guard gasped in audible surprise. The Commander's shock faded rapidly into amusement. He began to chuckle. "Bounty hunter? You?"
"You have been notified," Gix said more quietly, "please tell me you won't go peacefully."
This seemed to amuse the Commander even more, who began to belly laugh. Between sobs of laughter, he asked, "And...it's just you? All alone?" More laughter. "You think...you can just walk into...a military operation and...abscond with the commanding officer? You think...they will just...let you even try?" The Commander swept his hand around to indicate his men, clutching at his side with the other hand.
"Yep," Gix noted smugly as he produced a bound scroll and handed it in the direction of the obviously freshly recruited guard he had been stalking earlier. The guard looked stricken but reached out a shaking hand to take the scroll and unfurl it. Another, clearly superior, guard snatched it from his hands and read silently to himself for a moment. "My warrant is valid."
Commander Beauchene couldn't even bring himself to speak anymore. He stood away and wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes, and tried to regain control of his breathing. The possibly second in command handed the warrant back, casting a worried look in the direction of his superior, and replied coldly, "It's not going to happen, Anarchis. Treaty or no treaty. You have no witness and therefore no way to make the arrest stick." The higher ranked guard, a sergeant perhaps, turned his look back on Gix. "You aren't taking him."
Gix smiled, genuinely this time. "Oh, but I am."
The soldier stood resolute. "You can't possibly take all of us." The green recruit threw a fearful look toward his superior.
"I don't need to," Gix noted confidently, "I am at least partially of elven descent and, whether you all like it or not, I claim Corlesairan birthright." The Commander's chuckling began to slowly fade as the realization of the statement's meaning took hold of them all. Gix unhooked the ridiculous greatsword from his back and held the peacebonded pommel toward the sergeant. "No one here would stand against me, surely, if I challenged this man on the account of Honor. You read his crimes, Sergeant. If even half of them are true, you know I have grounds. I'd implore you to consider the Imperial Seal there." Gix gestured at the bottom of the scroll, which was stamped very officially. The Commander had stopped laughing. His countenance grew deadly serious. Gix continued, unperturbed. "I believe you're obligated to release my weapon at this point, Sergeant."
The officer hesitated only a moment. Then, with a frustrated sigh, drew his dagger and cut the cord lashing sword to scabbard. Commander Beauchene's brow furrowed at this but his second in command would not meet his eye as he and the rest of the guard stepped away to the edges of the platform. "No matter," the contemptuous Commander spat, "You'll leave here in pieces. I'm willing to bet you can't even lift that thing, let alone fight with it."
Gix said nothing. He merely reached down inside, to that instinctive, eldritch part of himself, and drew forth his magic. It coursed through his veins like a shot of adrenaline. Every hair stood on end, every sensation felt heightened. He could feel the bodies around him and the boards of the treetop platform shifting beneath their weight. He could feel the wind buffeting the branches and the cold leather grip of the greatsword in his palm, a veritable extension of his own arm now. He raised the sword, nearly as big as his own body, with one hand and gave it an experimental whirl.
The Commander's eyes widened in shock as Gix danced forward on the balls of his feet.
(Content Warning: Violence)
Gix rolled his eyes in an exaggerated gesture and made a choking motion with his hands toward the guard who stood, oblivious to his presence, not ten feet away. "Unreal," he mumbled quietly in disbelief and still the guard took no notice. Gix wondered if he had fallen into Trance. Perhaps the guard wasn't elven at all and had fallen fully into slumber. It was difficult to see, under that silly ornate helm high elven guards wore, if he had the telltale pointy ears that Gix himself shared. Well, sort of, anyway. Only Gix's father was of elven descent. Still, it'd be a pretty neat trick to see anyone who wasn't full blooded elf in that get up. Maybe the helmet had too much padding? Gix was forced to conclude that he had unluckily picked either the deafest guard on Corlesai or the densest.
Sighing heavily, the young half-elf cast about for a sizable branch. Seeing one nearby, he walked boldly over too it, right out in the open, and tugged it free from the underbrush. He only had to wrestle with it for a second but he made enough noise to raise the dead. Still, the guard took no notice and Gix wondered if perhaps he had died standing up. He slumped momentarily, nonplussed. Propping the branch briefly against his thigh, he slipped a wide black ribbon from around his wrist and used it to tie his thick, golden hair into a short ponytail. His deep violet eyes fairly glowed with irritation as he stared daggers into the unaware guard's back. He straightened his leathers and ran a quick check over his weaponry, all peacebonded except for the thin dagger hidden in his boot. Easily broken, if need be, but Gix hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Everything settled and ready, the short, spry half-elf carried the branch right up behind the worst guard in the world, placed it firmly upon the ground, and stamped down on it as hard as he could. The branch snapped in half with a crack that sounded like lightning in the quiet of the approaching dawn. The guard yelped involuntarily and spun around, sputtering, "Huh...Halt! Identify yourself!" He seemed even more surprised by Gix's close proximity and took an unconscious step backward.
Gix raised his hands in a non threatening gesture to show that they were empty and tried to keep an amused smirk from stealing across his lips. "Oh, no, you got me," he deadpanned. Several other guards bled into view across the large open platform. One stood out from among the others, a red officer's plume spouting from the top of his high guard helm, and this one strode forward.
"Stand down, soldier." The sentry, for lack of a better term, clumsily snapped to attention and stood to one side as his commander gracefully came to a stop before Gix. The high guard officer towered over the much smaller half elf but then, Gix was all too used to the sensation. Most everyone towered over him. It didn't intimidate him much. "Who are you?" the officer demanded, "And what are you doing here? This is a restricted area."
"Gosh, I'm sorry," Gix smiled all too innocently as he ignored the officer's first question, "I was at the party a few levels down and I guess I must have gotten lost looking for the facilities." The officer looked doubtful, which Gix supposed was all too fair considering his delivery of the lie held not one ounce of sincerity. "It's okay, though," he continued casually, "Commander Beauchene is a good friend of mine. He can vouch for me."
The officer looked taken aback for a moment, then smiled a slow, nasty smile. "Well, that's funny, half-breed. I am Commander Beauchene and it seems the strangest thing that I have never clapped eyes on you ever before. Old friend."
Gix instantly lost his flippant attitude, his own grin taking on a more dangerous cast. In his arrogance, the Commander did not notice the shift in Gix's demeanor nor his stance. Gix planted his feet more firmly, shoulder width apart, and turned ever so slightly to the side. "You are Elaethan Beauchene?"
"Why yes, I am," the Commander replied haughtily, "And I must ask again...who...are...you?" The High Guard Commander loomed over Gix as he punctuated his words, clearly aiming to intimidate. Gix, however, had long ago lost the ability to be threatened by bullies. Along with much of his other fear responses, it seemed. That's part of what made Gix so good as his job. He was reckless beyond reason. Many of his fellows thought he might just be crazy. And who knew, Gix thought, maybe he was. So instead of shaking, cowering, and stammering out a weakly voiced response as expected, Gix spoke in the strong, clear voice of proclamation, much to the Commander's surprise. "Elaethan Beauchene, High Guard Commander of the House of Oak, you are charged with crimes against the Valeisian Empire and her citizens. My name is Gix Anarchis. The responsibility of your custody and the transportation of your person unto the supervision of a Supreme Judge of the Valeisian Grand Courts has been remanded to me under the extradition treaty currently upheld between the Corlesairan Sovereignty and the Valeisian Empire."
Several members of the present guard gasped in audible surprise. The Commander's shock faded rapidly into amusement. He began to chuckle. "Bounty hunter? You?"
"You have been notified," Gix said more quietly, "please tell me you won't go peacefully."
This seemed to amuse the Commander even more, who began to belly laugh. Between sobs of laughter, he asked, "And...it's just you? All alone?" More laughter. "You think...you can just walk into...a military operation and...abscond with the commanding officer? You think...they will just...let you even try?" The Commander swept his hand around to indicate his men, clutching at his side with the other hand.
"Yep," Gix noted smugly as he produced a bound scroll and handed it in the direction of the obviously freshly recruited guard he had been stalking earlier. The guard looked stricken but reached out a shaking hand to take the scroll and unfurl it. Another, clearly superior, guard snatched it from his hands and read silently to himself for a moment. "My warrant is valid."
Commander Beauchene couldn't even bring himself to speak anymore. He stood away and wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes, and tried to regain control of his breathing. The possibly second in command handed the warrant back, casting a worried look in the direction of his superior, and replied coldly, "It's not going to happen, Anarchis. Treaty or no treaty. You have no witness and therefore no way to make the arrest stick." The higher ranked guard, a sergeant perhaps, turned his look back on Gix. "You aren't taking him."
Gix smiled, genuinely this time. "Oh, but I am."
The soldier stood resolute. "You can't possibly take all of us." The green recruit threw a fearful look toward his superior.
"I don't need to," Gix noted confidently, "I am at least partially of elven descent and, whether you all like it or not, I claim Corlesairan birthright." The Commander's chuckling began to slowly fade as the realization of the statement's meaning took hold of them all. Gix unhooked the ridiculous greatsword from his back and held the peacebonded pommel toward the sergeant. "No one here would stand against me, surely, if I challenged this man on the account of Honor. You read his crimes, Sergeant. If even half of them are true, you know I have grounds. I'd implore you to consider the Imperial Seal there." Gix gestured at the bottom of the scroll, which was stamped very officially. The Commander had stopped laughing. His countenance grew deadly serious. Gix continued, unperturbed. "I believe you're obligated to release my weapon at this point, Sergeant."
The officer hesitated only a moment. Then, with a frustrated sigh, drew his dagger and cut the cord lashing sword to scabbard. Commander Beauchene's brow furrowed at this but his second in command would not meet his eye as he and the rest of the guard stepped away to the edges of the platform. "No matter," the contemptuous Commander spat, "You'll leave here in pieces. I'm willing to bet you can't even lift that thing, let alone fight with it."
Gix said nothing. He merely reached down inside, to that instinctive, eldritch part of himself, and drew forth his magic. It coursed through his veins like a shot of adrenaline. Every hair stood on end, every sensation felt heightened. He could feel the bodies around him and the boards of the treetop platform shifting beneath their weight. He could feel the wind buffeting the branches and the cold leather grip of the greatsword in his palm, a veritable extension of his own arm now. He raised the sword, nearly as big as his own body, with one hand and gave it an experimental whirl.
The Commander's eyes widened in shock as Gix danced forward on the balls of his feet.