Book 3: Chapter 46: Conundrum
Truth is only valuable to those who can bear it.
- A Quassian Aphorism.
I drummed armored fingers across the stone counter as we waited. If I could somehow arrange it, challenging someone seemed an easy way to get promoted to a higher rank. That was if my recent brawl with those of that esteemed rank were anything to go by.
However, it would involve having to deal with this Branch’s guild master, a prospect I was unsure of. We had been in luck with Larynda’s registration, the ceremony of sorts performed by one of the clerks here, instead of the guild master. More importantly, if the master of this branch had interviewed us, the light would have been shone on Larynda’s circumstances, which might have led to all sorts of questions being asked. Perhaps it would be best to visit later, and alone.
But what lay in my hands was more promising still, an opportunity to win fame and glory. The Festival was a tournament of the purest form, without weapons or armor, it was a contest of raw unarmed combat. Here, I had an overwhelming advantage that the other contestants simply could not surpass.
I was gifted with a unique form of magic.
I needed no chant or incantation, nor wizard’s staff or focus. My magic could be unleashed simply by me willing it to be so. Coupled with my enhanced physical abilities and my Mimic shield, it was clear that the deck was heavily stacked in my favor in such a contest.
“What are you grinning about? An’ can we leave soon? I spent a few nights sleeping rough once but ain’t never smelled this fragrant,” she asked in a slightly querulous voice.