Chapter 185: Diplomatic Measures (1/2)
[Well, I have to give him credit for originality. I wouldn't have thought you could do that with a ladle, or that Almiran birds were so easily provoked. Maybe I can get him to show me that move sometime.] Mike thought to himself as Henry finished his story. Regardless of how outlandish his misadventures had sounded, the man's charismatic storytelling had captivated the group, quickly removing any tension.
[I can see why the commissioner sent him. He's a natural when it comes to working a crowd. If I can provide the appropriate backup, he might just be able to lead negotiations in the right direction. Speaking of which, it sounds like they're about to start.]
Light flooded into the tent as the flap was pulled back.
”Attention!” The Tenundian sergeant hollered from outside. The guards, who just seconds before had been in the throes of companionable laughter, shot to their feet, staring straight ahead nervously.
A man dressed in suit of studded leather armor calmly stepped into the tent. A battered cavalry saber was strapped to his waist. With short, salt and pepper hair, several days worth of untamed stubble on his chin, and a face lined with worry, exhaustion, and irritation in equal measure, Mike figured that he was probably in charge.
The only aspect of his appearance that separated him from the rest of the soldiers was an elaborate sash, which feature an emblem of two crossed swords surrounded by a laurel wreath. However, the palpable air of confidence and authority that followed him suggested that he was someone who had grown used to commanding others.
A quick Appraise gave him more information.
-------------------------------
Kiertesan Mal Ferunti
Age: 43
Race: Human
Class: Warlord
Title: Grand Marshal
-------------------------------
[Looks like the commander.]
Mike briefly considered attempting an assassination of his own. If he moved quickly enough, he thought he might be able to take down the lot of them. Red was on standby in the air overhead. Assuming he could fight his way out, the pair of them could be leaving in a matter of moments.
Almost as if sensing his thoughts, the Marshal's glaze slid over to him. Feeling the weight of those eyes, Mike dismissed his plans. He had no way of knowing how individually powerful this Kiertesan was. Besides the pair following him in added another layer of difficulty.
The first was an elf with pale, slightly grey tinted skin and long silver hair held back with a rune-inscribed headband. He stood slightly taller than the Marshal, who was of average height, but was more slender. Dressed in a set of delicate chainmail with leather backing, he looked like a warrior, although Appraise said otherwise.
------------------------------------
Nurenal Vunanlen
Age: 143
Race: Moon Elf
Class: Arcane Battlemage
Title: Master of Eldritch Arms
-----------------------------------
[So that's what moon elves look like. I'm not sure I see the resemblance with the Almiran royal family, but I suppose they bloodline is probably fairly diluted. Anyway, it looks like this guy is following a path similar to my own. He might be troublesome to deal with.]
He tried to Appraise the headband, figuring it might be a magic item, but unsurprisingly failed. He'd had similar problems in the past, and after some experimentation, determined that he couldn't use the skill on items that were worn or held by another living being. Although, he suspected that a more advanced version might not have the same limitation.
[Maybe he'll let me examine it if I ask nicely.]
Dismissing the thought, he focused on the last of the new arrivals, a woman dressed in a grayish brown military uniform. Unlike the other two, she didn't appear to martially inclined, since her posture and stance had all kinds of openings that could be easily exploited by a skilled fighter. Her shoulder length, chestnut brown hair had been pulled into a pony tail, revealing a youthful face that was split in an amused grin.
----------------------------
Liri Yondalin
Age: 23
Race: Human
Class: Tactician
Title: Master Strategist
----------------------------
[A strategist, huh? From the looks of it, they brought a good portion of their command staff. With minimal guards as well. Are they that confident?]
”Sergeant Trenton, take your men and report back to your post.” The Marshal growled in a rough voice, no doubt affected by years of yelling orders.