Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (141/?) WiP 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 141 I hope you guys enjoy! :D 

His Eternal Majesty’s Remembrance Path | The Royal Road of Transgracia. En Route to the Township of Sips. Local Time 1125 Hours.

Emma

A tenseness fell on each and every one of us as the two guardsmen pulled up beside the jury-rigged amalgamation that was the motorcycle-drawn wagon.

Indeed, I could tell the moment when dread had taken its grip on both Alorant and Solizia, as they both froze in place; faces and all.

I, for one, thought I’d be immune to this.

But alas, there seemed to be a universal sense of anxiety that came with being pulled over by the cops. A sense of undeniable worry that came with the ramifications of what was just moments ago a fun joyride.

This was exacerbated by the slow and methodical steps of both their horses, and eventually, themselves.

As the clop clop clop of horseshoes was followed close in tow by the clanking of armor.

Yet in spite of this, it would be Thalmin who broke the mold.

From the tension in the air, to the unwavering demeanor of the guardsmen, he seemed entirely impervious to all of it.

Indeed, he maintained a stoic visage bordering on aloofness as he stared down the two would-be law enforcers. 

It was because of that confidence, and the purposefulness of his chosen presence that I simply elected to stay silent, allowing the prince to take the proverbial wheel of this encounter.

“... and you are supposed to be…?” He replied candidly, almost too candidly with a noble cadence that would’ve made Ilunor blush.

This response caused almost everyone’s jaws to drop — from the guardsmen, to solizia and alorant, and even yours truly.

The guards seemed so taken aback that they landed on silently pointing to their emblazoned crests before responding. “Who do you think we are?”

“Brigands with stolen armor? Cadets on their first post? A particularly convincing act put on by a local theatre? You could be anyone for all I know. All because you refused to abide by expectant procedure.” Thalmin continued, completely smoking the pair in what I could only describe as the calm before the shitstorm you learned to see a mile away in basic training.

The pair reacted to this in two vastly different ways.

The Satyr immediately stiffened up, while the elf of the pair grew increasingly impatient, choosing to point vehemently at Thalmin’s face. “And who are you to be demanding expectant procedure from us?” 

“Is being a traveler of these royal roads not sufficient for something as basic as common courtesy? Martial or otherwise?” Thalmin shot back, refusing to back down, sticking to that noble, old-fashioned officer style of cadence.

“I asked you a question, traveler.” The elf double downed. 

“And I have yet to have received anything but a defensive reply to my first question, guardsman.” Thalmin once again stood his ground, as the EVI was quick to note a strange new reading that seemed just a bit more nuanced than a mere burst of mana radiation.

[Localized Fluctuation of Manafields Detected. Visualization Attempt Processing…]

There seemed to be less of a discrete burst, and more of a continuous shift in mana radiation interactions around us.

Or, in the spirit of Thacea’s weather vane analogy — there were some very visible changes in the wind patterns, pressure zones, and a lot of other minor interactions that the EVI tried its hand  at visualizing.

Though to be honest, it looked more like a hazy mess than anything. It felt as if I was staring at some early composite imaging of some far off celestial body, overlaid on top of crisp live footage, which just clashed rather than meshing even remotely well.

However, the context clues from the guard’s visible reactions were enough to clue me in to what Thalmin was trying to do.

“M-my lord, we didn’t realize…”

He was trying to pull out the status card as subtly as he could, and only when the pair had failed at his constant attempts to address their own shortcomings.

“I demand to speak with your commander, now.” Thalmin interrupted, filling in the vacant air left by the elf’s stutters.

“That won’t be necessary, adjacent realmer.” Another voice chimed in, one belonging to a surprisingly unassuming grey-skinned elf dressed in robes of finery that whispered wealth and status, rather than screaming it out.

Indeed, the entourage that followed him, and the direction he came from hinted at a type of Nexian I hadn’t at all anticipated on seeing.

“My sincerest apologies for the inconvenience and lack of hospitality shown on the part of my guardsmen, Lord…” 

“Prince. Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm.” Thalmin completed the grey elf’s words for him. “And this is Cadet Emma Booker, of Earthrealm. We’re both students of the Transgracian Academy, currently partaking on the Quest for the Everblooming Blossom.” 

“Well met.” The elf nodded abruptly. “I am Baron Qarth L’Sips, fourth of my name, fourth councilman of the Kingdom of Transgracia’s Table of Grain, and incumbent Lord and Lord Protector of the Township of Sips.” He followed up his hastened speech with another dip of his head. “Now, aside from a stern warning and a month’s retraining for these two trainee guardsmen, is there anything you wish to request of me?” 

“Just safe passage through your town, Baron L’Sips. That, and access to the amenities therein, along with the transportium network.” Thalmin responded. 

“Granted — naturally — in accordance with the King’s standing treaties with the Transgracian Academy.” He shot back uncharacteristically quickly.

And once again, I was thrown off by the… curtness of it all.

Because unlike our interactions with most other Nexian nobles back at the Academy, Qarth was… efficient. 

Sure, he rattled on his titles, pedigree, and credentials… but he spoke faster than almost any of his peers. 

In fact, his manner of speaking reminded me of Lartia of all people, at least when it came to how clipped his words were, and how he seemed to be working towards a goal rather than a long winded discussion.

Or worse… a confrontational stalemate.

“You have my utmost gratitude, Barron L’Sips.” Thalmin replied promptly. “Though I must suggest that you station someone other than Cadets at the very entrance to your—”

“Suggestion noted.” The Baron replied hastily, as a lizardfolk member of his entourage began handing him notebooks, scrolls, and a whole host of other documents to both read and sign off on. 

“Farming rights for Miss Arlen’s—”

“Triplicate, notaries, rubber stamp, ombudsman’s office.” He quickly shot back in rapid succession both in words and a lightning round of signatures, before shooing the man off with the same pile of papers and turning back to Thalmin.

“You must understand, Prince Havenbrock, that much of our guardsmen are currently preoccupied with the mess caused by Elaseer’s disastrous inability to contain its release of abnormal creatures. Thus, we were forced to station members of the guard who typically would not have been assigned such a role. Surely you of all adjacent realmers understand the calculus of practicality, yes?”