Framework of the Frontier, Sain Artwell [read me a book .TXT] 📗

Two of them launched on him at once. One was a darker elf with a buzz-cut who’d been shouting encouragement and the other a scrawny troll woman who looked to be hammered to the edge of conscious thought. The one who’d tried to stop Rajza ran back towards their camp.

William called upon blessings of fortitude and strength. He wanted to do this quickly, painlessly, and without deaths. The troll went down like a sack of sleepy potatoes, but before William could click on the cuffs he saw metal glint in the moonlight.

The elf had drawn steel and held a hand to his necklace.

“It’s magical,” Ember shouted from above.

William ducked backwards from the stab as white glyphs pulsed on the medallion. Light poured out in pressurized fumes, spilling on the ground into a shambling mass of mist. Solid sharp shapes began to rise from it, launching at William in tandem with the elf’s thrust.

“What the fuck is this?” William pulled out his hammer, glancing at Ember.

“An illusory curse! Don’t get stabbed by the real blade.”

The mist started to gain color and shape, turning from fumbling tendrils with sharp ends into copies of his sword arm. It would get hard to tell the real from the fake soon.

William recast his blessings and leapt over him. His battlehammer beat the elf in speed, slamming the elf on his sword hand. The weapon flew from his grip as he shrieked in pain and the mist dissipated.

“You brought this on yourself,” William said, slapping the man in cuffs. His palm looked awful.

“Three more, your left,” Ember yelled.

Springing back on his feet, William hefted his mace towards the redbearded faun with long, ornamentally carved ibex horns. In his hands he held a weighted staff wrapped in black barbed chain, which writhed around his arms. Next to him were the elf girl who’d shouted for Rajza to back down and a bleary eyed slender faun with a bow in her hands.

“Hold it right there.” William put his foot on the back of the cuffed man in pain. “I’m taking these three in for general disturbance. I suggest you go back to bed and behave.”

“He’s killed Velma,” cried the faun.

They all looked at the passed out troll with one hand in the cuffs and a dumb smile on her face. Other adventurers began to appear in the Ranger’s office windows and on the street.

“A murder!” Screamed one goblin. “Yay! Hangings?! Who’s we gonna hang?”

William raised his voice. “She’s alive. They’re all alive and they’re all under arrest. Nobody is dead and nobody is getting hanged. They’re going to the prison now, but anyone who has an issue with that gets a special cell six foot under.” Since he wasn’t sure if they understood, William continued, “A coffin, you get buried in a coffin.”

The threat was three quarters bluff, but, to William’s much appreciated surprise, it worked. Remaining members of Rajza’s gang lowered their weapons down. Someone was about to say something, but William cut them off. “Go sleep. I will figure out what they’re guilty of in the morning.”

The faun protested, “Velma is hurt! You must let me stay with them.”

“What about my arm? My arm’s fucked!” The darker elf below William’s boot grimaced in pain.

“Right. yeah, sure. Yes, you can stay with them, but I’m locking you in with them.” William shot the idle spectators a tired look. “Help me haul them into the cells.”

“Huh? Why should we do ye a favor,” the shark toothed goblin asked him.

William groaned. “Can you help me haul them into the cells, and not be butts about it, please?”

Eventually, they did. William ended up arresting one of the noisiest goblin for trying to nib magical items off of Rajza and for manhandling him. Luckily the place had no shortage of cells.

Rajza’s gang fit in one with room to spare while the gobbo had her private room. The weapons and magical items, William took into his own bedroom for safekeeping. He also gave the injured elf a few drops of vitality elixir and allowed his companions to tend to him and the others.

By the time William pressed his head to a pillow, the horizon brightened with the pink flush of morning. Fuck, tomorrow is going to be hell. I’ll have to figure out how to do this Ranger thing quick and how to wrangle adventurers out of my way, so I can do what I came here to do. I’ll have to…

A pair of soft perfect breasts pressed against William’s face and lulled him to slumber mid-thought.

12

“With the power of judgement bestowed unto me by the Emperor Ahi and Gods of Nibir, I William Adams — the Ranger of Nastall — sentence these offenders to a draft duty of ten days, or a fine worth at least five hundred silver clinkers.” William banged his warhammer on a block of wood to declare the judgement final.

“Your jury was biased,” Rajza protested, his eyes bloodshot from hangover.

The molester goblin hollered through the bars of her cell. “Yea! Who’s heard of a friendly gropin’ being a crime ever before? Boo! Yer all stinkass pixiefucks.”

William pointed his hammer at her. “You received your sentence, Uttaraa, try to stay quiet while others get theirs. As for the jury, where do you think I’m going to whip up ten unbiased people in a town with three citizens?”

“Shereriir would’ve found a way,” Rajza spat. His gang began complaining loudly.

William banged the table. “Order. Order in the court!”

The people gathered in the backyard of the Ranger’s office quieted. However, a certain sense of disgruntlement persisted.

It was almost as if they wanted harsher sentences.

The punishments that the Ranger’s rulebook recommended for disorderly conduct, assault of a Ranger, and drunken use of magic were downright medieval: Flogging and magical branding at the town