Touch of Fate

Mike made sure to keep his hood pulled down low as he followed the strange menagerie of floating dirt cubes. It was probably a little too late to avoid attracting too much attention, but he figured that it was better than doing nothing.

The guards at the cathedral's entrance were watching him with a combination of confusion and fear, which wasn't too surprising considering their inexperience. Apparently, the people assigned to the main entrances were trainee paladins, at least as far as he could tell with Appraise. It was doubtful if they'd ever seen anything like this.

He set his captives down and walked over to stand in front of them. "Well, I'm here."

The guards exchanged glances before asking him to wait while one of them located their supervisor. Mike was left to awkwardly stand around while he did so. Thankfully, Selene's skill had left the four inquisitors unconscious.

[I guess I could have given them a little more time to get ready. Really, though, how hard is it to let the guards know that we're coming?]

Finally, after a few minutes, a group of paladins marched out of the cathedral and took up positions around his prisoners. The same grim looking, female knight that had taken custody of the other traitors, was in the lead.

It didn't take long for them to restrain their new batch of captives and carry them inside once he'd freed them from the cubes, and in short order he was once again left alone with a pair of confused looking guards. No one expressly stated it, but he was effectively bid to wait until another representative could come out to meet him.

[I'm a little disappointed by their lack of hospitality. You'd think the person who saved them from a grisly coup would be treated a little better. Then again, I did kind of extort their equivalent of a pope, so maybe that's to be expected.]

He waited another ten minutes or so before a second group of people showed up. The Pontifex was out in front, flanked by four paladins. A group of acolytes were following behind, carrying three large and ornately decorated chests on miniature palanquins. Judging from the number of religious symbols emblazoned on each of them, he guessed that they contained something along the lines of holy relics.

"I see you still choose to appear in disguise. Is it your wish to keep your identity a secret at this time?" Alaine asked as she descended the small staircase towards him.

"Let's just say I want to avoid any undue attention." He replied.

The Pontifex glanced around at the small crowd of passersby that had started to gather to watch the proceedings, and muttered dryly, "Indeed…Very well, we shall accommodate."

She turned and motioned to the acolytes, who proceeded to bring the chests forward. "For your efforts in protecting the sanctity of the Church of Aminatrea, we have chosen three of our most sacred relics to bestow upon your and your master, the Hero of Almir. It is our hope that they may aid you in travels."

The bearers lined up and deposited their litters on the ground in front of him, before opening them with a great sense of ceremony.

The first of the three contained a small leather sack, which was distinctly ordinary apart from its obvious age. As he stepped for to examine it, the Pontifex offered an explanation. "The Knucklebones of Saint Guispard. Although blind from birth, he followed the light of the goddess for all of his long years, relying on it to guide him through life. For his devotion, he was granted to the power to perform miracles, and many legends have been told of his exploits. These bones retain a small portion of his blessed foresight and can provide guidance in uncertain times."

He picked the bag up and opened it, reveal a handful of polished bones that had been carved with a variety or runes. Those he could see with a casual glance suggested that they dealt primarily in abstract concepts such as fortune, danger, and the like. To be on the safe side, he used Appraise on them.

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The Knucklebones of Saint Guispard

Magic Relic (Tier 2, Rank 3)

Crafted from the remains of the legendary traveling saint, these bones can provide skilled users with insights about the near future. When thrown into an appropriate vessel, a user can read the layout of the bones to foretell on some specific event or answer a specific question. As with all methods of precognizance, such insights are limited in scope, and subject to the Haze of Destiny.

Individuals of the Oracle bloodline receive a system correction when using this item.

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[So, a relic is somehow its own kind of item according to the System? Even though it seems to function just the same as any other magic item? Anyway, I bet Sera cold put it to use. I wonder if they are aware of her identity, or merely selected it based on usefulness.]

He moved on to the next chest, which contained a scrap of cloth that had been sealed between two panes of glass.

"The Sacred Banner of Talingland, said to have been carried by paladins of order since its inception. It was lost during the Siege of Batai, and this piece is the only known fragment still in existence. While its power has faded over time, a portion of its divine aura yet remains."

This time, Appraise worked without him having to pick it up.

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Fragment of the Banner of Talingland

Magic Relic (Tier 3, Rank 2)

This piece of cloth was once part of the banner created by Archangel Coriethinel, and gifted to the Order of the Sun, a now defunct knightly order that arose near the beginning of the Third Age. It passed into the hands of the Church of Aminatrea following the former's dissolution in the face of political pressure, and was frequently carried into battle by their paladins. During the Siege of Batai, its bearer was slain and the majority of the artifact was destroyed when the Archlich unleased his Desolation Swarm.

When carried prominently, this relic serves to inspire and protect those who are ideologically aligned with the carrier. Provides minor bonus to Willpower, Endurance, and all resistance skills for all allies who are capable of seeing it. A Tier 3 or higher Divine Mage, dedicated to Aminatrea, can pray upon the relic to release what remains of its divinity, momentarily creating a Tier 5 barrier of protection in an area 30 meters around the user. Doing so will expend the remainder of its stored energy and reduce it to non-magical cloth.

Item has been downgraded from Tier 4, Rank 2 due to its current condition.

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[Well, the second bit won't really help us, but I guess the first part can come in handy. I'm getting the impression that relics are like magic items that have some kind of usage requirement. That, or they are just related to certain gods or something.]

He moved over to the last chest and listened as the Pontifex explained. "The Belt of Bertilak. This strange relic is said to have originated in another realm entirely, where it once belonged to a knight of great virtue and renown. While its full power remains shrouded in mystery, it is believed to protect worthy bearers from harm, even sparing them from certain death. The legendary knight Foltest supposedly wore it while he challenged the Beast of Galor. With its magic, he withstood the creature's acidic breath on three separate occasions, allowing him to deliver the finishing blow before he succumbed to his other injuries."

Mike stared at the length of green silk, and used Appraise with an odd sense of déjà vu.

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The Belt of Bertilak

Magic Relic (Tier ?, Rank ?)

Non-System Object.

Details not found.

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[What the…]

As he was considering the implications of what he'd seen, he realized that the group of Aminatrean clergy had fallen silent and were staring at him expectantly.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat before speaking. "On behalf of our leader, I thank you for the generous gifts. It is my hope, and his, that this day will mark the beginning of a long and prosperous friendship between us."

That statement caused a bit of confused muttering from the onlookers, but he could tell that his intended message had been delivered, judging by the slightly sour expression on the Pontifex's face. Nevertheless, she offered a slight bow in response. "Our order graciously accepts the offer of friendship. May the Lightbringer always illuminate your path."

[Now, they'll think twice about trying to portray this as anything other than me doing them a favor.] He thought to himself while returning the bow.

With that, the Pontifex turned and led her entourage back into the cathedral. The acolytes stuck around long enough to reclaim the ornate chests, once he'd pocketed the relics. In short order, he was once again left alone with the subdued entrance guards, who weren't really sure what to do about him.

Deciding to spare the hapless newbies any further difficulties, Mike turned and made his way through the small crowd that had gathered to watch the event. The onlookers parted in front of him with a sort of awestruck silence, making his egress fairly simple. Once he was in the clear, he ducked back into the alley, made sure the coast was clear, and activated his stealth skill before stepping out again.

He walked several streets over before he ditched his disguise and started flying. There was one last place he wanted to visit today before he headed back. It was something he'd been intentionally been putting off until all his other business had been concluded.

As he was traveling in the direction of the slums, he pulled out the length of green silk, which was supposedly some kind of belt, and examined it. His fingers tingled a bit as he touched the smooth material, which might have been an indication of its magical properties, or static electricity. It was hard to tell for sure.

[Bertilak…where have I heard that name before? Since its from outside of the System, it must have come from another world. Could it be something from Earth?]

He decided to put it aside for now. There would be time to experiment with it in the future, but he needed to focus on the upcoming meeting.

Hopefully, his friend was in a good mood.

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"Why is it that you all are able to organize the equivalent of a fully functional sporting league, complete with judges, rankings, audience participation, and systematic gambling, based around a form of ritual combat with a laundry list of rules, but can't give me a rough idea of how many people we actually have?" Brenden asked with exasperation.

He was trying to get a solid idea of the full scope of the operations he'd taken control of, and had tasked the various gangs to report on their numbers and enterprises. While it wasn't exactly a popular initiative, since many of them found the idea of sharing intimate details of how they ran things reprehensible, he pushed it through anyway, hoping to identify areas that needed improvement.

Of course, he'd almost immediately hit a snag when it came out that most of the gangs didn't maintain any kind of reliable records of their business practices or membership. While he could kind of understand not wanting to have the details of their illegal activities in writing, they also didn't really have any other methods in place. As a result, they'd been working for close to three days on getting an estimate of their overall membership, and very little progress had been made.

"Well, You Highness, this isn't exactly a simple matter-" Fang started to explain before he was cut off by the leader of the Hanged Gulls, a mid-sized gang that operated in northeastern Almirn and dealt primarily with overland smuggling.

"That's right! Do you have any idea how many crews I got running right now? Cause I don't. That's something for the sub-bosses to figure out, and I can guarantee that they haven't got a clue about how many people actually work for them. That's more of a matter for crew leaders. Which doesn't even include the trainees, who are the responsibility of the assistant crew leaders…"

"Look," Brenden interrupted, taking the opportunity to address the rest of the group, who likely had similar stories to tell. "I understand your organizations are complex, secretive and, operate independently a lot of the time. We are criminals after all, and that's just part of our business, but you should be able to give me some kind of idea of how many people actually work for you. If we ever want to be anything more than a two-bit crime syndicate, operating out of a moldy basement, we need to start doing things differently. So, get me a number. It doesn't have to be exact."

There was a little more grumbling about the impossibility of the task, but none of them had the courage to outright refuse his command. Despite their initial enthusiasm for his rule, most of the gangs were not used to taking orders, and there had been something of a learning curve when he first started making changes.

[They'll get over it.] He thought to himself as he dismissed the council and sent them on their way. He also told his guards and followers to wait outside for a few minutes, because he needed some time to clear his head The constant stream of problems he'd been dealing with over the last few days, coupled with the reticence of his followers to fulfill even a simple request, was starting to give him a headache.

"Rough day?" A familiar voice asked from nearby. It might have surprised Brenden if he hadn't caught a whiff of the intruder's scent a few seconds earlier.

He gave Mike a tired look, "More like a rough week."