The Games We Played as Boys [Brenner]

[Eitan Angevin]

Brenner was magnificent when consumed by righteousness. Eitan thought his crew were fortunate to have him as their exemplar, and hoped he would be able to do the same despite the unfortunate reason he was also a Warden. But he had invoked sacred rights and was comporting himself correctly, delegating a call to the civil police to back them up. Eitan could have done, but his presence was more critical here backing Brenner up in the face of more than one degenerate. He wouldn't let a brother of the Air Defense Corps fall here in Zaichaer or anywhere.

He caught sight of a small, blond boy. The lad ought to have been in bed, but children were frequently put to work before they ought to be in this area of town. Offering a reassuring smile, he gestured with his chin that the kid should seek safety elsewhere. With an enraged Rathari and a slick-tongued elf causing trouble, there was a high likelihood that this could get ugly, and while the boy should know the wages of illegal behavior, he didn't need to see violence up close and personal. But as weapons were being drawn, he set his mug down and pulled his own. He sighted the elf between his upswept eyebrows. A slug between the eyes would put the problem down for good.

"Answer the questions, elf," he said evenly, his voice devoid of inflection. He hadn't the stomach to play Good Cop. Let them deal with the problem and the constabulary could swoop in to set everyone at ease. Then the people could be proud of how deadly and efficient their military was and take comfort in the care of their police force.

But as even as his tone was, his choler continued to rise. If he could kill this elf before Brenner's eyes, his friend would have a visceral understanding of where his loyalties lay. And he could almost hear the whine of his half-formed ward. It wanted completion like some unholy unborn thing. Magic required discipline of the mind to fight its siren song. Power was always seductive, but he preferred the power he had cocked and aimed.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"We don't have to answer shit!" Yergen snarled, the pronounced underbite of his lower, fang-like canines making him appear monstrous to Brenner's blue eyes. "We weren't doin' nothin' wrong. You two assholes are just trying to bully us because we're outsiders!"

Brenner rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the Elf, though his barrel remained pointed at the Rathari's chest.

"If you can't keep your pet monkey quiet, I'm sure Grimace has some bananas in back somewhere he can occupy his chops with." Brenner smirked,

"Oh, I've had about enough of you, you smug little..." Whatever slur Yergen spat was too quiet to hear over his friend's pleading for him to calm down, but the Rathari was advancing on the Air Commander.

"Stay back!" Brenner shouted, eyes widening in alarm.

"Please!" The Elf held both hands up, one toward Yergen and the other toward Brenner. "Both of you just calm down!" A dull glow that matched that of his eyes began to emerge from the palm of the hand facing Brenner- it was the outline of a rune. A symbol of who knew what? Brenner stumbled back a few steps, sharply turning his aim toward the threatening glow of the screaming Elf and a thunderous boom pierced the air of the bar. The Rathari froze in his tracks and looked to the Elf.

"Levenn! Are you all right?!" The Elf was quivering staring at Brenner through the hole the human had just blasted into his runebearing hand. He seemed too shocked to register what had happened, or that the bullet that had impaled the source of his Craft was now lodged in his shoulder. He staggered back toward the table where they'd been sitting and collapsed into the chair as Yergen's ireful attention returned to Brenner. "You..." He hissed, as he started to charge toward Brenner, who looked almost as shocked as the Elf he'd just shot.

Brenner shivered slightly as he returned to his senses and shifted his aim toward the incoming assailant. Another shot rung out as the Rathari barreled into him and sent him flying backwards, slamming him into the bar and knocking the wind from his lungs.

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[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan's shield coalesced as soon as he saw the telltale glow of the elf's rune. He hadn't the Sight to identify it, but this elf had no legal standing to practice magic especially during what was fast becoming an altercation. He was already moving to intercept whatever magical attack was being prepared against Brenner when the shot rang out.

The shot itself wasn't enough to deter him. He had been on patrol throughout the land protected by Zaichaer and battled with both pirates and hedge mages. But as the elf went down, the Rathari charged and Eitan's firearm swung around to fire upon him even as Brenner did the same. And then he turned to deal with the mage.

"By the authority of the Order of Reconciliation," he declaimed, "you are under arrest for the illegal practice of magic within the jurisdiction of the fair City of Zaichaer!" He leaped upon the prone elf, straddling his chest and pinning his arms down with his shins. He held the muzzle of his weapon to the elf's forehead and pinned the wrist of his mangled hand down with his free hand.

Eitan immediately began to weave a matching shield that would close off the elf's hand from the rest of his body, at least insofar as magic was concerned. The physical rune was one thing, but surviving threshold sickness meant that the rune was inscribed on his soul and it had to be contained.

"Rest easy," he muttered. "If the corruption can be cleansed from you, it will be." But as his ward closed fully around the elf's hand, he strained against Eitan's weight, screaming and then shuddering and going into shock. He was bleeding quite a bit, the slug possibly perforating the artery in his shoulder.

"Dornkirk, what's the situation?!" he called over his shoulder. He couldn't see past the table and fallen chairs and he couldn't release a magical combatant even when he appeared subdued. But while he was certain Brenner could handle himself against a Rathari with two bullet holes (or four if there were exit wounds) slowing him down, he wanted to be sure.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

The body that slammed into Brenner's had hurled him backwards through inertia alone. Once the Rathari was on top of Brenner, he fell slack and his weight dragged the smaller human to the floor with him. Brenner wrestled through the sting in his spine, but soon realised that he was fighting dead weight. Literally. Once he pushed himself free of Yergen's body, he found the hole he'd left in the man's chest as well as the one Eitan had left in his temple. 'Bloody good shot,' he thought as he used a stool to pull himself up with his free hand.

At this point, most of the patrons had fled the establishment or were in the process of fleeing. Some feared they might be caught in the crossfire, but given the type of clientele who frequented the establishment, more were likely just averse to the idea of being around when more lawmen arrived.

Brenner winced in pain and rubbed at the small of his back, where he'd struck it on the bar. But a call from Eitan brought his attention over to his friend and the Elf he was wrestling to the ground.

"The animal's been put down." He responded coolly as he stepped on the dead Rathari's wrist with his jackboot as he made his way over to Eitan.

"Did you see what the knife-ear tried to do?" Brenner really had no idea what the struggling fiend had been attempting to do with his fell enchantments. In truth, it had been an attempt to deescalate the situation with calming energies, but that would have made it no less criminal than if he'd shot fireballs out of his palms. The pain in his back stung and the memories of Glade the 8th and of being violated into acting against his training and his will fell upon him like an ocean, and his eyes raged as he regarded the helpless Elf. He aimed his pistol between the eyes lolling in shock and disorientation.

"He might have stopped my heart cold..." Brenner rasped with a wrathful snarl curling over clenched teeth. "Is the Kraft still within him, or did I pierce it along with the rune?"

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[Eitan Angevin]

"One down," he muttered to the elf ominously, even as he felt a rush of relief that his friend was the one still standing after the monster attacked him. The elf, for his part, was fully in shock from the pain and the blood loss.

"Magic," he averred when Brenner loomed over his shoulder with his question. "He did magic. His physical rune is disfigured, but it's still etched into his aether. I have it contained." He didn't quite bristle when Brenner's aim matched his own on the elf's head, but he wondered if he didn't think Eitan capable of this. And so he fired, making a mess of poor Grimace's floorboards.

Then he stood up, releasing his own grasp on Negation and holstering his weapon.

"He was bleeding out. Mercy killing. I think Grimace owes us another round while we wait for the constabulary to arrive. If you think someone actually did their civic duty." He glanced toward the door, unsure whether anyone in this place was reliable other than Brenner. Then he glanced at his clothes to make sure he hadn't gotten any blood on him. "It'd certainly be convenient to give our statements here." Of course, he would still have to file a report at the very least to get his ammunition resupplied. Procedure could be tedious, but it helped Zaichaer run like proper clockwork.

He clapped a hand to Brenner's shoulder and held it there.

"No foe of the Fatherland can stand before us, eh, old sport?" His smile shone brightly, his dark eyes flashing all the more. It were better those two miscreants were put down than risk them polluting Zaichaer further or fomenting rebellion anywhere else in the vicinity. Ransera would be better off when Zaichaer ruled the North.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner winced as a spray of blood spritzed across his pale face. He looked to Eitan, his expression more grave than that of his old friend. He was still very shaken by the series of events that led to the summary execution of the Elf at their feet and surprised by Eitan's initiative in ending the life of a restrained suspect. He'd been tempted to pull the trigger himself, of course, out of anger, fear and personal affront, but he wasn't sure whether he would have in this instance. He staggered back a few steps and looked to Eitan,

"Check his pockets. See if he had a license. I'll check the other one." Brenner instructed, without responding to the cordial offerings of his oldest friend. With that, he turned to return to the spot where Yergen's body lay, glancing to Gormund who looked more put upon than traumatised by the whole event.

"Damnit, Bryan! This'll lose me customers for I don't know how long!" Brenner paused his gait to regard the confounded barkeep.

"We'll leave a superb tip. Would you mind pouring us another round? Double up on the schnapps, this time."

Gormund grumbled to comply and Brenner knelt beside the body of the Rathari, which was face down on the floorboards. He resolved to send some cleaning staff from the Windworks to help Gormund tidy up the tavern, once the police had taken whatever evidence they required and cleared the venue of crime scene status.

The Air Commander frisked the limp form before him, then strained to roll the body onto its back despite the pain in his own, to frisk the front. He found a coinpurse, which he tossed up onto the bar.

"There's the tip I promised." He glanced back down feeling something under the Rathari's tunic near his sternum. He reached down the neck to pull out a locket, which he opened to reveal a small portrait of an ostensibly human woman's faintly smiling face. He closed it promptly and let it drop back onto the broad chest, as he rose to his feet.

"Find anything, Commander?" He inquired, pivoting to regard Eitan in time to see a few constables jogging up to the door, which had been left wide open by fleeing patrons moments earlier.

[Eitan Angevin]

"Aye, aye," he acquiesced. "Protocol."

Eitan crouched beside the elf's corpse. While they were of equal rank, Brenner had worn it longer and Eitan was used to following his lead unless there was a strong argument not to.

Upon closer inspection, the elf's simple attire had subtle embroidery around the collar and cuffs that hinted at the pastoral or the woodland life. One side of it was stained with his blood, the branching vines looking more like arteries now. There was blood-soaked paper in his pocket which was now illegible. All the same, he set it down upon his chest as evidence. If it were his licensure, he ought to have led with it rather than with magic. The paper was too distressed to tell if it was official documentation of any sort, really.

A bit of coin, a knife on his belt that looked as much tool as weapon, which he hadn't drawn in the brief fracas.

"Nothing definitive." He wiped his hands clean on the elf's trouser leg, then tossed his coin next to the Rathari's on the bar. To Gormund, "We can be sure to tell the constables how you cooperated. Perhaps they might even keep a closer eye on your establishment to prevent similar undesirables from thinking it a safe haven." He smiled after the man when he went to fill Brenner's order.

Justice was thirsty work.

"Ah, and here they are..." He flashed his shield, which marked him an officer of the Air Defense Corps as well as the Order of Reconciliation lest the proper authorities mistake them for the authors of this mess. "I don't suppose we should order them a round while they're on duty." He frowned a bit at that, wishing they could celebrate their success with the men and women who kept the streets safe. Eitan was happy to help. There was a lot of street to cover, after all.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Gormund returned to the part of the bar nearest Brenner with the drinks he'd ordered. He was grumbling and clearly angry, but his fear of the authorities stayed his tongue from forming any audible words of protest. Instead he had to content himself with grunts. Gormund glanced up to look Brenner in the eye and said:

"Your face."

"Huh?" Brenner blinked at him, and then remembered the feeling of warm blood splattering across his face. Gormund handed a towel across the bar and the rattled Air Commander used it to wipe at his face- the stench of the shitty whiskey that drenched the fabric assaulting his nose as he did so.

"Commander Dornkirk?" One of the policeman regarded Brenner's profile as the rag came down, and the commander turned to look at him. It was one of the officers who'd been on the scene in the aftermath of another Rathari incident- when Talon's pet dog had been kidnapped not far from here, and Brenner had been there to witness some of the repercussions and attempt to assuage the wrath of an angry demi-deity.

"That's right, Constable." Brenner confirmed, "As you can see we have a bit of an incident here. We were questioning a pair of suspicious individuals, when one charged me and the other attempted to exert some sort of sorcery. Commander Angevin and I put them down." He noted with a gesture to Eitan.

"Two less ne'er-do-wells haunting our streets." The constable smiled,

"Fewer." Brenner corrected and picked up the two brimming shotglasses, handing one across to Eitan and shooting his own without so much as a toast. "I expect you'll be wanting our statements?"

"Ah... It's getting late, gentlemen. I'm sure your statements'll keep 'til morning. We can send someone by Dornkirk Manor and..." The constable glanced to Eitan, "The old admiral's estate, I reckon?"

[Eitan Angevin]

"I can confirm that magic was cast," he added, tucking his identification away. Some Wardens wore aura glass spectacles to identify magic and magicians without the curse of a rune, but Eitan hadn't been outfitted with them and—besides—they weren't the sort of thing he needed to maintain the wards on wards on an Excelsior-class airship. But he would have to see about a pair if he did end up gallivanting away with the Dornkirk boys on a mission to save Zaichaer.

Brenner had named him and the constables had acknowledged his parentage—at least the better half. He always had such mixed emotions about being recognized. On the one hand, he was proud to be an Angevin and descended from his father's royal line. On the other, he worried that people would think him some Dratori pretender, though, to be fair, it was the upper crust of society that held on to that particular twenty-five-year-old scandal. Few of the lower class remembered the names of the Admiral's family, let alone such details. All the same, it never left Eitan's mind.

"You can send someone to the Noble Gambit," he corrected. "Or I can make myself available at the proper precinct at a sunnier hour if that would make your work easier for you. While at safe harbor here in the city, it isn't difficult to take some brief leave for official business." As the constables were properly deferential, he was only too happy to be generous with them. Noblesse oblige and all that.

But he was quick to follow Brenner's lead in this as well: he shot his schnapps. It occurred to him that this was their first time handling a dangerous situation together, and he supposed it was gratifying that it had gone so swimmingly.

"Ah, don't fret, Grimace. We'll be plenty of custom for the remainder of the evening." He flashed a smile.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

"Ahh," The constable grinned, "I'll come by Onneifer Airfield tomorrow morning, then." He glanced to the shots on the bar and reconsidered, "You know what? Let's make it tomorrow afternoon. Let you sleep in after your..." He gestured broadly to the bloody scene, "...ordeal."

"You are too kind, Constable...?" Brenner let the title linger on his tongue to allow the man to identify himself.

"Constable Klast." The man replied, seeming rather honoured at the Air Commander's curiosity. This was their second meeting, so it wasn't odd that Brenner should be interested to know his name, but still- The Dornkirks were a very notable family, and Brenner's heroism on Glade the 8th had made the rounds enough to have put him on the map as an up-and-comer.

"Constable Klast." Brenner repeated, making conscious note to remember the name should he cross paths with this man again. "We'll let you get to your work. If you need us, we'll be..." He gestured to their ales, "...decompressing." And with that, Brenner took a seat at the far side of the bar from where the Rathari corpse lay. "Gormund, I apologise for the disruption to your business, this evening but, as you saw, violence could not be avoided in that situation."

Gormund parted his lips to reply, but seemed to stop himself before he got out whatever had been on his mind. Then he grunted and grumbled an unenthusiastic:

"Hail Zaichaer." Before turning to wipe down a few glasses, while the constables fussed over the two corpses and the air commanders sat as the sole remaining customers in his once-bustling bar.

"Good work, Angevin." Brenner said, sidelong. "I'll be sure to commend your valour in my report. You very well may have saved my life, tonight." Although he planned to ask the mortician which shot had been the killing blow to the Rathari, after the perfunctory autopsy was complete.

Fin