The Nirijin, Sacred Keepers of Knowledge and Guardians of the Shadows, they seek to protect and serve their Masters. Intelligent they may be, thieves they can be known, honorable they are to be.
The Flute in Jack's hands, pressed against his lips, was wrapped in fringed twine and hollow bird bones with a head of a winged open beaked crow at its mouth. When the Flute of the Nirijin sounded, an odd sensation would pass through all those in the room. Nearly automatically the awe which had left the Guild Masters dumbstruck, faded.
Eerie yet soothing, the room filled with song. The dim lighting briefly became darker, revealing shapes moving about the edges of the room.
Monsters, the thought, had invaded. Summoned by the Angel who called. No one moved, not even the Commander of the Local Guard. He didn't put his hand on his hilt, unlike the Merchant, no one else felt the killing intent as it wasn't focused on them nearly enough.
As the instrumental song came to a close, the lighting returned. The flute once in Jack's hands, vanished without a trace, spent and gone.
Eight Lithe crow-like beings with black feathered arms appeared standing, flanking Jack on either side. They were dressed in light leather scaled short robes with daggers at their hips, and bows on their backs.
Their feathers looked to be as sharp as a steel blade, shining even in the dimmest of places with a metallic black hue. Their eyes large and glittery, taking in the shiny belongings of the various guests.
One out of all eight of them, held a staff and wore a magic charm around their neck. This one stepped forward, bringing its scrawny leg up onto the table, before walking to the center. Its head ticking side to side as it did so. Watching each and every one of them closely. Then, once it reached the nexus, he stopped as if frozen before shifting its gaze towards Remont.
"CAW!" It snapped its beak, causing the human to shudder and stir on his feet, almost falling backward at the sheer force behind the power of its call. As if its master's intent was its own.
Each of these crow-like beings were level fifty, it would take about three to five level twenties to put down one of them, depending if they even had the proper skills.
Taking in a deep breath, Jack would smell the air and release a relaxing exhalation. A bitter scent, a sour scent. Sweat and piss, the nobleman who had been acting so arrogantly just soiled his own garbs.
The fourteen year old squire boy from before entered the room on cue, walking over towards the table and standing beside Jack. "One of eight," his eyes were on the crow with the staff, "you and this boy will bring the fat merchant down to the dungeon. Until he has lost half his weight, he will remain there."
Essentially Jack's general plan was to strip this man of his status, his wealth and everything he had. Why? Because it was a warning to all those who stood against him. He had the means to take away everything they every knew, desired, had or even loved.
Be it by the hands of himself or the loyal hands of others he used.
"What!? No! You… You can't! You're not a King!"
"You are resisting?" Jack asked as his eyes turned towards the other Nirijin as they were spreading apart from one another. "Hm… It seems you're choosing to go against the well-being of the Monarch."
Drawing their bows from their backs and aiming them towards the man, they all began to creep around the table with their arrows notched on the straining string of their bows.
The man fell to his knees, blubbering as the soft clacking of the talons drew closer to him.
The young squire stood there, watching the crow-like beast on the table walk on across the wooden surface, before hopping down to the stone ground. His eyes flickered over to Jack one more time, before jogging over to the beings side. "What are you…?"
"Nirijin, We are Nirijin. What are you?"
The squire blinked a few times before making a faint smile, just as he then looked to the fat man who was surrounded by black feathered humanoids with large beaks and eyes on their faces.
The other members of the table dare not speak, they just stared and watched as the man was dragged out of the room by two of the Nirijin. Followed by the Squire and what appeared to be the 'alpha' member of the group of eight.
The other five remained in the room, standing by each of the exits.
"Now…" Jack looked towards Jarvis, "Mason… Interim Merchant Guild Master, Financial Advisor to the Castilian Lord of the City. You have been instated by this Solvent Administrator. Tell me, what is the current Tax rate of Third Estate?"
"Three Gold Coins standard."
Jack frowned at this, three gold coins? He may not know the general someone makes in a year or even a month, but three gold sounded like a lot. If six silver was one gold, then it was clear there was something wrong here.
"How many Silvers is a Gold?"
"… Pardon?"
"How many Silvers is a Gold." Jack repeated the question as it seemed the man was either confused, or curious as to why he was asking this. As if he wasn't educated in the means of the mint coin.
"Six Silvers to One Gold coin… Er.."
"Address me as you would Lord Carmichael." Jack referred to Ivan formally in this account to get a point across. He was the Castilian Lord's Equal for the time being, as he considered himself 'deputized,' but really in control.
"Lord Graham..." It sort of fit as he was an Angel, with six wings, a Seraphim.
"Lower it to three silvers standard. What are the nobles taxed with?" Jack asked as if there was a difference between the two groups, as he knew there were always a difference.
"One Gold, Lord Graham."
Jack frowned lightly at this, "Why are the nobles being taxed with less than the common folk?"
"There are more commoners than there are nobles, the rati--"
"Don't try choking arithmetic down into my brain, it's already there." Jack said as he looked over to the Financial Advisor, sharper eyes than the talons which held the room captive should this go sour.
"Then..."
"Oh I understand what you're trying to say, but there is no more or less. The commoners struggle to feed their children, they will grow unhappy. The Nobles profit off of the commoners through their bulky wages, do they not?"
Mason froze for a moment as he spoke of this. Jack wasn't wrong, nobles were paid in large sums and clumsily so. "Then what do you recommend?"
"I want to levy five percent of their wages and an additional five percent on their land taxes. These taxes will be centered on restoration of the City. Increasing the size of the garrison, militia, and bettering of the existing local guard. If we cannot police our streets, we most definitely cannot fend off a siege of angry Elves."
"A-angry elves Lord Graham?" Almost all of them stuttered in unison, except for the two members of House Carmichael, as they already now knew the Princess was just a means for the elves to invade.
"The Fae Imperium believe the Thirteenth Princess has been killed by the Greyhorn Kingdom," he'd surmise to the rest of them. She had been sent here for a reason, other than to just meaninglessly die.
That'd be a meaningless death, especially for a royal.
"That is abs--"
"Don't Object..." Lord Carmichael interjected when the Mage Guild Master tried to dismiss this claim as absurd simply out of the shock value. No one wanted a war. "She is alive and currently in the Castle in which we're all currently presiding."
"What?" The Commander asked as he looked to the Lord, then towards Jack. "How is she here?"
"I saved her when traitorous Sir Reginald was keeping her in a sack under a bar counter, and it was evident his gang of hooligans were using her as a toy..." Though Jack was generally disgusted with the way the Elf had been treated, it was the perfect way to brainwash someone into submission. "So even though she is alive, and the evidence had been visibly removed, there may be repercussions either way."
"Considering they wanted her dead anyways..." The Adventurer's Guild Master frowned at this, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers heavily spaced out.
The Financial Advisor's gaze remained on the table, he had known Reginald had been up to no good. "Speaking of Sir Reginald… Where is that fellow? Is he being held in the Dungeon?" His eyes bounced over to Jack.
"He's dead, he attempted and failed to kill me as well as my party on two occasions."
The Advisor's jaw slackened for a moment before he nodded. A trained and proclaimed elite Knight had been eliminated by the Angel. It was clear that his prowess which he had already demonstrated was no fluke. "And I assume with the rest of his men at arms?"
"Yes, you are correct," Jack gave a faint smile which quickly faded from his lips as he turned his eyes towards Cassandra who was looking to the ceiling.
He could tell she wasn't looking at anything in particular. She was bored, the exciting things had already been done and over with. He swore he had seen her smiling earlier, widely, when he had the fat man pulled away by the crows.
She had gone from an arrogant and loud girl, to a much softer and quieter one. Though he was sure she was still going to be blatant and bratty, but probably not as much… Especially after what he had done.
The idea of being able to do anything and be virtually scot-free of most permanent repercussions, he knew would eventually get to his head. He was used to being secluded to a bed, not being to run around, not being able to interact with a number of people except for through games.
The only problem which was hitting him in the back of the head, was the probability that there was someone out there as strong as him or other players?
Even though people haven't come out of the dungeons when they first appeared, doesn't mean there aren't any players or the like. It was starting to make him exceptionally even more curious of the world.
He wanted to see more than this city, he just needed to turn this into a stronghold, be it permanent or a temporary one. There was another thing he wanted to test, an item which could move one's Guild Base. Was he still connected to the game world? Did his Guild base still exist?
With most of his agenda met, the group would begin to converse amongst themselves.
Allowing Jack to learn about the Adventurer's Guild and their alphabetical ranking system. Apparently they had mirrors that are able to see the level of the being standing directly in front of it.
The highest being a level thirty two in all of the world's history.
Though Jack was sure that there had to be one or two people who were stronger than that at one point, and simply avoided getting their level's measured. That or they had magic that could fool the mirror.
Though the Adventurer Guild Master declined the possibility, despite Jack having a spell that could do just that in his collective knowledge of spells from the game world.
Apparently Cassandra was a former Student at the Magic Academy in a neighboring City, before coming back to learn exclusively from the Mage Guild, after a problem with the Headmaster.
Jack wasn't the only one who she had verbally harassed after just meeting them.
It seemed her head needed realignment, but first… Jack needed a test subject, and he had the perfect ones, the people in the Dungeon beneath the Castle.
In particular, the person who he had just sent down there made the best candidate. The last thing he needed was someone to raise against Carmichael, so he might as well poke his brain...