Match your pulse with the rhythm of combat, and you'll dominate any fight.
"To the magistrate's offices," Penelope said. "I've explained to the guardsman what our intentions are. And for that, we will need certificates as well. If we can acquire a license of some sort, our business going forward will be much easier."
Half those terms washed straight over Vol's head. He'd never needed a license in his life for anything. Anything that he'd wanted, he'd either had to wait for, or he'd taken it himself. He certainly hadn't been to a magistrate's office either.
He wasn't quite sure what to expect. Somehow, even expectations seemed to be a waste of time, for whatever was going to happen, it seemed as if they were quite firmly caught up in an unavoidable flow by now.