Meat shield recruitment

Beyern parted the sparse early day crowd, chasing after the potential party member.

Fortunately, there wasn't anyone who got in the way, and most were just enjoying the spectacle.

He was able to slowly close in with his adult physique, which was suprising since he expected the serf to have {Conditioning}, though he didn't get a good look at their musculature so they may have it, but their malnurished condition was hindering them.

He even noticed them breathing heavily as their decrepit sandals touched the floor, getting closer as time passed.

But Beyern's mind was pretty much certain that they would go into a suitable alleyway as soon as they can find one, like one that isn't a dead end.

It would only be natural for there to be at least a few planned escape routes, though they could be an idiot and only have one in the direction she was planning on running- Across him- And not any in this direction.

Though Beyern's fears were soon realized when the cloaked figure turned towards the side of the street, him following a bit behind.

He kept his left hand to his sword which was to the same side of his body, keeping a precaution against any possible ambush. He knew how thorough a paranoid underworld denizen can be, after all, he used to be one-

Even if a diet version, with him not getting that deep into endless abyss of criminality. How else would he be able to claw himself out?

He rushed after the little scamp, and saw them turn a corner with haste.

He followed closely behind, but was confused as to why they were sitting to the wall. But not one to ask too many questions- He just assumed they had some kind innate impulse to sit there- And quickly grabed them by the throat, lifting them up.

He looked as they struggled to free themself, but not using the thing that differentiated humans from any common beast; Wisdom- And arms, because she kept her hands to her throat for whatever reason.

He tilted his head and raised one of his eyebrows, thinking of what to do with the little thief. This was all started with him suddenly snapping his mind to recruiting them- 'Alright, this is getting annoying.'

"We can't talk with that stuffy hood on you." He said in a mocking tone while using his free hand to reveal the brat's face.

'A girl? Huh, I guess it does make sense that gender doesn't matter to one's ability to pickpocket, I will now rectify this misogenistic- And frankly illogical- Notion.' He thought as he took up a face of complete neutrality.

-So back to his thoughts, Beyern had started on the impulse of recruiting her- Or enslaving her or something, even if slavery wasn't legal in the empire- But he realized he knew literally nothing about her except that she could use that skill to a pretty natural level.

Who knew if the girl had actually had a class since she was 5 and the last seven or so years allowed her to get to her current point with her total lack of talent?

So even if he lacked an investigator class, he would have to do some interrogation "What is your class?" He asked, with slight irretation mixed in to expidite the process.

Beyern raised his brow after a moment, only getting the defiant attempts to escape his, not starved, hand. He shook her a bit by rotating his wrist a few times "So, I asked you something- And as someone who would like to continue living- you should do your best to answer, now; What is class."

His repetition of the previous question was accompanied with a temporary tightening of his grip, when interrogating, even if to ascertain when to recruit someone, it's easiest to use physical means as leverage if possible. It even helped to establish himself above the serf.

Well, even he didn't, it would be obvious he was in the dominant posistion in their relationship- If they had any- Since he wasn't as poor as someone exiled to the Abyss.

After a few moments of pause from the subject of the interrogation, she said slightly nervous; "I-I'm a 'Crimson warrior'."

Beyern sifted through his mental class repisitory to search for it's details, thing was, he didn't have them. It was from what he could remember... A rare variant of the warrior archetype that was above 'Warrior', having the non-magical equivelant of aspects, a principle, in a few of their skills.

The big boys of warriors, Juggernaughts, Champions and the like, were far to rare for him to get from a slum dredge, even if there were one, they'd be taken in by a proper faction.

It had some lifesteal abilities which was a massive boon, through it's motif of 'Blood is fuel' isn't the most... Socially acceptable notion.

But he was him, someone who didn't care about that "What skills do you have?" He was expecting only one, and that would be totally reasonable, since there weren't really a lot of chances for achievements associated with Crimson Warriors in the slums as a pickpocket.

The slum rat once again dared to not give Beyern his well deserved respect, on account of the fact her life was in the palm of his hand, he quickly disiplined her by slapping her across the face.

If he were to just tighten his grasp once more, it wouldn't be as threatening as the first time, people get used to things quite quickly. And this philosophy of his was quickly affirmed;

"-Uu-uhhh I only have [Second wind] ok-!" He tightened his grip for just a split second to stop her rising voice, clicking my tongue multiple times, saying in response "Now, little rat, don't let the void get you on your toes. Your voice might wake a windego, and nobody wants that."

It seemed she had [Second wind], it fit into the puzzle perfectly, so there was no reason to doubt- But he still did, just a slight bit.

"Any good masteries perchance?" He asked off-handedly giving her a little shake to prime her for the next question- Well, more like command- that was due in small amount of time.

This time, instead of defiance while not answering, she seemed to completely pause her scramblings as if she were trying to listen to something "-I-I have {Conditioning} and {Dagger mastery}."

"Stars and rank?"

"Uh- 0-star, rank 0 and 2-star, rank 0."

Dissapointing, but he didn't know how long she had her class yet, how much she trained, and how willing she was to be his new indentured servant "How long have you had your class?"

"Three... Three months now." She said, seemingly giving up hope at escaping Beyern's superior male- trained and adult too- hands.

Or maybe she had placed her hope on him not killing her, and dredging her up from the slums. Which would be wise of her to do, since he was honestly considering it now, three months was quite a long time yes, but you needed to take into account all the disadvantages of being a serf.

She probably had little to no information about skills, masteries, the principle mastery that she lacked, or how to train and improve in any of those aspects. She definently didn't have an art of some kind either- Which was fair since he didn't have one, those were usually kept in the family.

Though it was quite annoying she seemed to listen to the system about all that information, or was being told what to say by some higher power. The former was probable, but the latter was possible.

But even he wasn't paranoid enough to honestly believe that, he'd just put it in the back of his head and planned passively look for clues. It wasn't that uncommon for an illiterate to interact with the system through vocal word instead of writing.

'Huh, I think these last few moments of prevading silence were enough to shake up the rat's nerves.' He had kind of gotten lost in the suspicion for a moment, the reason he was never to fond of close relationships "Just one more question, and your fate shall be decided!

How long has it been since the magic words 'You have gained the class 'Crimson warrior'' graced any one of your senses? Like any, even your sense of balance, since that happens sometimes." He said casually, he had already forged an excentric personality for interrogation, wouldn't hurt to keep it that way.

"Three months ago?" She said smoothly with some confusion, not realizing this was actually another interrogation tactic. That obvious befuddlement without any hesitation, the notion that Beyern had seen through her measly deception not crossing her mind.

Which usually meant that it wasn't a lie! Of course, he would never cast aside the idea she was a master actor, he was one himself but for only specific roles.

He laughed slightly, and let the kiddo drop to the floor. He brought his face back to the standard neutral smile after finally ending the interrogation, and warned the tense child as the elder he was "You shouldn't try to run, I can cripple your legs from a distance. Since; I'm a mage, now isn't that suprising?"

He pushed out the mana he had prepared for emergencies through his hand, and let it circle around me for a moment or two before secretly retrieving it through his back.

The effect just wouldn't be the same if he took the mana back like some beggar, and right now he was a mysterious and exentric man, which was so easy to fake if you just had thick enough skin.

Seeing the will to escape leave her eyes and posture, it was time to quickly explain to her what was going to be happening

"Okay, so I'm- I'm not going to remember your name, I'll just give you a new one. Uh... Ser- Seria? That's a good enough name, nice and short," He nodded while basically talking to himself, he turned to the newly renamed pickpocket "Your name is Seria from now on."

The confusion she was showing was positive, best for recruitment "So, here's the deal Seria. You tried to steal, which was bad, mostly because you attempted it on me. Couldn't care less about the other poor saps you transmutated into poor losers.

Under normal circumstances I would break every bone in your body, then kill you. But since you were so kind to- As I can see it- Not lie while I was satisfying my inquisitive nature.

I would kill you with only a single strike to the head with a magic missile, well... That's what I'd usually do in these circumstances, but certain conditions have been met, and a new path has opened up for you!" Beyern said as if genuinely happy for her.

"What? 'Path'? Where?" The poor sod not knowing of hyperbole and other metaphorical usages of words stated, ignorant of the ways of the world.

"In terms you could understand; Either die by my hands this very moment, or become my servant/slave/teammate. I think the choice is obvious." He said, with his right hand being put infront of him, moving along with his words for emphesis.

She was instantly rooted to the ground, instantly becoming drenched in sweat somehow.

Beyern sneered slightly and took out his sword while bursting out his magic missile components for if she tried to run away "I'll take this silence as you not appreciating my generosity, and choosing death, any objections?"

"Of course I do!"

"So you'll be my servant?" He asked while putting the tip of his sword to the rat's neck.

"Will I not be killed if I become your servant?"

"Yes, you will be able to live to see the next sunrise."

"Can I be something else... The title's a bit..."

"You could be my slave." Beyern said as if it were a good offer.

Seria the serf made a twitching smile "I think it's better to be your servant."

"Good, I always believed in you to make the right choice, like when Juliasn decided to not get to big for his britches, and not try to learn about the Eye of the moon." He said, letting the refrence come naturally like a flowing river.

Seeing Seria had no culture in her veins, he sighed while sheathing his blade and mana "Come now, take this as a dredge of sorts, I will not allow my servant to be so filthy."

It was also a nice chance to go buy some armour too, since he was still just wearing a t-shirt, shoes, underwear and pants basically.

No protective equipment in sight.

He had four silver in liquid funds from all the beyklir hunting, that'd be enough for some good clothes for the girl, maybe even a short sword of acceptable quality, and enough left over for some studded leather armour and a cloak for him.

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Author note; So, uhhh, that's the end of my slowing down of the release schedule over, it'll be 1 chap a week, probably on sunday.