The First Notoriety Of Renard Cox

Weeks, months, and years smoothly pass. Renard is a fresh adult, and life has settled quite well.

He is now a city guard of Sebilles, trained under the guild. His ascension to journeyman has secured him his own sword, and a salary that funds his day-to-day comfortably. City locals know him and find reassurance not just in his commitment to catching miscreants, or his efficacy at doing so, but in his boldly upbeat demeanour that dispels the tension of conflicts instantly. Though not the height he envisioned when he entered this work, the sincere respect and gratitude he has earned from everyday townsfolk is enough for him to feel refreshingly purposeful, with eventual long-term prospects of perhaps leading the guard, staying in this vocation indefinitely.

He has even, and this is truly amazing, been trained how to handle a horse! Though not able to personally own one, or experienced in mounted combat, that the guild carries prestige enough to even allow this opportunity in its parades is breathtaking.

Actually, the guild has received substantial upscaling from the King recently. There is of course a need to replace the local guard forces that were posted in Pilamine, but even then the crown’s focus on training decent bladesmen has been quite high, these past years…

Rather, speaking of Pilamine. Today a missive from the guild reaches Renard, ordering him to discipline some Lacrenese guards who’ve been harassing Pilamine citizens. Finding the task both quite simple and quite important, he gathers a team and sets out to Pilamine.

He arrives and locates the miscreants. After a sting to confirm they are bothering civilians, Renard dresses them down in a public square, strips their lead officer of his rank, promotes the guardsmen who weren’t involved, and has them inflict the theatrical humiliation of the miscreants further. The Pilamines must feel reassured that Lacren will not tolerate such behaviour from their authorities, but also cannot feel too bold as to not respect the Lacrenese presence. Though the balance in how hard to disgrace the miscreants is delicate, Renard feels, looking over the tense but amused crowd, that he’s found it.

An onlooking Pilamine noble rolls his eyes at the display. Ah, the joys of occupation…

Pricked, Renard asks what he means.

The noble spreads his arm and drolly continues. It irks him that a Lacrenese presence remains here at all, much less one that’s been badgering the populace and making nuisances of his everyday life. Now we have these productions in our square… what fantastic presents that ghoul of yours gives us.

Mostwhich your offices, untaken by foreigners, Renard snaps, growing angry.

Yes yes, I have nothing but gratitude to Lacren, the noble says with no gratitude at all, for stealing our water, thirsting our poor, and filling our city with muscle-brained brigands.

Renard feels himself growing more frustrated. It’s true the Pilamines suffered casualties from water shortages in the year following the Iron King’s first campaign, while the water plants were still growing in. But that was years ago. Their supplies have stabilised now, it’s all a matter in the past. So what alternative is this man implying is so preferable? That the Iron King annex the city, oust its citizens, and convert the land into Lacren’s water farm? Or that, buying water, Lacren subordinate itself under Pilamine influence in a manner similar to what this man bemoans now?

In the first case, he is an ingrate who fails to appreciate the Iron King’s mercy. In the second case, he is a hypocrite chewing on sour grapes that his side didn’t win — even though, considering the Pilamines’ continued existence, they’ve hardly lost either.

And yes it’s true the guardsmen have been rowdy and undisciplined, but that’s why Renard is here, on the Iron King’s orders, to fix it! Even if you don’t appreciate it, and will spit the Iron King’s kindness back in his face, he’s enough of a human being to give a crap about you people!

Spittle flies as Renard yells at the nobleman’s disrespect. Do you not appreciate how well the King holds this city!

The noble’s eyes widen, taken aback at Renard’s intensity. Baffled, he questions why Renard cares so much about the honour of the ghoul. He is only a foot-guard; professing so much loyalty won’t win him any special reward.

Hearing this, Renard snaps. Overtaken by rage, he beats the nobleman brutally, still screaming all the while. Attention shifts off of the punishment of the miscreant guards, onto Renard’s outburst — a show of barbarity as bad, if not worse, than the behaviour he came here to discipline.

Once Renard reclaims himself, and finds himself holding the lapels of an unarmed nobleman he has pulped into the cobbles, he is mortified. He backs away in horror and shame from the noble, who lays there curled with palms raised for mercy.

An exceedingly quiet journey proceeds back to Sebilles. The gazes of Renard’s teammates bore into him, nobody daring to say anything, but all plainly amazed at how badly Renard erred. As they report what happened in Pilamine, all Renard can do is find a good corner to tremble in and try not to cry.

He could stand to be demoted — at least. The worst part is he can’t even explain why he acted so violently. If someone were to accuse him of being a simple thug, or a puffed-up mercenary, drawn to the guild that he may batter civilians and be generally dishonourable without consequence, no real counter-argument to that coheres in his mind. Surely his superiors know that’s not why he joined, and not an ethic he’s ever abided, so surely they’d understand, surely, surely, but, wouldn’t it also reflect badly on them to let him go unpunished? A nobleman so bold must have influence, and Renard’s hardly valuable enough to matter more than relations with Pilamine…

Either way he’s a disgrace. Even if the guild miraculously doesn’t drop him, the damage to his career will leak inevitably, and the reputation of being the guy who mishandled one simple mission and mindlessly brutalised a Pilamine noble will stick for as long as he stays in this city.

His heart hammers as he stands before his superiors. Their calm, confused, and vaguely disappointed demeanour inflicts a far keener shame than if they’d just shouted. They predictably ask why Renard beat the noble, but Renard can only squeak with a strained throat, shaking his head, mouth open stupidly. He weakly manages, knowing it is no excuse: The man spoke poorly of the King.

Renard, the man is a Pilamine, his superior calmly notes this truth that Renard already knows. It is unpleasant, but not treason, for a Pilamine to speak in that manner.

Renard’s face flushes with shame. What nonsense is it for Pilamines to be allowed such a privilege — was that not a breeding ground for rhetoric that could provoke threats toward Lacren’s throne? But he cannot voice this, for the relative freedom the King has given Pilamine is a demonstration of his good character, and compromising that liberty gives Pilamines the grievances to accuse the King as a ghoul. Moreover, it’s not that different from the liberty of speech Lacrenese civilians have, either.

Renard’s superior continues, noting that regardless of that, Renard’s behaviour was unprofessional.

So he’s not getting out of this. So he is going to get demoted — and maybe have to leave the city to some podunk town and locals will wonder why he was transferred and they’ll hear the rumours and figure it out and they’ll know what he did and they’ll all think he’s stupid and that he messed up and even if he does perfectly he’ll never get a position in Sebilles as a guard again and even if he did people would still know and think he was unfit for it and so if he wants to stay in Sebilles he has to—

—well maybe he ought hear what his punishment actually is first, and if it’s anything that’ll put him outside of the city, then he can trust this surge of urgency to move him to announce: I quit!

Forcing himself to keep quiet and still, his superior glances down at his desk and takes a breath to speak.

A knock at the door interjects. A courier has arrived from the castle to summon Renard. The Iron King wishes to speak with him.

Relief washes through Renard, followed quickly by confusion and hope. Yes, it is scary that the Iron King noticed Renard’s misbehaviour — but perhaps there are factors unknown to Renard that will lead the Iron King to lessen his punishment, for he is merciful. Forgetting the circumstances, the opportunity to show the Iron King how far he’s come as a guardsman might also, make him proud.

Renard pursued this whole course for him, after all. See! Renard wishes to announce. I got this far thanks to you — you’re a hero! And here are all the wonderful experiences that devoting myself to you has given me…

With this odd blend of fear, uncertainty, hope, and admiration mixing in his chest, Renard is escorted to the palace.

The Iron King waits atop the outer steps, which pricks Renard as awry. Is this all going public? But what does the King benefit by publicly going soft on Renard?

Steeling himself, he shoves aside that doubt and climbs the stairway to the King. But with every step, more and more, the idea of joyfully regaling the King with the positives he’s brought to Renard’s life feels less and less smart. Unable to discern whether it’s coming from his own guilt or the Iron King’s aura, the impulse to grovel for leniency overtakes his gut.

Caught between these contrary attitudes, and unsure which the Iron King wants, Renard freezes stuck before him.

The Iron King smiles brightly, and as though he’s greeting an old friend, “Renard, I’m happy to see you."

…

Renard’s face crooks into a smile to reciprocate. Faced with such ideal words, why does he still feel the need to reassure himself this encounter will go okay?

Renard stumbles his reply, “m-my Liege…"

The Iron King dips his head in acknowledgement and notes how long it’s been since they last spoke, and how well it seems Renard has done for himself in the interim. With this being the topic he wanted to talk about anyway, Renard eases himself into responding sincerely despite this unassailable, lingering doubt. Even so, he cannot deny a dampening of his enthusiasm, and a wariness that restricts him from telling his stories with the detailed flourishes he naturally would. Actually, surprisingly, he is somewhat hoping for this conversation to end quickly.

Satisfied, the Iron King switches topics to Renard’s encounter with the Pilamine noble. A strange relief comes over Renard: finally, the punishment can be given, he can leave, and begin working on redeeming himself over the next years…

The Iron King claps Renard’s shoulder, still smiling, as he turns to the small crowd below.

“I name Renard Cox," he announces, “an exemplary knight of Lacren."