The gods, Pontius Philus Orelius decided, were arseholes. The towering man in front of him stood clearing his immense warhammer from the loop on his belt. Pontius repeated his question “Are you Lief Gunderson, of the clan Gunder, son of Gunder and member of the Nortmen tribes?” The slap of the warhammers stone head hitting the meat of the Nortmans palm punctuated his question and seemed to quietly reverberate in the silence of the now deathly quiet tavern common room
“What if I am little Toad?” The Nortman’s mocking tone made fun of his lacquered green Politian armour. His cold eyes and easy confidence making the absurdity of Pontius’s challenge plain to all within the tavern. The Nortman began laughing and looking around at his cronies “Have you come to take me away?”
The rest of the men in the tavern began laughing now. No-one liked the Politia, and everyone wanted to see the little Sunderman in his green armour taken down a peg, or two, or ten. Pontius smiled at the Nortmans laughter and repeated his question a hard note of command entering his voice “Are you Lief Gunderson, and will you submit to testing, or present proof of your service or citizenship?”
The laughter in the bar died down, this little toad was not acting as expected. Surely he knew he was outnumbered tens to one, and even if no-one helped the Nortman he stood over 6 foot tall, was well muscled and carried a warhammer that must have weighed over 15 pounds. The Nortman carried it like he knew how to use it, he had the look of a man who would use it. Conversely Pontius’s head barely cleared the Nortmans solar plexus, and while his Politian scalemail was bulky it did little to hide his wiry frame and slender build. Everybody else seemed to know how this would go, why didn’t the Politian?
The Nortman’s face was red with anger now as he answered the little Politian “Yes I am Lief Gunderson little man, and I will go nowhere with you” Ponitus was already moving as the Nortmans massive warhammer barely clearing the ceiling came smashing down towards where his head used to be, the immense Nortman moving with unusual speed barely correcting his swing in time to avoid being thrown off his balance and arcing the hammer out to one side to follow Ponitus. Ponitus ducked under his swing his Gladius seemingly appearing from nowhere to appear to hand in a reverse grip, the hard steel ball of the pommel facing up the flat of the blade resting against his forearm, stepping forward inside the giants grasp he kicked out with his hard scaled sabatons catching the man on the inside of his right knee, quickly following with a rapid punch of the gladius’s pommel to man’s vulnerable solar plexus. The Nortmans breath escaped him in a single massive gasp he droped to his uninjured kneed heaving and struggling to breath, stepping closer now Pontius grasped the man by his shirt collar and smashed the pommel of his sword into the big man’s head once, twice, three times until he felt the man drop into unconsciousness and then danced backed swinging the Gladius around in his hand changing his grip to face the blade forward. He glared around the room, the stunned silence of the men within was almost deafening. He met each of their gazes and when he could he held it till they looked away. When he was sure that none would attempt to avenge their fallen friend he turned to consider the fallen Nortman before him.
Stepping forward Ponitus pulled the thin Lamia charmed silver bracelets from within his belt pouch while he rolled the big Nortman onto his front pulling his hands around behind him straightening the mans arms wile he slapped a bracelet on each wrist he muttered the word of binding and bracelets firmed and snapped together behind the mans back finding each other like separate pieces of loadstone. Pontius knew that no matter how hard he tried he knew the Nortman would not be able to separate the bracelets and free his hands.
“Lief Gunderson, of the clan of Gunder, son of Gunder, member of the Nortman Tribes. You stand accused of Desertion, Theft, Theft of Weapon, Murder, and Murder of a Citizen, You will return with me with to Cyphus Majoris and you will stand trial for your Crimes. Philus reached within him in a way he could never fully explain taping that core of magia within him and channelled it into the bracelets that bound the man’s hands behind his back. “You are bound by Law.” He felt his magia filling the lamia charmed bracelets and leaking into the big Nortman and when he knew the magia was in the right places he twisted it binding the man’s will to his own. “The Law will stand.”