Lance sized up the man before him: around thirty years old, with a well-proportioned build and a handsome face, holding a longsword rather than the standard-issued spear.
The bloodstains on his person made it clear his words were true.
Lance remembered this man; he claimed his ancestors had once been knights. Although their glory had faded, they had left behind something of value.
As for his reason for coming, it was simple: he had killed a few thugs while protecting his wife and child, offending the local gangs, and thus had to seek sanctuary.
"Very good! Your family has its status as free citizens restored, and you are promoted to Guard Captain. Come and receive your reward."
Lance had always been unconventional in his use of people. If you had ability, you were in; if not, you were out. Do well and be rewarded; fail and be punished.
When that weighty bag of copper coins landed in the man's hands, his typically stern face could not help but reveal a ripple of emotion.
