Were words easily sputtered by anyone not as great as Maarschalk. Anyone not as great Maarschalk would consider this mission to be of poor motive – C-ranks should be about mighty warriors, slaying mighty dragons and the such. Shouldn’t it? These were the internal arguments that men had, men not as great as the great Maarschalk.
The great Maarschalks opinion differed from other(s) opinion. He knew that the position in which the lord noble held, was a title of such prestige and what accompanied this prestige was reputation. His old hands stretched out to those who are poor, and dropped a coin of gold in those palms – and those people are happy and satisfied. Why wouldn’t they be? An easy coin is made by forcing a smile. The civilians in this town had an odd appearance to tourists. Tourists like Maarschalk especially were caught off-guard easily. Kissing the ring was a thing here. Slaves in modern outfits, pretending to be free – that’s what Maarschalks perception of this town was. The nobles that ruled the streets in these parts, ruled them with gold instead of respect. The respect that they were given by its people was given because of their gold.
Unlike Orchidia, where respect is given to the powerful and bold. The thing that made this town different from many others was its ability to seem happy – but maybe they were happy and Maarschalk just didn’t realize it. These were all possible possibilities, but, could the great Maarschalk make such a mistake? Was it his inability to discern true happiness from false happiness? The happiness one puts up when they’re pretending to be, to hide their sadness and crippling depression.
He couldn’t be a victim of such misconception. With his stubborn mind focused on one thing and one thing only; gold; he proceeded onwards in this town. He pranced like a fairy, under the spotlight of the common eye. His strut reminded some of the locals of a jester that had been wandering through these parts earlier this year. Needless to say, with Maarschalks reputation – only few recognized him. And these figures who did recognize him were mages who spent most of their time dwelling their own guild, emptying the stock of its beer and meat. This town didn’t leave a positive impression on Maarschalks. Many had come here to find new life, but most of its location used to be locals. They grew up through the generations and went onwards to be the pioneers of the city. Some held their responsibility, and some became relevant in the politics of this city.
This cities name was Magnolia. The home of the fairies, Fairy Tail; which was irrelevant to most of civilization, it was relevant for Maarschalk. A Lamian- Scale mage. Who was the greatest, at least, according to his own thoughts.
It wasn’t more than a few hours ago, when he was wandering the street that he caught a noble in the corner of his eye drop a coin of pure gold in the hand of a local. This local who had lived here for quite some time seemed to understand the underground economics of this town. Where nobles pay you off to do something silly.
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