Madman’s Retirement

Two guards stood in front of Grant, one seemingly apathetic, the other seemingly amused by the situation.

The beastman, seemingly of the cat variant, stood before the two, as his coat trembled a little too much for one person.

"If you don't have the fee required, than I can't let you in. You'll just have to stay outside the wall." said the former, clearly trying to tell the beastman in cloaks and rags to leave.

"Get lost subhuman! Turn back and go back where you came from. This city doesn't need shit like you!" taunted the latter. "You're better off looking somewhere else, this city has no place for you!"

It was about this time Grant decided to intervene. After all, there was no past time quite like sticking your nose where it didn't belong.

"What seems to be the trouble gentleman?" asked Grant.

The apathetic one gave him a look, before responding. "This beastman here lacks the wages he needs to get in, so I can't let him in. The best he can do is stay outside for tonight, and hope someone is willing to accept him for a ride back to wherever he came from."

"If he doesn't even have 5 bronze on him how can he expect anyone to take him! The subhuman may as well sell himself into slavery, at least he'll get something to eat and shelter! The best he'll get from me is shit!"

Grant gave him an amused look and gave the former guard a heavier stare. Not quite judgmental, but not quite favorable.

"Please let me in!" begged the beastman. "I had wages, someone must've taken them. I can work!" he emphasized the second part.

"Marcus, my old pal, I have been looking all over for you" began Grant, while the beastman's eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing.

"Yes, it's been a while... friend." He said awkwardly, earning skeptical stares from the guards.

"It's fine Marcus, I know its hard to remember my name. Last year I was Winston, last month I was Jeremiah Boar, today I'm Grant, Grant Grant Grant!" said Grant in a most ridiculous manner, and the guards faces went from skeptical, to dumbfounded.

"Grant, it's good to see you too." says Marcus, catching on now.

"Yes, Marcus, I saw you drop this earlier, you silly beast you" said Grant as he handed him a bag of coins. "You have to be more careful, the outside of outposts are dangerous, with all those serial killers wandering around."

Marcus had a confused face, but played along, though warily, thanks to the size of the bag of coins. "Thank you Grant, for finding my coins."

The latter guardsman showed a rather annoyed face, as Grant helped hand the needed fee to the guardsman in question. "Your 30 pieces of silver Judas." jeered Grant.

The former guardsman asked. "well, I must ask, before I allow him in, I need to see some identification. I cannot allow random vagrants in, for fear of letting someone dangerous in."

Too late for that.

Marcus the beastman froze up at that statement, as his face paled, and Grant rolled his eyes behind the mask. That wasn't something most people allowed in were required to give. They were merely required to give the 5 pieces of copper, and this was a rather amateur form of harassment. But normally it would do the job.

Grant sighed inwardly. He'd have to use a little bit of authority. Hopefully Gray was still slumbering.

Gathering some fragment of authority given to him by Gray, Grant created a identification card to identify Marcus here.

Normally, it wouldn't be hard for Grant to create it on his own, but currently, Grant's limited.

For one, Grant wasn't ready to expose himself to this world, at least not to the level where he'd attract a lot of unwanted attention.

Second, the problem wasn't mimicking the adventurer card, it was writing the name of Marcus on the adventurer's charter.

Grant had already seen the cards, hell he'd analyzed them down to the smallest enchantment. It wasn't hard to mimic the card with his level of ability.

The real problem was that Grant wasn't at the point where he could simply write Marcus' name on the charter of the adventurer's guild where the guild keeps record of all the people that became adventurers.

Apparently at some point falsification of adventurer identity had been so rampant that they created a highly protected magic charter, where the names of all recorded adventurer's were magically inducted from the individual guild centers.

Seems rather expensive, and it is, but in return for giving their organization some real validation, it was worthwhile.

In fact, the empire itself does so as well, though homeless people did not get id, so they were at a disadvantage. Such is life.

These records are obviously well protected too, so Grant needed to borrow a little god-level power to get it done nice and quickly.

In the end though, it was worth it to see the expression on the guards faces when he handed the guards two cards, each with their own identity.

With a scowl on the face of the latter adventurer, he read it aloud: "Marcus O'Leary". He then looked at the second card and paused.

"Ben O'Leary?" he asked, giving Grant a look.

Grant nodded. "Of course, for his son." He responded calmly, and with a simple move of his hand, moved the man's cloak, revealing a shivering child dressed in rags as well, glaring defiantly at the two guards, and Grant, earning the child a chuckle.

Guard 1 looked calm as usual, while the latter's face changed for a second, before returning to the same scowl as before.

"Fine!" he snapped. "Come in, at your own risk. I warned you beast. Bringing goddamn kids to a place like this." The man muttered that last part.

Grant gave his fee before heading in as well, but before he went in, he made sure to brush by guard two and give him a tip.

"I know what you were doing." The man glared back defiantly, and yet Grant only smiled.

"As thanks for your good heart, your wife's suffering from being too close to an alchemist's house while she's pregnant. Try snapwhisks."

The man's face slipped into shock, but Grant moved on, already deciding to catch up with the beastman.

When he caught up with Marcus, he could see the worry in the man's face, and decided it was a good thing he came to speak to him now. The last thing he wanted to do is to make the man think he did it for a favor.

The man bowed as deeply as he could, earning himself a sigh from Grant.

"Thank you sir. I don't know how I could ever thank you, but please-"

"Hush" Grant said as he put a finger on the man's trembling face.

'I must look so terrifying' thought Grant. 'A man without a face, but with horns like a devil comes up and helps you for "free".'

"I want nothing from you brat. I only did this for you because I didn't want to see you or that kid die."

The man's face shook, but he denied that statement. "That guard might've been mean, but I doubt he would've done something like that."

"Please, I don't mean that bluffing buffoon." said Grant exasperated. This, had the man looking perplexed.

"The other one." said Grant. "I read minds, that's how I know your name, and how you've gotten here now." A lie. Grant reads souls. Not everyone had their mind protected, but enough did. But the man wouldn't know that.

The man looked more surprised. His face was paling, and had Grant amused. Should he try something else to shock him? Grow a pair of wings? Bunny ears? Nah. He should probably focus on the matter at hand.

"Who are you?" whispered the man. "A concerned citizen." whispered Grant.

"Guard number one wanted you to stay outside so he could kill you like the other victims who were left outside. Guard number two was intentionally being racist to drive you out. Prejudice has been rising here, and the last thing you want to be is a poor man with a target on your back."

The man's brow furrowed as he looked at his son. "He's killing people?" the man whispered, trying to make sure his son couldn't hear.

His son, meanwhile, was looking around excitedly at all the new sights, and even food.

Sighing, Grant crouched down, and pulled out a honey pop for the child to eat.

Under his fathers supervision, the child put the pop in his mouth unsure, but joy blossomed on the boy's face, as he suckled on a honeybear honey pop.

It was shaped like a honeybear too, because kids love that.

Back to the conversation. "Yup, it's been happening for the last few weeks, but with the rise of non-human racism, they haven't had the time to investigate."

Oh, this day was not Marcus' best so far. "Won't my son be in danger?" he asked worriedly, and Grant nodded, both to respond, and to approve of the man's priorities.

"I wanted to get you away from the psychopath, and there's enough money in that pouch I gave you to rent a room for a few days before leaving."

He paused for a moment to allow Marcus to think.

"Of course, there's an alternative in the bag if you're so inclined. It's a painful solution, but if you're desperate to persevere, I leave you the choice."

Grant had said his piece and was prepared to leave.

Marcus stopped him for a moment "Wait" he pleaded, and Grant stopped walking, staring at the man.

The devilish mask had given the man a negative connotation, like a demon had ensnared him.

And now... he was a mysterious benefactor, help from the most of unusual places.

He had done so much already, and yet...

"Why?"

He couldn't read Grant's face.

"Because you really care about your child."

And he was gone.

Authority is the ability to bend reality to your might. 

Your right.

Only a small handful of beings get authority, which trumps most other beings ability to utilize magic. 

A magician specializing in fire cannot compete with a god of fire. 

The are essentially four main groups who have the ability to utilize authority. 

Cultivators, who are climbing the path to godhood. The higher they climb to the heavens, the greater authority they wield, though it pales in comparison to the rest, and even once they become gods, their authority will never reach the highest of the highs. 

Progenitors, who have reached the level of godhood via their population. Of course, their authority is limited to their people, and nothing else. The progenitor of goblins, for example, cannot make half the world's population pregnant with goblins, but he can cause all goblins within a certain range to become extremely fertile, or to increase their mana absorption, and their advancement to the next evolution.  Gob can also cast this authority on all progenitors connected to the goblin line, because sub progenitors has their authority added to the main progenitor. Their authority can be used to negate others authority though, otherwise they'd never be able to compete. 

Gods of faith, derive their authority from the faith of the people, and is dependent on both quality and quantity of faith, as well as what they believe in. 

Old gods, have far more authority than all the others on this list. Even the weakest of old gods has authority equal to a mid tier god of faith. And just like cultivators, an old god's authority is dependent on their understanding, and old gods can only study their path. Unlike cultivators however, old gods can abandon their path at any time, and adopt a new authority, unlike all the others, whom it would take centuries to build a new authority, but for old gods, it's but a few decades to start a new one. 

All god's can grant a fraction of authority to their choice of avatar. And I, have a lot of authority. First off, I have my own authority as a cultivator. 

Second, I serve 8 different old gods, and they have all granted me a fraction of their authority, and since old god authority is essentially malleable to no end, I can use it for whatever I want, without the decades long cooldown. I also have a few old god friends, who grant me some of their authority, which allows me a high amount of reality control. 

It's for this reason I create so many species, with the intent of raising progenitors under my command, who allow me very powerful chess pieces.

I don't touch faith based authority. It's too unreliable and has the drawback of influencing the user. No thanks.

-Grant, on the authority of gods.