The Scarred Commissioner (Crimson Storm: REWRITE, chapter 2)

Jeremy whistled to himself cheerily as he filed the latest batch of reports. Office work wasn’t nearly as boring as he’d expected it to be; in fact, it was rather peaceful. Sitting inside a clean and air conditioned office instead of trekking through mud and rain was a nice change of pace.

Still, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t miss fieldwork at times. Fighting criminals and monsters gave him a sense of excitement that simply wasn’t present in the confines of his office. Even so, Jeremy knew that he’d likely never grow any stronger than he currently was; his mind simply didn’t have the potential to grow any further than it already had, and since magic was the only worthwhile form of power, he probably wouldn’t rise any further in the ranks of the Magic Council, and that meant he wouldn’t see fieldwork anytime soon, so it was likely for the best that he enjoyed this peaceful life of working in the desert compound. Still… There was a small part of him that-

A knock on the office door shook Jeremy from his musings, “Come in,” he called out, “it’s unlocked!”

A disheveled looking recruit burst through the door. Jeremy wondered if they were suffering from heatstroke; their brow glistened with sweat and their face was bright red. However, his misgivings about the youth’s health were swiftly abandoned when they spoke up:

“Sir!” They saluted, “Major Daniel wants to speak with you!”

Jeremy’s heart rate began to speed up considerably, “What?! Why would the major want to speak with me? Did he say what he wanted?”

The recruit shook their head, “No, sir! He just said that it had something to do with your report on the Bronze Grasslands!”

Jeremy sighed heavily, “Alright, I’ll go see him then.”

“Would you like me to escort you, sir?” the recruit offered, “You never know what might be-”

“No,” Jeremy held up a hand to silence the overzealous youth, “I can find my own way there, and my well-being is none of your business. Now go rest in the barrack. If your commander protests, then tell them to come speak with me. That will be all.”

The scout quickly saluted and left the room.

Standing up, Jeremy quickly retrieved the most recent survey of the Bronze Grasslands. He didn’t know what the major found wrong with his report, but it would probably be wise to bring his scouts’ report with him; just in case there was a typo or statistical error in his write-up.

Taking a deep breath, Jeremy retrieved a key from his back pocket and began locking the door to his workplace. With that all said and done, he began to make his way to the major’s office.


“How strange…” Connor muttered to himself as he inspected his blade.

He’d used the sword plenty of times whilst operating in the Bronze grasslands, and since blades typically dulled with use, he thought that he’d try sharpening it. Much to his surprise, however, he found that the blade hadn’t lost its edge at all. Even after slicing criminals clean in half, the odd sword was still in top shape.

“What’s up?” the scout asked as she saw him muttering to himself, “Something wrong with your weapon?”

“…No. The opposite, actually.” Connor said as he ran his hand along the flat of the blade, “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about enchantment runes, would you?”

The scout shook her head, “Nah, but I think our new commissioner might. I heard that he was well-educated, so you could probably ask him about it.”

“Hm…” Connor grunted as he considered this. He’d certainly like to learn more about his weapon and what its hidden power might be, but he didn’t like the idea of associating with the Magic Council’s upper ranks. He’d heard some nasty rumours from other bounty hunters regarding some of the upper ranks’ intolerance to non-wizards. Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to ask if he got the chance.

“Maybe you’re right. Where’s your commissioner stationed?” Connor asked.

“Hm… I think it was somewhere in the Savera wastes, but I don’t really remember the exact location. I could ask my commander if you’d like.” The scout offered.

Connor shook his head, “Don’t bother. If it’s anywhere in the deserts of central Magius, then I’m not going there. I almost died the last time I traveled through that area; the bloody place is a death trap. Filled to the brim with monsters and bandits looking for their next meal.”

“If it’s so ridden with baddies, then wouldn’t that be the place you’d want to go?” The scout asked, “That’s how you make your living after all, and monsters fetch a higher bounty than criminals when you bring them in dead.”

Connor grimaced slightly, “You seem to forget that I don’t have the luxury of magic. Taking down a monster with my current weaponry would be… difficult, to say the least. Plus, many of the bandits in that region are several cuts above what you’d find on the Eastern Peninsula. I hear that some of them can even use esthra.”

The scout fixed him with a puzzled look, “Esthra? What’s that?”

“Bloody hell,” Connor cursed, “do they teach you anything in the Magic Council?”

“Hey, they teach us lots of things!” The scout said defensively, “Like how to use magic, and… uh… tracking! They taught us loads of stuff about tracking criminals.”

“…but they neglected to tell you about esthra?” Connor sighed, “Look, most bandits just swing sharp objects around and act tough, but some of the actually dangerous ones use a thing called ‘esthra’ to power up their attacks.”

“Oh, is that how you were able to slash my blast spell out of the air?” The scout asked.

“No, I can’t use esthra.” Connor replied with a hint of spite, “If I could… well, I wouldn’t need to hunt bounties. I’d probably try to convince the Alalean or Castelian militaries to hire me for my skills, or I’d work as hired muscle for one of the merchant guilds.”

“Do they pay well?” the scout asked.

“Well,” Connor chuckled, “they pay better than collecting corpses for the Magic Council. Anyways, if you see a bandit moving faster than the eye can see or cutting someone in half from five meters away, run.”

“…Thanks for the tip.” The scout muttered, as if she wasn’t already gonna run if she saw something like that happen.

“Well!” Connor sighed as he got up, “I should really get going; these bounties aren’t gonna cash themselves in.”

“Hey, let me come with you.” The scout offered, “I can show you the way to the nearest outpost. Besides, the commander will want to hear about this.”

“What would the commander want to hear about?” Connor asked absentmindedly as he placed the heads of his victims in a bloodstained leather sack, “A single bounty hunter in the area isn’t much of a report.”

“Well… yeah,” the scout admitted, “but you did take out the bandit camp that I was tasked with scouting.”

Connor paused for a moment before turning to look at his unlikely companion, “You were on a scouting mission?”

The scout nodded.

“I see…” Connor grumbled as he threw the sack over his shoulder. If she was on a simple scouting mission, then why did she attack the camp? “Alright then, show me the way.”


Jeremy took a deep breath as he arrived at the major’s office door. Preparing himself for the verbal onslaught he was likely to endure, he gave the door a polite knock.

“Come in!” A gruff voice called from inside.

Jeremy coughed as he walked into the room, the whole office reeked of tobacco smoke.
“You wanted to speak too me, sir?” he asked.

The major looked up from the large stack of papers on his desk. He was an older man; most of his hair was a ghastly grey and his face had plenty of wrinkles, “Ah, it’s you.” he said, his voice was coarse; a tribute to the veteran’s many years of smoking and yelling.

The major calmly sifted through the papers on his desk until he found the document he was looking for; showing it to Jeremy, he asked: “Why are these numbers so high? It’s a drastic change from last month’s report.”

“Well, er, it’s what was reported by the scouts.” Jeremy explained sheepishly, “I have the documents here if you want to look at them.”

“Alright, hand 'em over.” The major grumbled, taking the papers from him.

The majors face scrunched up in confusion as he examined the scouts’ report. After staring at the numbers for a solid minute, he sighed and asked, “You’ve just been promoted to the rank of commissioner, right?”

“Yes…?” Jeremy confirmed, unsure where the major was going with this.

The major cursed, “Well, let’s hope you have some natural talent at leading underexperienced soldiers. I need you to grab a horse and ride to Outpost Delta-7; the Magic Council can’t spare any soldiers to provide backup, so you’ll have to do for now.”

Jeremy was about to reply when the major held up a hand to silence him, “Look, I know this sounds implausible, but loads of our troops just marched out into the Saveran wastes to deal with a massive influx of giant scorpions, and all of our captains are on various missions in western Magius. I’ll fill out a troop request as soon as you leave; hopefully the high council can spare some soldiers, but until then, you’re basically the only fighter we can spare, and you don’t need me to tell you that our troops in the Bronze Grasslands are hopelessly outnumbered.”

Jeremy grimaced, “How are we spread that thin? Aren’t there contingencies for this?”

“Well, boy, we usually aren’t facing multiple crises at once, and we also don’t usually have a bunch of rabid beasts knocking at our doorstep.” The major answered, “Now go, the more time you waste, the less time we have before this minor issue becomes a disaster.”

“Understood.” Jeremy said with a hint of unease, “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Yes, actually.” The major replied, “If Commander Owen starts heckling non-magic users again, you need to slap him around a bit for me. I’ve told that illiterate bastard to keep his trap shut one too many times.”

Jeremy blinked in shock, “Wouldn’t that be… inappropriate?”

“Just do it, kid.” The major grumbled, “Now get outta here!”

Jeremy didn’t wait to be told twice; he swiftly exited the room and began making his way towards the stables. He never thought that he’d visit the Eastern Peninsula after what happened last time he was stationed there, but it seems that fate had other plans for him.

Grimacing at the memory if the incident, Jeremy climbed aboard the first horse he saw in the stable, and rode off into the scorching desert. Regardless of his haunted past, he would do the councils bidding to the best of his ability. Besides, the Bronze Grasslands weren’t anywhere near the site of the incident.

Sighing, the commissioner steeled himself for a long journey across the Saveran Wastes. With any luck, he’d be able to clear the desert before the hottest part of the day.

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This story went through 7 rewrites over multiple months of planning. I’m not satisfied with the final product, but hopefully the next few chapters will be better now that I’ve set everything up.