Fred Flintrock POV

  Mayor Flintrock slumps back in his chair, relaxing from another long day of work as he watches the sun set on the tall adventurer’s guild through the window at the back of his office. His butler slips into the room without a noise. Despite the high agility and sneak skill of the butler, the mayor knows exactly where he is. In fact, he knows where everyone touching the ground within a hundred feet is.

  “Did you deliver the letter?” The mayor asks without turning around.

  It’s a clear sign of the deterioration of House Heartbran that they couldn’t keep their own heir protected, not to mention that their enemies were to take advantage of the heir’s vulnerability. The mayor doesn’t care about the houses, only the gold that he’s given to provide a service.

  “Yes, I have relayed your order to… it.” The mayor smiles at the butler’s disgust. Mayor Flintrock got his position by building the town up with his own magic. Only a few of his most trusted servants know what the town is built on top of; what remained after the elven town was wiped off the map.

  He still remembers arriving at the burning elven farms as a young mage and seeing the dilapidated manors. It took his Earth magic, a small fortune, and the will of a great house to build the town up to what it is today.

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  “Good, so everything is prepared?” He cocks his head, waiting for any issue that would rob him of his night’s sleep.

  “No. The null chooses over sixty gold’s worth of training stones.”

  The mayor waves it off. “It will be cheaper in the end. If we had given him gold, he would have spent it on who knows what. The training stones can be recovered and sold once they’re dead.”

  “Are you sure? Getting the training stones back from their remains might be… difficult?” The butler asks.

  The mayor settles down in his chair, closing his eyes, “He may delude himself that he’s killing because he wants to, but he does so at my command. He knows that he only lives because I allow it.”

  When the butler doesn’t leave, the mayor opens an eye and asks, “What?”

  “House Frostmore has asked for an update. What should I tell them?”

  “That they push too hard and won’t receive any word until it’s done. No, no… don’t say that. The houses are testy. Tell them that everything is proceeding to plan, and the Heartbran heir will be dead soon.”

  “They worry that if the girl stalls too long, the house guard will find her.”

  “House Heartbran is on its last leg. They pretend their heir is safe at home. If they sent out troops, it would be a sign of weakness they can’t afford. They know this, I know this, and House Frostmore knows this. They only push because their own plans are so flimsy. Despite how cobbled together this trap is, she’s trapped, and nothing will save her.” The mayor explains.