===

  Jevrick’s Quest: Find Clyde

  Side Quest: Revive Von Jakoby

  Maplebrook’s Population: 999

  ===

  Watcher Ronald had seen many people enter Maplebrook in his days - in fact, that was part of his job. He’d been the Keeper of the Road for the last fifteen years. No one kept roads quite as road-like as he. Or so he liked to jest. In truth, the job was rather boring standing there. His knees had already given up on him, and he was certain his vision was going next. He did his best to stand dutifully at the half-wall’s mouth, but today—a warm one like it was—he elected to sit. He knew it did not come off as stout and powerful as a road watcher should, but staring out at dirt and trees for thousands of hours of his life hadn’t proven to be all that exciting to begin with.

  Well, there were the occasional times where he thought, “Oh, holy momma, I’m going to die!” But he never did. No matter what bandits, or kobolds, or weird jelly monsters came out at him. It wasn’t a frequent thing either way, maybe once every new moon. And he was quick to make sure the rest of the town guard and militia knew about it.

  Though, nothing had happened for that moon, yet. Perhaps something was bound to come out of those trees any day now? In which case, he should be on guard to make sure the real soldiers have time to react. He peered out as best he could, but it was getting harder each day to tell the difference between treetops. All just one big green haze at this distance. He sighed. Maybe it was time to put down his spear and take a job as street watcher—which had a lot more walking involved, but was more close quarters for his eyes. Worse for his knees. Well, he supposed—

  “What in. . .” He chirped up, squinting his eyes at something coming down over the hills. A figure. A man? It was hard to tell, they looked like a walking eggplant at this distance. Oh, perhaps a robe wearing sort, they tended to look like long vegetables at this distance, all covered up with cloth and silk. A robed man? Well, someone of wealth perhaps? No, they were walking, no horse in sight. That was odd for a noble. Could be a cleric or priest of some sort, or a wizard mayhaps.

  Ronald cleared his throat and stood with serious attention. His knees crackled with the movement, but he put up with it. Wizards or clerics were a serious sort, and had to take them as such.

  Then again. . . perhaps it was a hermit or some wandering crazy. They wore robes sometimes too, didn’t they? He pondered it—and as he did—the figure made its way closer and closer, strolling down the twisting road until it was about a yard away.

  “Halt!” Ronald said, shaking off the blur, and finally making out some features. Indeed not an eggplant - but a purple robed man. His face was pale, greyish, but he had the features of a human male alright.

  The man stopped as asked, and bowed. Definitely not a nobleman to offer such a gesture to Ronald.

  The watcher scowled. “What’s your business in Maplebrook, stranger?”

  The man righted himself and talked with his hands as he spoke, a common trait of swindlers and mages—which one, Ronald hoped to deduce.

  “Greeting, fair guardsman,” the man said with a low and rich voice, which was quite contradictory to his younger features, “I am Jevrick of… well, Jevrick would suffice I’m sure. I am in search of a few items I need for a project I’m working on, and I have heard Maplebrook is a splendid place to entertain. I promise I won’t be but for an evening, should I find all I require, and will be off on my way.”

  Ah, there it was. A wizard indeed, project and materials said it all. Ronald chewed his lip, trying to ignore the soreness below his knee caps. “Well,” he huffed, “I suppose that is quite fine. Sign into the registry on the left there and be on your way. If you plan on staying for longer than a night, you’ll need to be sure to let the mayor’s office know.”

  “Hmm,” Jevrick mused, “quite the detailed security routine for a town such as this.”

  Ronald nodded. “We have a lot of trade coming in and out, but the mayor likes to keep things organized. I assume that won’t be a problem?”

  “None at all,” Jevrick said with a wave of his hand. He approached the logbook that was mounted on a stand on the opposite side of Ronald, wrote on its pages with a quill and ink pot stored there, and then reached into his robe.

  Ronald tightened his grip on his spear. Something gold flickered in Jevrick’s palm. Gold?

  “Here you are, for such admirable service,” Jevrick said, upturning his hand and reaching out.

  Part of Ronald wanted to deny the offer, but gold was hard to pass up. He wouldn’t take it for himself of course, it’d go straight to the town, but he could hardly pass up the chance to do so. He could think of a few places that might benefit from a little donation, like the orphanage, or the local chapel perhaps. He nodded and reached out for the offer. “Thank you-”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The man’s hands were chilled, as cold as frosted snow. Jevrick nodded. “Pleasure is mine!” He released the gold into Ronald’s shaking hands, and sauntered on into the town.

  Ronald stood there with the coins in hand, which were somehow warmer than the icy touch he’d just felt. On such a hot day, no less.

  “Well,” he muttered to himself, “wizards, I suppose.”

  And he went back to leaning on the wall and daydreaming.

  ***

  What a wonderful town it was. The roads were well groomed, and shifted from dirt to brick. The houses were short things, with tiled roofing, and I could smell both livestock and the comforting breeze of fresh water from over yonder. People bustled about with their small carts, and brooms, and cages of small animals. It was something truly nice to see up close. I tried to recall the last time I’d been in a town like this where people were going about their daily lives rather than running for them. How I’d missed out on so much simplicity!

  As I walked down the road looking for a shop that would have the items I sought for the resurrection, I couldn’t help but note people’s eyes turning toward me as I passed. I took a moment to pull out my mirror to make sure my features were still in-tact, and indeed they were. Perhaps it was the robes then. I appeared to be widely out of fashion compared to the folks here, who dressed in drab cloth, with perhaps the occasional spout of color. That had to be the least interesting thing to me about the place, which was saying a lot because I found it quite adorable. Just not enough color. Well, I wasn’t there to ponder over the dress choices of the common man. I had a goal, and so I set out to finish it.

  I strolled through an open courtyard where three things grabbed my attention. First was a fountain at the center, a circular stone edifice, with a statue mounted on top of it—which was the second thing. The statue was of a brave looking knight with a mustache and rapier. I approached and found a plaque that said, Clyde Funion - Vanquisher of the Devil Dread.

  Well. . . That was the third thing that grabbed my attention. Vanquisher of Dread? I surmised it meant Commander Dread, as that was the only being with that name that I knew warranted celebration for being vanquished. I felt an exhilaration in my chest. I had come to the right place indeed. I dreamt about the moment I’d get to meet with him. I had quite a lot to chat with Clyde about—particularly the angle of off-ing my ex-employer. I’d been wandering aimlessly for the last several months trying to track down the one who’d accomplished such an impressive task. Who had managed to slay the dreaded Dread? Where had they come from? Where had they gone? All three questions had been answered and wrapped up for me upon the lips of a pack of bandits who thought I would be easy pickings, “Maplebrook.” I thanked them before drawing that conversation to a permanent close.

  It was settled! I would finish up that silly business with the girl and old man, and then I’d look for Clyde.

  I searched the shop signs around me for some semblance of an apothecary. Then I stumbled upon a fourth thing that caught my distracted attention yet again. A billboard with all sorts of posters upon it. Ever a creature of curiosity, I jaunted over it to see what was going on in town.

  Wanted: Green Bandits

  Help: Lost Ring

  Mayor Election - Candidates - Mayor Clyde Funion

  “Fantastic!” Two things had journeyed into my macabre cranium. First was of course, yes, Clyde would be quite easy to find—being the current mayor up for re-election. Second, the mere prospect of election. What a fantastic design of mortals to chip in their votes and voices in the selection process of a valid leader.

  Though, terrible memories followed after. Memories I’d thought long forgotten.

  “If I ever get a second chance,” a far younger me had declared, “then I’ll run for mayor a second time. I don’t care what it takes!”

  Oh, oh how naive I had been. I shook off the memories, re-embraced the sun, and continued on to a small shop by the name of The Root and Vial.

  Inside was a nice little place and I got the things I needed. It was all there, which was quite splendid, surprisingly even the phoenix tail I needed. The elegant gradient of orange, to red, to purple shimmered along its foot of length. It took the last of my gold, but I had a promise to uphold. This town did have a port and took in a lot of trade, so said Ronald—who never said his name, but I simply inspected to see it. Well, there were still plenty of hours left. I supposed little Nora might be thirsty under the warm weather, so I thought I’d swing by the local tavern and bring her something back. People did appreciate gifts, and I supposed I owed her for how well she’d taken the whole dead uncle thing.

  Once I had made it to the tavern, I was once again entertained. What a splendid place - with tiered floors for lodgings, and a counter that stretched long across the back, barrels of rare drink hidden within, and dozens of tables and patrons laughing and enjoying each other’s bodily warmth. I must admit, I was so taken in by it that I didn’t notice a man behind me was talking until the second time he said—

  “Sir? Do you mind?”

  I snapped out of my ruminations. “Oh, my apologies—” I turned. I did not fancy who I was staring at.

  A paladin. Dressed in his overly righteous plate armor, flowing brown hair, chiseled jaw, and holy way of smelling up the place. Paladins—many a sort—had tried to kill-kill me from time to time over the decades. This one had all the seriousness and aura of any I’ve seen. He did have a curious symbol on his shoulder. It was a purple engraving of some stone or pillar or something. Rock worshipping paladins would be a new take on the bland type, I could give him that. Well, I couldn’t be rude, could I? I was a guest, and this man was certainly not hunting me. Yet. I let the ire drain from me and gave a nod.

  “Apologies, ser. I will be on my way.” So, I set out to leave the tavern rather than get a drink for Nora. The icky part was that I could feel the paladin’s eyes still on me. . . I had been so off-put by him, however, I had forgotten to check his status. Something was indeed off with me lately. I was making mistakes I rarely made. I supposed it was all part of settling into my new life. A life of a person freed from the shackles of the past.

  A vote for the necromancer is a vote for the future!

  Follow, favorite, or subscribe to Patreon to make sure our Necromancer becomes the next Necro-Mayor!

  - Jonco

  P.S. Patreon will have twice the words on day one, and stay at least 5 chapters ahead of RR!

  Invest in the campaign!