===

  Name: Knight Clyde “Junior” II, “Bane of Dread,” of the Old Guard

  Anima Level: 0

  Age: 46

  Lineage: Human

  Class: Knight

  Status: Healthy

  Conditions: Soul-Muted, Drunken

  Stats:

  Might: 10

  Agility: 10

  Intellect: 10

  Wit: 10

  ===

  I could not fathom the man before me. We had moved to my office, which was now officially my office, and not just the place I liked to call my office.

  Clyde sat across from my desk, eyes drooping like he might fall asleep at any moment. In fact, he had fallen asleep once already. Directly after he stood in front of the whole town and declared his identity, he just fell right in front of Clyde’s statue—er, his statue. . .

  How was this man the Clyde? How was it that this man was the one who had struck the final blow against Dread? How was it that this was the man I truly owed my life to?

  An anima of zero? A combination of traits more benign that any man I had ever witnessed of his age. I had never known a knight to be so incredibly average. But I reserved one form of hope: there had to be a deception at play here. That Soul-Muted condition leant itself to all sorts of theories. Could it be that he merely appeared to be so inadequate due to his condition? Was it a curse? Was this what drove him to heavy drink and to smell of rancid booze? Or, was the heavy alcohol somehow the contributing factor to his insultingly low characteristics?

  Something very much did not add, and I was determined to sort through the truth. But I also had to accept the possible conclusion that Clyde was not a special individual. That he indeed was insignificant in his characteristics, and that there was some combination of divine circumstances that led to him somehow striking down Dread. Or. . . perhaps he did not defeat Dread, and the deception at play here was not one of subverting the truth, but desecrating it entirely.

  I had to know.

  Clyde finally spoke. “You know how odd it is for me to be talking with a skeleton, right?”

  I shrugged. “Well, technically I’m a little more than just a skeleton, but very well.”

  “Is. . . that an urn with my father’s ashes?” Clyde II stared at the jar sitting on the edge of my desk, which had the word, Clyde, written on it.

  I chattered my teeth. “Yes.”

  He rubbed his temples. “To clarify: a paladin killed him, and then you killed the paladin, and then you scooped up my father’s ashes and placed in a jar that you carved his name in, then proceeded to wear his clothes and work in his office?”

  I could hardly see the problem, it was merely a factor of circumstance. Well. . . perhaps I could see some problems with the line of actions from his perspective. “To be fair, these aren’t exactly his clothes—I used some magic so they could fit me a little better.”

  “That doesn’t. . .” Clyde shook his head and burped. “Ugh. So, I had come here to get my revenge, but seeing as you already did that for me I suppose I better be heading back.”

  “Back where?”

  He flicked a thumb backward. “Stone Summit.” Stone Summit would have actually been to his left, but I didn’t argue that point.

  “I see,” I said. “Well, before you do. I must know, how did you defeat Commander Dread? You were the only survivor of your party, and none of his servants that had been there could withstand your assault on his throne room.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Clyde shrugged. “I stabbed him.”

  I had no words. Was this man fooling with me?

  “Alright, Ser Clyde, I suppose I cannot hold you here if you wish to return to Stone Summit.” I deflated. So much passion, so much admiration, and so much mourning for a man who was not dead—a man who was not the man I thought he was—a man who, once met with, took away more of me than it gave. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. What was the trick? I would figure it out.

  He gave a curt nod, stood unsteadily, and shuffled toward the exit. The man with a grey anima.

  He is not what he says he is.

  ===

  Jevrick’s Main Quest: Restore Maplebrook

  

  
• Earn Maplebrook’s trust.


  
• Rebuild houses.


  
• Restore population.


  
• Win the election.


  

  Side Quests:

  

  
• Is that really Clyde?


  

  

  
• Find out who burned down the chapel.


  
• Fulfill obligation to Atan.


  

  ***

  “Ten stews, five fishes!” Bano called out.

  “Yes, Master Bano!” Hughie shouted back, already plating a sizzling fish.

  Kipsic waved his invisible hand over the fresh fillet, sprinkling the last touch of seasoning it needed before being served.

  Hughie winked. “Bless.” He swung the plate over and scooped up another three to slide out for Bano to grab.

  While he did that, Kipsic hopped over to the stew and gave it a sip with a wooden spoon. The hot broth warmed the kobold from head to toe. He knocked the spoon on the boiling pot twice, signaling to Hughie it was ready.

  The cook scooped up five bowls and splashed the stew into it, with succulent meat and glistening vegetables.

  “Three servings of bacon and sausage!” Bano called out.

  Kipsic went to a cutting board to slice up the meat, grabbed a cutting knife and waited for Hughie.

  The cook hobbled over behind him and pretended to grip the knife, but Kipsic was the one who made the fine slices of bacon from a thick bit of pork belly, Hughie’s hand making mock slicing motions in sync with Kipsic’s actual ones. Once the bacon was sliced, Hughie whisked the meat to a pan and began frying the meat.

  The shift was going quite well!

  Then there was a knock on the backdoor.

  Kispic froze. Who that?

  Hughie twisted his head. “I think it's one of your cousins or something.”

  Kispic hobbled over to a window, still invisible. Indeed another kobold was outside, but it was not just a random servant—it was King Nak-Kan.

  “Be back!” Kipsic said, rushing for the door.

  “Oh, ok! Hurry back!” Hughie said, settling in to finish the bacon.

  King Nak-Kan gave a wide grin as Kipsic dropped his invisibility and stepped out of the kitchen into the back alley and closed the door. There were two large kobold guards that stood behind the King as well.

  “King Nak-Kan,” Kipsic bowed low.

  The King pat Kipsic’s head. “My favorite scout, you have done good-good.”

  Kipsic felt flustered. “Good-good? Yes?”

  The King nodded, his chins swaying as he did. “Yes-yes. You brought us the boney-man, and made friends with the humans. For this, I give you a new job-job.”

  “Oh! Yes, ok. Whatever King Nak-Kan say.”

  King Nak-Kan placed a thick paw on Kipsic’s shoulder. “You will be my Chief Spy.”

  Kipsic’s eyes widened. He dropped to his hands and knees and bowed to the King. “Yes-yes, thank you!”

  “Hah! You are strong, young Kipsic. You are ready!”

  “What do I do-do next?”

  Nak-Kan said, “Stand, I tell you.”

  Kipsic did as he was told, waiting excitedly for his King’s orders.

  The greatest of kobolds looked around as if what he was about to say was of the utmost secrecy, and leaned in close—Kipsic leaned in closer. “Clan Nak-Kan will go home to mine for the humans. You will stay-stay and watch. Anything they do, you will tell-tell me. I send scouts to you each week. You say what you see to them.”

  Kipsic pondered this new task. “Spy on the humans?” he asked.

  King Nak-Kan raised an eyebrow. “You refuse?”

  “No-no! I be good spy, I see and say all things.” Kipsic nodded quickly.

  “Good,” the King smiled. “Good, well done Chief Spy.” With that, the blessed kobold turned and left with his guards.

  Kipsic muttered to himself after Nak-Kan left, “Chief Spy?”

  ***

  I watched from the window as Ser Clyde II stumbled toward his horse near the Sleeping Dragon. I could not comprehend what had happened, and I could not sort through what I should do. Should I abduct him, tie him up, force him to tell me everything? Should I kill him for being a deceiver? Should I let him go? What was wrong with me? How could I be so conflicted between evil and good? Was this why it is advised for one to never meet those they look up to? Was it nothing but disappointment that hid behind the truth? Would that I could close my eyes so I need not witness this reality.

  Cling, cling, cling!

  I pulled out my Message Mirror to see what Timmins was going on about.

  My thrall had his mirror facing the far street, where a rider galloped toward the town center. I could recognize them not from the distance, but my mind told me that something was very wrong.

  I summoned a portal and teleported myself in front of their path.

  The horse skidded to a stop and whinnied.

  I stood my ground. “Who are you?”

  The rider slumped over his saddle and dropped to the ground, bloodied and bruised, wearing little more than rags. His breathing was heavy.

  I bent down to him. “Atan! What has happened?”

  The paladin dropped a swollen eye to face mine. “They. . . are coming.”