===

  Jevrick’s Quest: Become Mayor of Maplebrook

  Side Quests: Revive Von Jakoby and Dumb Paladin

  Maplebrook’s Population: ???

  ===

  I opened the door, sucking in a nervous breath—which, nervousness as a whole was all too electrifying for me, could barely focus and my vision narrowed.

  The townsfolk gathered before me, with their pitch forks, and torches, and whatever other manner of equipment they hoped to skewer me with.

  Before any of them could make a foolish attempt at said skewering, I raised my hands and declared, “Fair townsfolk of Maplebrook!”

  Well, their response was less than what I had hoped for, as several pitch forks and other objects were flung at me. I thought to step out of the way, but since I had done just that earlier in the day and it resulted in Clyde’s death, I decided against it. I could have also used my dark flame to burn all the projectiles away before they reached me, but I thought that might only provoke the mob further. I resolved to let the miscellaneous farming equipment hit me. Seeing as the mob was a good few yards away, I was positive my protective charm wouldn’t harm them.

  The first object to strike my body was a rusted pitchfork. It simply snapped in half a mere meter from my face. Next was an assortment of knives, pots, and even a vase—all of which shattered and ricocheted off of my barrier.

  The mob shuttered and gasped, and made all sorts of noise you’d expect a crowd of mortal peasants to make when failing to kill a being of great power.

  You see, none of them possessed magic, enchanted weapons, or were beings of fantastical power. As long as none of those things were flung at me, my barrier would hold until I entered a full sleep.

  Anyway - now that I had their attention, and before they could rally another attempt at vanquishing me, I shouted, “Well. I understand the frustrations you are exhibiting. This day has not gone in any way as I’d anticipated, but all we can do is move forward.”

  “How dare you!” A ragged voice came from the center of the crowd.

  I saw the man plainly, a broad-shouldered fellow with quite the beard, and a smock that ran down his stout body with tools in pockets all along it.

  He stepped out past Clyde’s statue, a hammer shaking in his fist. “You killed those honorable paladins and the mayor, and you tell us to move on?” He hocked a thick brown glob of spittle on the stone and the mob behind him cheered.

  I stood utterly bewildered. This was something I had never encountered. In my experience, townsfolk tended to run away at the sign of deadly power, though rarely very far. If any ever fought back, a flare of magic often routed them. But here. . . The girl, and now these folk frequently stood their ground. I looked up to Clyde’s statue, a monument to that splendid individual. Now it made sense how he’d triumphed over Commander Dread. His heart and the heart of his people were steel. They would not be dismayed by me, even if I could roast them all—well, I was sure that there was a threshold for roasting that they’d reach, but I had no intention of finding out. No. People with such fervor, such a will to live, they deserved the world. I just had to get them to play along.

  I took off my new top hat and bowed my head. “My utmost condolences for your recent losses. They were in no way intended to be casualties as they so regrettably became. I cannot undo all of what had happened - but I hope that you will accept what I have done as a token of peace.” I stepped away from the door and presented their gift.

  Atan stepped out, his armor shining brilliantly in the sunset, and his steps stiff.

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  The crowd gasped.

  Fantastic! I thought. They are happy to see him alive!

  “It’s a trick!” Someone shouted.

  Oh. . .

  Atan dismissed the claim with a wave of his hand. “I. . . Uh. . . Am not an illusion. I was brought back by this mage. We had attacked him first, and in the fighting, it was our mistake that led to the death of Mayor Clyde."

  There was a great murmur throughout the crowd.

  Atan traded me an uneasy glance. Well, this was certainly an improvement over having random crap thrown at me.

  “Abomination!” came a shout.

  For the love of the afterlives.

  A surge of jeering and swears swept across the mob as they encroached.

  I turned to the paladin. “Fascinating how bold your people are.”

  He shrugged. “They’ve been through a lot—watch out!”

  Atan jumped in front of me. I almost laughed, thinking he had attempted to shield me from another pitchfork or hoe—but I restrained myself when I realized that this time the projectile was a great hammer speeding straight for us, radiant with holy energy. He thrust up his arms and shouted in some celestial tongue. The hammer plummeted to the ground and rolled to his feet. He did not hesitate to pick it up, the weighty thing complimentary to his powerful muscles and glimmering armor—which repulsed me, mind you.

  I could not see any assailants, but then I noticed a rope tethered to the end of the hammer and traced its path up the town hall’s wall. On the roof loomed a couple of gawk-eyed fools, one of which was that guard I had greeted on my way in. They’d tried to swing that paladin’s hammer into me. Creative. Tenacious. I needed to win these people over.

  “Roland!” Atan shouted up at the men on the roof.

  The guard steadied himself. “Atan, is that truly you? Not as dead as people claimed.”

  Atan shrugged. “Come down here and check before you get someone else killed.”

  “Hmph. I’m sure that wizard would like that.” The old guard snorted.

  This was going nowhere. If showing them a resurrected paladin wasn’t enough to get them to calm down, then I needed another avenue. What other ailments could I alleviate for them? I thought about the job board I had run into. What a list of problems: kobolds, bandits, dying crops. So many issues that needed tending to.

  I jaunted toward the statue in the center of town, my new coat tails rippling in the air, and my new shoes light upon my feet.

  The mob pulled back, readying their weapons.

  I leapt on top of the pedestal next to Clyde’s statue and sang out, “Fair folk of Maplebrook! Hear my plea! I too am distraught. Mayor Clyde was a hero among such valiant folk, a true wonder of a man, and his departure from this plane is a tragedy. I feel for you, your strife to come, dying crops, and encroaching enemies. You seek the security of a leader, the hope of an individual to guide you forward. Well, I am he! Rest your worries, I will carry them away. Lo, I am Jevrick La Kel, and I will fill the recent void that has filled your hearts. I shall be your mayor!”

  It was quite verbose, but how would you as a nigh-immortal necromancer address an angry mob in order to win them over without killing any of them? Better ideas are welcomed in the void below, if you understand my meaning.

  The crowd stood silent. I honestly thought it might have worked. But then I thought they might start screaming and swearing at me. But no, enough time passed that that fear dissipated. They just stared at me, and at each other, utterly dumbfounded.

  That was until one voice spoke up. That old guardsman, his voice somehow carrying across the courtyard from his perch on the town hall’s roof.

  “You’ll deal with the kobolds and bandits?” he asked.

  I swiveled back. A bite? “Certainly! Name it done.”

  Ronald crossed his arms. “And you trust him to carry out his promise, paladin?”

  Atan said, “I thought you didn’t trust me now?”

  “I don’t.” Ronald sighed. “But, if you deal with the Kobolds and local bandits. . .you have my vote.”

  Vote… My mind filled with memories of posters, mocking fingers, the crushed spirit of a young man. A man who wanted to be accepted. A man who turned to knowledge in order to fill the space where love was missing. A man who greedily craved power in place of answers. A man who took on the mentorship of a warlord. A man who was freed only a short time ago. A man who wanted nothing more than to be chosen.

  I smiled. “A vote for me,” I declared, “is a vote for Maplebrook!”

  Ronald huffed. “Whatever you say, mayor-elect.”

  With that, the next step was clear. Save Maplebrook from its pests, and win an election for mayor. It’d only taken a lifetime or two to get there!

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

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