Jevrick’s Main Quest: Become Mayor of Maplebrook
Side Quest:
- Kick these dirty paladins out of town.
- Return scythe to Marvin the Merchant.
- Deal with the Greenfolk and kobolds.
- Find and kill Green Thumb.
- Discover the secret of the strange green powder.
Undead Servants: 0
Maplebrook’s Population: 1003?
Inventory:
- Gold: 0
- Items: Robe, Flint and Tinder, Vials, Glass Mirror, Sack of Diamond Fragments.
- Magic Items: Scythe, Soul Gem, Protection Charm, Spellbook, Gold Triangle Binding Cap
- Base materials: Vials of Blood, Pouches of Bonemeal, *Various Aether-Infused Plants, Sack of Soil.
- Special Items: Vial of green dust and blood
- Main Components:
- Assorted Kobold Components
- Cat Eyes
- Flattened Tin Top
- Jar of Fireflies
- Miscellaneous Faces
- Miscellaneous Hearts
- Moonlit Chains
- Obsidian Glass
- Polished Iron Ingot
- Spider Silk
- Sprite Dust
- Various Slivers of Metal
- *King’s Blood
- *Toadstool
- *Morning Glories
Oh yes, and a few other things, including a rather large diamond.
- Large Diamond
===
Spells:
Cantrips:
- True Sight (Blood + Arcane)
- Create Fire (Arcane)
- Siphon Soul (Blood)
- Spectral Hand (Blood + Arcane)
- Decaying Tendrils (Blood)
Prepared:
- Animate Object (Arcane)
- Chains of Erabos (Arcane + Blood)
- Visage (Blood)
- Force Darts (Arcane)
- Levitate Object (Arcane)
- Portal (Arcane)
- Aether Harvest (Arcane)
- Raise Thrall (Blood)
- Sense Mind (Arcane)
- Sleep (Blood)
===
What an unpleasant surprise. No doubt these paladins were here to deal with me. They were too far away for me to gauge their capabilities, and I was not prepared to deal with them; my Dark Flame spell was still within my spellbook. One spell took a few minutes to prepare, but it took total focus. Multiple spells could take upwards of an hour. I assessed the situation as best I could before I attempted to make any switches. I might be able to sneak the transfer for a single spell, but I doubted these trained vanquishers would do me the kindness of letting me swap out all my spells to ones better suited versus them. That wasn’t to dismiss Atan beside me. Would our contract hold up? Or had he been waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike at me? This would certainly be his chance to harm me, doubly so if I sat down and closed my eyes long enough to transfer a spell.
I considered what spells I was currently attuned to. The wrong spells. I thought of my other options. A portal was risky, as it would linger for a few moments after I passed it or until I dispelled it, giving Atan a chance to chase after me. Unfortunately, the portal wouldn’t shut off if even a single finger of his passed through however, a fault of the spell’s design.
“Know them?” I asked, hoping to give myself more time to think.
The paladin scowled. “I do.” His hands were tight on his weapon. Not a good sign he’d take my side.
I had been able to dispatch the last two paladins so easily due to the use of Dark Flame, because it fed off of their defensive energy. It would be safe to say that this new group would likely possess similar wards. Without Dark Flame or undead thralls, it was unclear how I’d fare. Perhaps I’d kill a couple before they closed the distance on me. If they had enchanted weapons, or could imbue them with magic as Atan did, then my protection charm would do little to protect me against so many attacks. The spells, oh the spells I could have cast if only I had the components and time to prepare them.
“Give yourself over,” Atan said.
That was it then, his loyalty would return to his fellow knights.
I had an option—I had several. But they would each cost something, and few I foresaw ending in my claim of an intact Maplebrook. Perhaps I needn’t care so much for the town. I could venture on, find a place far from paladins, and try again.
But what would Clyde have done? Would he have run away at the first sign of trouble? No. He was a hero. He didn’t wander back home, tail between his legs, and sit back as Dread torched the surrounding country. No! He stood his ground, he overthrew the great warlord, and he freed the likes of me. I was here to save Maplebrook, no matter the cost. It was my charge, my penance for what had happened to such a great warrior as Clyde.
So, options narrowed, I had to choose. Fight Atan and face the rest of the paladins, or surrender and beg their mercy.
Or. . .
“Good ser,” I said to Atan, “you’re right. I have no chance against the six of you, and I have no desire to bring more harm to the good people of Maplebrook. I will turn myself in.”
Kipsic squawked. “You cannot! The Greenfolk!”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
I patted the kobold on his head. “Worry not, little one. I will make sure that the paladins uphold my end of the deal. I am sure that when they hear of how Maplebrook will be spared, they will agree to help. But. . .” I turned to Atan. “I do not know if your friends will seek to destroy me as soon as I am within reach of their weapons.”
Atan ground his teeth. “They may.”
“Then I am at a loss. I have no intention of dying here, as you can understand.”
Atan nodded. “I cannot see who their leader is. If it is an honorable knight, they will treat with you.”
“Are not all knights of your order honorable?”
He did not respond.
“Very well. I don’t suppose you would be liaison for me?” I asked, knowing he most likely wouldn’t give me a clear avenue of escape by leaving my side.
Again, he did not respond. Was he thinking so intently that he had no words? Or had he lost his mind?
“I can go-go,” Kipsic offered.
I shook my head. “My dear friend, your desire to help is appreciated, but I fear they might try to cut you down as well.”
Kipsic hung his head.
Atan sighed. “Look. I have no intent to break our pact. I have yet to fulfill my end of the deal while Green Thumb and the kobolds are still a threat. But I do not know if you will attempt to escape while I leave to meet with them.”
A fare concern. I would have done just that. “Of course I won’t, dear friend.” No, no, I wouldn’t. Abandoning him would mean abandoning Maplebrook. “I won’t leave.” I said, this time with sincerity.
He held my gaze for a stern moment, nodded, then continued down the path toward the other paladins.
I sat on the ground instantly and pulled out my spellbook, but hesitated to open it when I realized that the paladins might recognize what I was doing.
“Kipsic,” I said, “would you mind standing in front of me? The sun is too bright over my pages.”
“Yes-yes, I help!”
His little body stood in front of me, just tall enough to block my book from the sun, and to hide my actions from the paladins. “Dear friend, please update me with what the paladins are up to, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Ok!”
I flipped through the pages in my spellbook and swapped out Animate Object with Dark Flame, and had half a mind to trade Visage for something else. No, I had the full mind of it—the town knew my look, I was not fooling anyone. Visage would be swapped out for a rare spell, something I only had one use of because it required a rare large diamond, of which I only had one of. But, if there was ever a moment for such a spell, this was it. Anima Vivifica, give life to the Soul.
***
This was wrong. Alaesh thought. The townsfolk had told them that two paladins had been slain. But, here was Atan, travelling with the corrupted wizard no less. Alaesh gripped her spear tightly and watched to see what her liege would do. Sergeant Drake was a wise man, but he’d slacked on his conditioning in his later years. Sometimes she felt that it made him unsteady. But she trusted him, and would wait to follow his order, even if this whole thing rotted in her gut.
“Hail,” Paladin Atan said, greathammer hanging low.
Sergeant Drake stood still as he spoke. “Hail. Is that you, Atan Starr? I was told you’d succumbed to a wizard’s spell.”
Atan stopped a few body lengths away from them. “Aye. Tis true. But I was brought back due to the efforts of the same mage. I stand here now to meet with you on his behalf.”
“Blasphemy,” Jaks growled.
“Be quiet,” Sergeant Drake said. He did not raise his voice to stifle Jaks, a simple direct tone is all he needed. “Now,” he said to Atan, “treating on behalf of a dark wizard? Resurrected by his powers? How do I know it’s really you there, not a puppet on strings?”
Alaesh did not sense any form of maleficence emanating from Atan, as she would if he were some possessed thing. But she was still unversed in all the ways of the arcane. If Sergeant Drake bore any hesitation, she accepted that she should be cautious as well.
Atan set his hammer head first in the dirt and pulled out a necklace from under his armor. Two pendants hung from it—one the star-cross of the Dawn Lord, and the other a shard of the great Obelisk.
“May the power of these masters reject me should I have forsaken my oath to them,” Atan declared. He took the objects, one in each hand, and kneeled. From an utterance of prayer, the paladin screamed as a faint glow of energy coursed over his body.
Scribe Eliza gasped. “Fascinating.” She sheathed her blade and shield and grabbed her journal and quill that hung from a chain around her hip, scratching her documentations within.
After a minute or so, Atan’s shoulders drooped, and the pain seemed to have stifled. He stood and gripped his hammer. The weapon ignited with golden fire—a testament to his connection with the Dawn Lord. Next, his armor flared with dark shadows, wreathing him in the power of the Obelisk.
Alaesha had never seen something like it. She’d heard stories of The Twice-Pledged Knight, but never could she fathom the power of his dual oaths until having seen it.
Sergeant Drake scratched his beard. “Very well. It would seem your oaths are still intact. Fine then, what do you have to say?”
“The necromancer is called Jevrick. He seeks to turn himself in. I have seen his honor first hand. Though he is a dark mage, he possesses a will to uphold his word.” Atan pointed back toward the wizard, who was being covered by. . . a lizard-dog thing? Some familiar perhaps?
“I see,” Sergeant Drake said with a long pause.
One of the townsfolk, a guard, stepped out from the defenses and joined them. Ronald he was called. “Fair knights. What is happening? While we wait, that vile daemon prepares to destroy us.”
“He does no such thing,” Atan said.
Ronald sneered. “Traitor. You joined up with him, even after what he did to Von Jakoby and Godrick.”
Atan frowned, but did not address Ronald.
“Von Jakoby?” Sergeant Drake asked.
Atan said, “a local farmer. He was revived also by Jevrick. . . after an accidental death.”
Ronald said, “He breathes, but we can barely feed or give him water. A hex more than a revival.”
“No, no hex. He is an old man.” Atan looked to Sergeant Drake.” Certainly it will take longer for him to recover, and his ritual was conducted after a far longer time had passed, where I had only been dead for an hour.”
Sergeant Drake sighed. “This sounds bad, Atan. Only a few sorts have the capability to perform a resurrection in this manner. Those with the power of a celestial, and those who are corrupted by dark arts. We deal with the latter. A necromancer, Atan. Think who you represent. It was not so long ago that we fought a war against their kind. This cannot continue. You say he will surrender? Very well. He must also submit to execution. That is the way of the law. Infernos, you know I hate talking like this. Let us get it over already, brother.”
Atan set his jaw, eyes searching the earth as if his answers lay there. He looked up again. “If I may make one more appeal.”
“Geeze, he’s persistent,” Fetters muttered. He gulped down his interjections with a glance from Sergeant Drake.
Their leader nodded.
“We have struck a deal with the kobolds,” Atan said—gaining the visible ire of Ronald and the other paladins. “If we slay Green Thumb, who is a local brigand, and disband his followers—the kobolds have agreed to cease their raiding of nearby farms. Jevrick’s only request for his surrender is to uphold this charge.”
What a peculiar sort of man this Jevrick was. A necromancer so bent on helping a humble town like Maplebrook? It certainly didn't match with Alaesh’s understanding of such dark masters. She couldn’t help but voice her thoughts. “Paladin Sergeant Drake, if I may.”
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, then nodded.
“Perhaps Atan is telling the truth, and this wizard is actually an ally of Maplebrook, and the things that have happened here have truly been a gross series of incidents?”
“Are you serious?” Ronald said. “That wizard is delusional. He’s declared himself running for mayor, you know? What sort of being shows up, murders folk, then decides to run for mayor?”
Sergeant Drake said, “I take you’ve seldom met politicians.” He rubbed his brow. “Atan—”
The bell clanged. Everyone drew their weapons.
“What trick—?”
The watcher in the tower shouted, “Men from the southern forest! Men and. . . Trees? Trees! The trees are attacking!”
Alaesh spun to see the southside. Indeed, the trees were attacking. A horde of bandits and animated plants charging out of the tree line, led by a bearded oak with a man's face sticking out from it.
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!