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19: Big Business

  Ronald watched the necromancer warily as the creature paced the room with that false face of his.

  Then there was the paladin, the traitor stood behind the necromancer like a lapdog. Bloody shameful.

  “We got off on the wrong foot,” Jevrick said.

  Ronald clenched his jaw. He hated how nonchalant Jevrick could be, and he hated more that this wonderful town had been cursed to deal with this entity—all on his watch, nonetheless. He had agreed to meet with the necromancer merely because he had not gathered enough men or weapons to fight him. Based on the display he’d seen Jevrick execute during the battle with the Greenfolk, he knew their chances of defeating this man were slim. Still, he had to find a way to win back the town from this monster’s clutches—if only to honor Clyde for his sacrifice.

  Jevrick sat down at Clyde’s desk and waved a hand at a chair across from it.

  Ronald grunted and took the chair. If he didn’t return to his men within the next hour, they were instructed to burn down the townhall with him in it. He’d die, but he’d hoped to distract the wizard long enough that he might not notice and become trapped. It was a longshot, but someone had to take this matter into their own hands. If anything, they could pin the tragedy on Jevrick, and potentially build fervor within the townsfolk.

  “So.” Jevrick steepled his hands on the desk, Clyde’s coat somewhat loose on his forearms. It was stitched in places where that one paladin had struck him with a trident, before this necromancer seemingly killed him without uttering a word. “I understand you’ve been serving this town for the better part of your life, is that right?”

  “Thirty years,” Ronald affirmed. What was this guy getting at?

  Jevrick whistled. “Quite the dedication. That’s very admirable, you know? I am sure the people trust you with their lives.”

  Ronald shrugged. “Where are you going with this?”

  The necromancer pulled a large piece of parchment out from a drawer and flattened it on the desk. It was a map of the Terragard region.

  Jevrick sat back in the chair. “Tell me, what do you think is the greatest threat to Maplebrook on this map?”

  “No need, he’s sitting right in front of me.”

  The necromancer grinned. “What else?”

  Ronald had to make a decision to continue playing along, call things off, or kick it into action. He was leaning into skipping this game and getting right into the plan of burning the necromancer to ash. But. . . he felt a tension in his chest. Fear? Was he afraid to go through with the plan? He took a deep breath and looked at the map.

  To the west was the great lake, and beyond that was Knightshelm. Hardly a threat to his town, given they offered protection to them. Though, it was mighty infuriating and confusing how they could abandon the town to Jevrick. Ronald hoped that meant they were merely regrouping and would return with a force they knew for certain would vanquish the creature for good.

  Still looking at the map, to the North was Stone Summit, the dwarven mountain fortress. Not an outstanding threat, though the dwarves had never been friends either. Old grudges and all.

  To the South were the old marshes where a great battle had been fought not too long ago against the legions of Dread, where Clyde had sallied forth with a party of adventures to face off against the tyrant. Now that the Greenfolk were dead, nothing much lay in that direction but wastes and the ghosts of fallen soldiers; so rumors said.

  To the East was the long road to Avalon and New Aplista, and the places beyond—which Maplebrook hardly dealt with except the occasional trade.

  There was one place on this map that posed an active threat—the network of vermin that lived in the mountains Northwest of Maplebrook.

  Ronald pressed his finger in that area of the map. “The kobolds. Filthy creatures raid our pastures and make-off with cattle, sheep, and whatever gold and weapons they can get their claws on.”

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  Jevrick nodded long and hard. “Well. What if I told you they were no longer a threat?”

  “I’d call you a liar.” Ronald chewed on his inner cheek. He hadn’t seen the kobolds for a few days, but that didn’t mean much. They could have gotten bored or were bullying Avalon for all he knew.

  The necromancer laughed. “Well, I know trusting me is hardly your first instinct. That is fine, I will accept that mistrust. But if neither kobolds or I were the objects of your ire, then what else would you point to as a threat to this good town?”

  Ronald thought hard about it. There was one thing he thought of.

  ***

  “The Merchant Guild,” the guard answered.

  What a fascinating hierarchy of enemies, I mused. Me, kobolds, and businessmen. He skipped right past the wolves, which is what I truly had expected him to say. In fact, I had counted on it, I could have used his determination in dealing with that problem. But this new revelation changed things.

  “Hmm,” I chirped, “not what I expected you to say. What have they done to earn third place on your hate list?”

  Ronald looked out the window; again, for the third time since sitting down. His right leg hadn’t stopped bouncing either. He was nervous about something, maybe waiting, but for what I hadn’t ascertained.

  I stood and walked to the window while awaiting a response.

  “Well,” he finally squawked.

  Ah, he doesn’t want me to look outside. . .

  “Yes?” I said innocently.

  The guard squirmed in his chair. “One merchant in particular. Vrak Kellings. Man is a vulture, overcharges on farming equipment, then sends his thugs to steal them back.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “How has he been allowed to do that?”

  Ronald shook his head. “Paladin’s knew, but he kept them supplied with something that kept them from doing anything about it.” The guard scowled at Atan behind me.

  I looked back at my companion, intrigued. “Is that so?”

  Atan huffed. “The matter is more complicated than that. The guard speaks to his understanding.”

  Ronald shot up from his chair. “Bloody traitor. You were supposed to protect us from fiends like this man here, but I shoulda knew you were a selfish dastard.” He was practically foaming at the mouth.

  Atan didn’t respond to the accusation and just kept looking straight ahead.

  I tilted my head in respect. “I hadn’t realized there was such animosity beneath the surface here. Please, sit Ronald, we’ll sort this out. I am here to serve Maplebrook. Clyde was my friend, and I mean to continue his legacy.”

  The guard shot me a disdainful gaze. “You? Bah. You’re fancy with your words and think us folks to be simple minded, but I know your kind. We fought a war against the undead and necromancers alike, and Clyde was a part of that effort. Don’t you dare tarnish his name by calling yourself his friend.”

  I wasn’t getting anywhere with this line of conversation. I needed to think of a way to get him back on track. I turned to the window to think. . . and that’s when I saw the men with torches skulking about.

  Ah, so he hopes to burn down the place with us inside? I was somewhat impressed to see he’d be willing to sacrifice himself for such a ploy, but such heroics were for the foolhardy fools who put too much stock in songs. Still, I had to commend his tenacity. In fact, if this little plan went off, I might have indeed been consumed by the flames as I’d yet to take a decent rest and I was nearly sapped of components for meaningful spells—including those to make portals for escaping burning buildings.

  But he didn’t know that.

  I popped open the glass window and peered over the side. “Excuse me, gentlemen! I would very much rather you didn’t do what you are thinking of doing!”

  The posse stumbled back and looked at me with shock.

  I gave them a winning smile.

  They looked at each other, then one called up to me. “You kill Ronald?”

  I chuckled. “Quite the opposite, he and I are partners!”

  Ronald swore behind me. “Like h—”

  I held up a hand and turned my head to him. “Give me the names of those pesky merchants.”

  He stuttered. “I-I. . .”

  I looked up. “Or, since you already know who they are, perhaps I remove whatever protections the paladins had over them, and let you and your little posse deal with the merchants however you feel?” I turned to Atan. “Is that fine?”

  The paladin squinted at me, but nodded all the same.

  I stood tall and clapped my hands together. “Well? What do you say? Let’s clean up Maplebrook.”

  The guard stared at me for a good long while.

  I pursed my lips. “You know, your friends might be getting antsy. I’d really hate for them to burn down a perfectly good building right in the middle of our productive conversation.”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine.”

  Oh yes, things were looking favorably.

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