Matthew Jones
Stories
7
Chapters
2,283
Words
4.7 K
Comments
0
Reading
23 m
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I stand at the foot of the Mansion's entrance, at the very edge of the bursting crowd and on a large, raised platform hastily, but finely put together for me. Looking over the people, they all have a single thing in common. They're tired. Dead tired. About to fall into a coma tired, and that's the very reason I'm standing here tonight as the sun begins to set. So little has actually happened on my fourth day away from Aste but the day breezed past me just as fast as any other. Well, perhaps not any…-
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In the hours after I left the dinky tavern, leaving Fragas behind to think on his choices or rather, the lack of it with my two unconscious victims. I settled nicely in the Mayor's Mansion, as always, luxury and fortune does well with me. The place, much like any other excessively luxurious building has it all. Nice carpeting, empty armours and stairs leading to many, many rooms. What it doesn't have however, is exclusivity, something I quickly establish with my presence. I may be their saviour but that…
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The chair is kicked back, clattering across the floor along with the several dishes of food and utensils that's been brought down in a raging fit. "Argh!" Reven screams. A literal scream, like his very being was being attack despite the fact that he's just disrupted the entire meeting. But of course, I expected this to happen. His guard beside him doesn't reflect his master's fury though, merely standing still as rock beside him, glaring at Yelenia and Daria. Over the course of the meeting, I've…
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In that very moment, hearing my reply to the challenging words of his Mayor, Alric, Fragas steps forward, wide eyed and antsy. "You've never said your true intentions for our village either, Necromage." I frown hearing him call me Necromage, I'd much rather be called 'Milord' like Juri does. "What do you intend on doing with Demme, what is the use of an army to a Mayor, to a ruler of a mere city?" He demands, no doubt the worse of the scenario's spreads through his head as he speaks. Anselm and I share…
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The filthy, wretched looking tavern owner gives in to my demand before I can even introduce myself as his worst nightmare or something along those lines. He stumbles up to his feet, the stench of liquor rising him. However, he promptly falls back down on his ass, either from suddenly jumping to his feet or the fact that he recognizes the short man beside me as the Mayor. Alric does nothing but stare and I take another step forward. "Ah! Alright, they're downstairs! Downstairs in the basement with all…
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The story I've been told certainly doesn't answer everything there is to know about the village of Demme, in fact, the Mayor, Alric's seemingly sympathetic behaviour to the people's suffering makes no sense. I have yet to be given answers of why there are bodies littered around the place, according to Shaco's scan, especially around the Mayor's mansion. It all seems all too convenient to skip over this little fact, and yet, I let it happen. In good faith I take a look at the stout, angry, outraged and…
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Dealing with people who can't and won't be moved by money is a new thing I've begun to find truly annoying and pesky. In my time running Asher's Elven North operations, a lot of the guardsmen, drivers and all the sorts were easy to grease with a bit of tokus here and there. Nothing ever too excessive and no one was proud or perhaps idealistically foolish enough to say no to a silver. Working around at the very top of a society that's on the verge of an implosion with all the divisions, the silver doesn't…
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I never thought I'd be thinking this or even saying this but… "Elves are troublesome!" I barely stop myself from pulling on the hairs on my head and force myself back into some semblance of composure in the presence of a stranger. Well, we've been working together day and night for the past three days and seen each other dried out – well, she's seen me dried out, she on the other hand seems to have an abundance of energy and always seems to be ready and able to keep going. Hastra. Short and ever…
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Alric's declaration comes at a shock to many of the people and even I as well, although for vastly different reasons. For the people, both mine and Alric's, the very fact that a cursed Necromancer is standing right before them is enough to strike fear and anxiety through them. Whereas, I'm surprised because, well, Alric somehow managed to figure it out. How could he? I have barely been active as the famed and frightening Necromancer for barely a few months. I highly doubt word of my existence has even…
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By the time the sun is starting to dawn on the village, the men and I had already arranged ourselves in a neat little row in front of the gate. With Piol standing in front of us as our proud proof of success. Although, I'm sure the Mayor of this place would have anticipated that a Mage of my calibre would succeed in the little self-appointed challenge, I wonder what Alric has planned to keep his power over the village and its people. "Hellllllooooo!" I bellow out loudly, I've had Shaco slither back into…
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