Chapter Thirty-Eight - A Knock

  54th Day of Spring - Year 1758 of the Golden Era

  Shorefarm, Yellowfield, Draya Calyrex

  Maldrak looked up as someone knocked on the door into his office. "Come in," he said, and a moment later the door carefully swung open. It was Jorvin, though the Mage-Knight wasn't alone. Behind him came the three puppets he'd sent out just yesterday.

  They seemed a little battered. Gambesons ripped and covered in blood that couldn't be their own, puppet limbs scraped and worn, and one of them was walking with a rather pronounced limp.

  "These three just showed up," Jorvin said.

  "Welcome back," Maldrak said, addressing the three directly. "I imagine you're here to report on your quest?"

  "Yes, sir," the middlemost of them said. Viridian, he thought. The three were nearly identical at a glance, and it was hard to tell them apart, though he acknowledged to himself that there were differences.

  He gestured to the space before his desk, then set down his quill. The letter he was in the process of writing could wait. "Report, then," he said.

  The three puppets walked up to stand at attention before him, and Jorvin found his way to the wall next to the entrance, leaning back with his arms crossed as he listened in.

  "Where do you want us to begin?" Viridian asked.

  "From the start. Let's do this in chronological order. Though I may ask for some amount of clarification as you go."

  The puppet nodded. "We left here, and made our way towards the Mage's tower, as you asked us to. On the way, we crossed a graveyard where we encountered a talking undead person."

  Maldrak listened intently as they reported a strange meeting, one that hadn't figured in any of his schemes, and yet it seemed to have come out for the better. "I've heard myths of such a person," he finally said. "Don't concern yourself about it overly much. Though knowing that the dead are rising is noteworthy."

  They wouldn't be a threat. The dead had their own worries and they were rarely shared with the living. But the undead could be handled with ease by even a mildly prepared person in most cases.

  The puppet nodded, then continued her recounting of events. Meeting Magus Beornhelm and their impression of the man, his task for them which he insisted upon before surrendering any aid, and finally their trek up to Shorefarm proper.

  Maldrak asked a few pointed questions about the magus they'd met and his tower, but didn't linger on it too long. The tower seemed to be in a working state, unburned, still standing, and with a magus of some small amount of power within its walls. It would serve.

  Shorefarm's state seemed notably poorer from the recounting.

  Viridian painted a picture of a place where the serfs and free peasants were on the verge of starvation, led by schemers and madmen, and unprepared for the destruction of the world they'd been familiar with up until now.

  The meeting with the High Priest shed some light on the why, and Maldrak began forming plans to care for the man already.

  "Ah, spending the night in town would explain your late arrival here," he said. "No worries. I didn't expect this quest to be rapidly done. In fact I'm impressed that you've returned so soon. But in any case, go on. You met with the lord of the town?"

  Viridian nodded, then explained their meeting with Baron Goldfilius. The man sounded like what Maldrak had come to expect of a proper noble of Draya Calyrex.

  "He sent you to assassinate the High Priest?" Maldrak asked.

  "Yes," Viridian replied.

  Maldrak leaned back into his seat. He wasn't sure how pleased he was with his... tools being appropriated by someone else like that. Beornhelm's request he could accept. The magus was likely hiding some level of desperation, and his demand was born of that, but the Baron?

  "I see," he said. "Go on."

  The puppets spoke of returning to Shorefarm and combating the High Priest, eventually killing the man and sapping him of his essence. He was impressed, though...

  "We need better magic," the one with the limp said. Lazur. "We have a light. It isn't enough to fight essence users that are so strong."

  "You may well be correct," he said. "We have a few more disks like the one you're using now. I see that you've innovated with such a simple spell, so perhaps you will employ the next with the same creativity."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  The puppet stood a little taller, and he felt that she was pleased with the response. It was fine. They deserved some level of reward for their work thus far.

  The puppets had killed the priest and returned to the Baron, where they retrieved one of Beornhelm's apprentices and a pair of letters.

  "This one is yours," Viridian said. She reached into her gambeson and pulled out a slightly-crumpled letter.

  He examined the seal on the yellow wax. A dragon curled around a stalk of wheat next to a smaller seal of the Goldfilius family. This letter was a request from the baron acting as a noble of the Yellowfields.

  He broke the seal and opened the letter.

  Dear Count Magus Maldrak,

  I write to you as Baron of Shorefarm and Lord of the noble family Goldfilius. I suspect that you are well aware of the tribulations that have befallen Draya Calyrex, perhaps moreso than even myself. As such, I wish to seek your counsel.

  These are troubling times indeed, and I would be a most unwise man and a terrible lord were I not to seek allies rather than adversaries at this time.

  And so I extend a hand in invitation. Please attend me at my family's estate overlooking Shorefarm itself whereupon we might discuss the condition of the world and our future places within it.

  Cordially,

  Baron Lucian Goldfilius, Lord Protector of Shorefarm and its environs

  "Thank you," Maldrak said to his puppets. This will give me much to ponder. Did you successfully deliver the apprentice back to his master?"

  "Yes," Viridian said. "The Magus seemed pleased. He also received a letter from the baron. We didn't tamper with it."

  "That's fine," he replied. "I will have to visit both of them. Jorvin, would you be willing to accompany me?"

  "Aye," Jorvin said. "Just the two of us?"

  "It may be best that way, yes," he said. More attendants could be seen as a show of force, but would also perhaps make it difficult to move. Jorvin was worth ten regular soldiers, and he trusted the man besides. "We'll leave at first light. Puppets, the three of you have impressed me. I will reward you in due time. Magus Suffragus Nocthorn will give you those aforementioned spell disks on the morrow. Take the next two days to repair yourselves and absorb the essence you've gathered."

  "And to train," Jorvin said. "You wouldn't have been injured if you knew how to move to begin with."

  "Indeed," Maldrak said, though he knew little of such forms of combat. "The artificers have been working with the local smith who was rescued. You might find them able to repair your bodies and equipment as well. If all goes well, this village and the larger Shorefarm will soon be under our rule."

  "Thank you," Viridian said with a slight bow. "Time to ourselves would be... nice."

  "I imagine so," he said. "Though it may not be as much time as you'd like. There are still many tasks ahead of us, and soon you will be straying further afield. Our ultimate goal is beyond the Yellowfield."

  "Where?" Viridian asked.

  "Sorrowmire, though don't concern yourselves overly much with that. We have much to do before we ever push in that direction. Let's first see what we can learn from the Magus and his tower."

  The puppets nodded.

  He hoped the next couple of days would be good for them. This project had already proven somewhat successful, but not so much that he had recouped even a tenth of his initial investment. But if these three trained, practiced, and grew just a little stronger...

  Yes, there was potential here, and nothing excited him quite so much as seeing potential flourish, especially when it was to his own benefit.

  He refrained from letting his emotions show, however. Potential might be at hand, but that didn't change the fact that the amount of work to be done was yet monumental.

  "Jorvin, see to things in town. Let's make sure that the sailors build appropriate defences. We might soon have a lot more people to work with. We're going to need housing and food for them, which won't be easy to source."

  "And where are we getting that food and those people?" Jorvin asked.

  Maldrak did grin now. "For that, you'll have to see tomorrow," he said.

  ***