Graphs, sheets, data charts, and all other matters of summarization I could, and eventually condensed the kingdom's problems into a neat journal, which I aptly titled, “Problems to fix”...

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Leant back into my chair, the rain pouring out onto the windows, I sighed. I felt exhausted, yet somehow fulfilled, as my mind raced through plans and possibilities as to what I could do to repair the kingdom. Just as I got to what I could only say to be ‘a plan’, Elizabeth burst into the study, panting. “Your majesty!”

I stood up quickly, my chair falling down, I raced down to the entrance. By the time I got there, Elizabeth had already begun racing back to where she had came from. Barely catching up to her, we ran and ran, eventually reaching the great hall. Entering, I found what had caused Elizabeth to run so feverishly to me.

Sat in his throne, surrounded by the sobbing staff- the maids and butler, was my father, the king, slumped with a dagger plunged into his chest. The foul blood stank the entire hall up, but the stench of sorrow was more potent.

I raced to him, kneeling down to his side. “Who did this!?” I shouted, more so in anguish at the tears my staff produced than the death of my father. “I don’t know… But it was an attack for sure,” Eric responded, wiping his tears with a rag silently.

I stopped in my tracks, stared down at the dagger plunged into my fathers chest. Crooked. Broken. Rusted.

The blood… thick and coarse, smelling awful, so potent and strong- yet somehow I didn’t revolt at it. I stood up, and turned from him. “Gather me a shovel, and meet me outside at the gardens, each of you,” I said, sternly.

Each of the staff nodded, before turning to leave. After they each left, I carefully inspected my fathers corpse, now with more of an analytical eye. Feigning sorrow toward the death of somebody I didn’t know was easier than I expected, perhaps it was due to it being the first corpse I had ever seen in such proximity? I carefully pulled the dagger from his chest, inspecting it. It looked as though somebody had taken a stick of partially rusted metal, and molded it into a crude visage of a knife- before wrapping a bandage around its blunt edge. I stared at it blankly for a moment, before continuing with my observations.

Judging from the place of attack, alongside the direction of blood splatter, I was able to determine that the attacker must have hesitated. From my estimation, the blade was plunged from up close, likely someone who could get close to him. More than that, they must not have known how to use a weapon, as the knife didn’t pierce any internal organs, nor did it cut any arteries. Realizing this, I carefully lifted his neck, revealing some partially covered up hand prints- not particularly large, but red and purplish, clearly strangulation.

I sighed, the likelihood that this was committed by one of the staff was high- and, although the reason was inconclusive, I felt that it was part of something grander than myself. I pinched my nose, scowling, before lifting my fathers corpse onto my back. Turning down the hall, I followed out into the darkness and rain. Stepping out onto the small, pitiful excuse for a garden, I dropped his corpse onto the ground. Turning around, the staff had already arrived, and Eric handed me a shovel. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed hold of the shovel tightly, and stabbed it into the dirt.

Two grueling hours of shoveling later, the sweat and rain pouring down my face, my clothes drenched, I had dug a hole six or so feet deep. Climbing out, I dropped the shovel, and then wiped my brow. Turning to the staff, who all stood there silently, and walked to my father. Nodding at Eric, I grabbed my fathers arms, and Eric grabbed his legs. With all of our force, we lifted him, gently tossing him into the grave. “What about his crown?” Eric asked.

“I am undeserving, I shall earn my crown,” I said, staring sternly at the corpse of my father.

Taking the shovel, I began to shovel the mud into the hole, slowly filling it up, the shovel eventually breaking. Stabbing the handle into the dirt, marking the grave, I turned to the staff. “We meet in the hall now.” I said, before walking off that direction.

Arriving there, the group in tow, we entered. Silence permeated the stench filled room- as the blood still dried onto the floor and throne. As the staff gathered into a row, I stepped forward. “You, come forward,” I said, pointing at Elizabeth. She walked forward, hands interlocked behind her back, eyes red from crying.

“Yes your majesty?” She asked meekly. “You as well,” I said, pointing at Eric and then Cecilia.

Emily stood somewhat nervously, as I walked straight to her. Grabbing her wrists, I pulled them forward, looking at them. Bruised, purplish- and indentations from a rough, blunt, straight object. Pulling the dagger from my coat pocket, I placed it in the palm of her hand, fitting the indentation perfectly.

Ripping the dagger away, leaving her staring at her hands, in total fear, I took the dagger. “Sorry,” I said, before plunging the dagger into her gut. As she stood, silently in shock, blood pouring from her cheek, I pushed her to the ground, as I pulled the dagger out, leaving blood pouring out onto the floor. Her corpse lied there, starkly, as I had made sure to hit several arteries on the daggers passage to her liver. “Good riddance,” I muttered, dropping the dagger to the floor, and turning to the other staff.

Eric seemed a bit shocked, but as they had all watched it unfold, they seemed more saddened than anything else. “Well, as it stands, it appears as though I am now king. Starting today, no word of the kings death is to leave this keep- understood?” I said, to which they all nodded in unison. “As she was the one to commit the murder, she is to be buried in the bowels of the keep. I trust this task to you, Cecilia and Eric. Elizabeth, you are to accompany me to the city. I have to meet with the people,” I said, taking a rag from my pocket to wipe my bloodied hands.

Nodding, we each took off in separate directions, me and Elizabeth heading out into the city, dawn's light pouring into the keep through the windows. Heading down the path, into the city, we arrived at the entrance to the city within a few minutes. It wasn’t exactly bustling, but it was more lively than it seemed from the window view at the keep. The smell was horrendous, but it wasn’t revolting, so I pushed onward passed the people. Arriving in the town square, I looked around. Buildings, stacked onto one another half-hazardly, the smell of rot and decay permeating the homes, the only other buildings boarded up and condemned. The only noticeable place was the tavern, of which light poured out of, and the smell of mead flowed viscerally from.

Stepping into the tavern, we were greeted by the cheery welcome of the bartender. “Welcome to the-” She immediately stopped, perhaps recognizing me. Going silent, many of the patrons turned, however they all were stark drunk, quickly returning to the booze they had been drinking. Stepping to the tavern, I walked to the bar, Elizabeth in tow. “Barkeep, I’ve got to ask a few questions, is that okay?” I asked. “Not a problem,” She replied.

“So, out of all of the patrons, who here are the most unique?” I continued, seating myself.

“Erm… There’s an eye patch wearing woman, covered in scars who is currently passed out over there- probably an ex-knight. Other than her, there’s a few strong men- laborers, who aren’t totally alcoholics.” She said, wiping a glass.

“Thanks. This is on me,” I said, flipping a silver coin into the glass. She smirked, nodding, before returning to her work.

Turning, I walked to the woman who was passed out in a booth. Sitting down in the seat across from her, I slowly tapped her shoulder. She slowly sat up, her cloak partially falling off, revealing her to be wearing some thick leather armor- her visible skin darkened, covered in scars. “What do you want?” She asked, angered.

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“I’ve got a few questions, if you don’t mind,” I said, trying my best to act as a character full of joy.

“If you can drop that fake smile, I can answer a few,” She said, stretching. I sighed, before quickly dropping my act- and resting against the booth. “You saw through me fast,” I said. “Well, are you a soldier or something?” I continued.

“Not quite,” She said, leaning against the booth. Looking down next to her- I saw it, a bag, with the pommel of an axe sticking out. It clicked. “Ahh, I see. Well, I’m in need of someone like you- how does the allure of a paycheck sound?” I asked, clasping my hands together, business like.

“Not really. Don’t like being stuck somewhere, and I doubt you could provide a sufficient enough paycheck-”

“30 Gold Coins a year, four gold coin sign on bonus,” I said, interrupting her. She stopped immediately, before looking around quickly. “Are you some kind of trader.. Or like a noble or something?” She whispered.

“Not quite. If you agree, I can give you all the details and specifics,” I replied, whispering myself.

“... Alright. I’ll believe you for now, you… somehow seem trustworthy. Where do I go, when do I start?” She replied, leaning back.

“Now, and you will accompany me to the jobsite. At the moment, I have a bit more business to attend to in the city, and then we will head to your place of work,” I said, standing, reaching my hand out to shake hers. She looked at my hand, before sighing, and gripping my hand. “The names Lucille,” She said. “Good to work with you, Lucille,” I replied.

Heading to the barkeep once more, I reached into my vest, pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment. “Five silvers to hang this up above the bar, deal?” I said, leaning onto the bar. “Make that 8 and you’ve got a deal.” She responded. I nodded, passing over 8 silver coins, and the parchment. “Thanks for your patronage, sire,” She responded, whispering slightly. I nodded, heading out onto the street. “What was that?” Lucille asked. “You’ll learn soon enough,” I replied.

Walking back up the path, we reached the crest of the hill, and arrived at the keep. Entering the front door, Eric stood at the entryway. “Welcome home, your majesty,” Eric said, bowing. Almost immediately, Lucille swung herself back in surprise. “This rinky-dink shithole has a monarch!?” Lucille shouted. I merely chuckled, patting Eric on the shoulder. “Good to be back, although we were only gone an hour, the thought is appreciated,” I said. Waving Lucille, Eric, and Elizabeth to follow, I headed up the stairs and down the hall to the study. Heading up the stairs, I began to speak.

“So, Lucille, I am in fact King of this ‘rinky-dink shithole’ as you put it. And no I am not offended, because you put it in proper terminology.” Continuing up the stairs, I seated myself at the desk.

“To put it simply, Lucille you have been hired to manage military affairs.” I said.

“Military affairs? I’m no general, you know that right?” Lucille said.

“I’m more than aware. I’ve got a gut feeling that you’re more than just a mercenary as well, but I'm in such a dire state of need that as long as you are talented, I’ll even take the unscrupulous,” I said, leaning back.

Stepping back slightly, Lucille reached for her weapon. “What do you mean ‘unscrupulous’?” Lucille said. “Well, lets see here… Judging from your character, the weapon you wield, your mannerisms, as well as that nice little wordage you used, I’d wager to guess you’re a bandit, acting or retired.” I said, smirking.

Drawing her weapon, she lurched, landing onto my desk, her axe blade centimeters from my face. Elizabeth and Eric stood shocked, faces expressing fear and terror at once. Without flinching I began to speak. “No, you see, I could give a damn about you being a bandit- in fact I see it as a perk. The job is still available if you’d like it,” I said, slowly pushing her axe out of my face. “You’ve got some balls, ‘king’. You know I could just rob this place blind and leave without issue right?” Lucille said, smirking. “Yeah, but there haven’t been any active bandit groups in the area for years, and I doubt you're leaving this mountain range alive without a party of at least three,” I said, standing up.

“I can gather a party that size, you know?” She said, sheathing her axe.

“Actually, that’s impossible. I don’t know if you were too tired, or too drunk to notice, but there is no adventuring population in this city. You’re possibly the most capable fighter in the whole city, so, unless you can train some willing folks and head out, you’re stuck,” I said, walking around the desk, crossing my arms.

“Who said I wasn’t strong enough to make it through the mountain range alone anyway?” Lucille said.

“Me. Those mountains are deadly, in case you were unaware. Orcs, goblins, kobolds, dragons, the works,” I said.

“Oh I’m well aware, but I’m pretty tough. In case you were unaware,” Lucille said.

“Not tough enough. Look, we can argue back and forth all day about your capability, or you can look at the hard facts. Firstly, you, although strong are not nearly enough to face even a few of the common foes that reside at the tip of the mountain. An orc is twice your size, and your combat experience is no doubt only against humans, and with a group to back you up. This means that against that commonly seen of an enemy, you would likely be torn to shreds in mere minutes, alone, in the woods. Assuming you weren’t taken to be used by the Shamans of the goblins or kobolds,” I said.

“I am not swayed by your words ‘king’. You may make a good argument, but I am not so easily willing to work with common folk. I have money to make, and people to rob, so if you’ll excuse me, I have a treasury to loot-”

“And I have a duel to fight,” I said, interrupting her.

“What!?” Lucille shouted, as I stepped forward.

“If you aren’t swayed by words, you will be swayed by combat skill. In this duel, I give you my entire treasury, and my life for free. If I win, you work for me for at least two months, and then may leave at your leisure,” I said.

“... I agree to your terms. A bit one sided, someone’s got some confidence eh?” Lucille said, smirking wide. I nodded, and stepped to Eric. “Eric, do you mind if I borrow your gloves?” I asked. “Not at all, your majesty,” He said, handing me his gloves.

After slipping them on, I guided Lucille out to the courtyard in the center of the keep.

“So, the rules are simple, Lucille. The first to fall unconscious or die, loses, simple as that. Eric here will play referee, and if I die he will guide you to the treasury.” I said, cracking my knuckles.

“Quite simple indeed.” Lucille said, placing her bag down and readying her axe.

And with a chop of Eric’s hand, the battle commenced. Lucille swept through quickly, her axe high above her, clearly underestimating me. As she swung down, I placed all of my strength, effort, and speed into one swift movement. Using all of my strength, and some innate, gut instinct, I swung my lower lug down. As if time had slowed, I readied my fist, and as she soared over me, I lunged upward, my fist plunging itself deep into her exposed stomach. I gritted my teeth, the weight of an entire person resting on my clenched fist.

Taking my other hand, I gripped onto her legs, and shoved upward, tossing her backward. She quickly flew, landing on her stomach, axe sent flying. I quickly jumped backward, now extraordinarily tired. Lucille stood, coughing, wheezing, and with a large purplish-red fist mark on her abdomen. “Ouch…” She muttered, her forehead vein bulging. I smirked, feigning clarity and strength, pushing my body past its limits to stand. Straining every ounce of strength I had, I placed myself in a stance prepared to fight. As she rose to a position herself, a thought crossed my mind for a moment.

‘How do I know how to fight!?’

It quickly vanished, as she charged, preparing a sweeping movement of her own. As she came in subtly, preparing a swift leg knock out, I sent my fists flying in a lurch, surprising her. She quickly blocked- however it was a subversion, as my second fist flew into her already bruised abdomen. As she instinctively lowered her guard to block her wound, I swung my fist back, and sent it squarely into her face, causing her to stumble back. As she did, I placed all of my strength into my leg, and plunged my knee into her abdomen, hitting the already bruised area once more, causing her to fall back. With my knee already in the air, I came falling down on her. Barely managing to improvise a stance, I made it out to be as though it was an intentional lock, as I threw a few jabs into her face, before standing up myself.

By this point, my feint of strength had begun to wear- as my body was shaking from the exertion. Muscles that I didn’t even know existed quaked and ached in pain, something I had only half anticipated.

Stepping back, I looked down at her. Lucille still breathed- although harshly, and was clearly out for the count. Just to be sure, I knelt down and checked her pulse and breathing directly. Clear as day, she was unconscious.

“Eric, take her to the guest room. Elizabeth, prepare me a stack of parchments and ink, place it in the study. For now though, I’ll be in my bedroom resting.” I said, panting, now showing my clear exhaustion.

“Also- get me some water please.”