The entry room was a large room with chairs in the corners, a couple wall hangings and a simple secretary desk, the writing surface folded up to cover and simple drawers with some light ornamentation. The was fairly well filled with our small watch group.
The mayor watched me take my place in the back and cleared his throat. “Needless to say, you are called into active duty.” Normally being told you were getting more money is cause for celebration but the mayor didn’t have to wait for noises of excitement to calm. Faces here displayed a mix of worry, anxiety and fear. He continued stating to the group “Today a man has died due to mass panic.” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. He and Garen had been friends. This had to be hard on him, yet outside of small gestures like this you wouldn’t know his pain.
His voice did not waver or crack as he continued “Nerves are shot, the town is entirely spooked. We need to ensure nothing sparks further witch hunts. This town still bears the scars and memories of the old necromancer. Each generation since the stories have gotten darker and more gruesome.” He shook his head, looking over the watch members. “The dog could’ve been the trick of a fickle spirit… Or” he paused, shrugging “there could very well be a necromancer among us again.” Skandro paused, measuring the effect of his words. “I don’t know. And the mob that ended a man’s life? They didn’t know either.”
“Have any of you seen anything odd over the last several days?” He walked back and forth in front of the group checking our faces for any indication that we had some info for him. People glanced at one another or shook their heads. “New halfer in the poor quarter.” Bran said. I ground my teeth in frustration. It wasn’t that he noted that there was a new person, it was that it was a ‘halfer’ and that it was said as though the case were closed, mystery solved.
Bran called anyone that had anyone of mixed blood a halfer. He had outright stated that halfers were the result of unnatural perversion caused by interfering spirits. Obviously nothing like that could happen through love. And while the mayor seemed to view the poor quarter with distaste, Bran looked there for every problem and actively pushed to have its people run off. The few times he patrolled the poor sector people got bullied or worse, beaten usually due to some “suspicious behavior”.
“Hm. It is good to note anyone new to our community.” Skandro said. “I’ll check it out!” blurted Bran. Skandro nodded “You and Baz will look into that. I will send Baz to meet you once I’ve talked with him, Mowris and Ocran.” Bran huffed unhappily. He and I did not get along, not only because his views on the poor quarter which would be enough to put the two of us at odds, but I am a ‘halfer’. The accident and circumstance of my birth was a sin I apparently could not be forgiven of. I’ve told him next time I would choose a different more acceptable race and while I was at it a wealthy family to be born into. I don’t think he believes me.
“Our first goal is to calm the populace.” The mayor stated. “We need to show them that we are out there in force, keeping them safe so they don’t feel the need to take matters into their own hands again. You will be out there to make sure nothing else sparks another killing. Keep your ears open and your mouths closed. No need to feed them anything to fan their fear. We’ve seen how they react to facing their fears. If we do face an enemy it has already caused us to kill one of our own because I can promise you that Garen was no necromancer.”
“Each of you” he pointed to a few groups “go to your areas and patrol. At the end of your patrols, notify the others who will take over” People turned to their partners and started working out details amongst themselves. He raised his voice over the rising noise “No one travels alone! Keep your horns handy and everyone keep alert. If you hear a horn townspeople and your team members could be in grave danger. Everyone needs to answer immediately. Keep an eye out for any unusual activity. If you see anything, do not engage unless someone’s life is in immediate danger. Get help immediately. Report back here each night. Let me know of anything odd you see or hear out there.” As people began filing out he glanced around seeing me added “Baz, Mowris, Ocran” he said nodding to each of us in turn. He looked at me. “Baz, I understand you were first on the scene.” I nodded. “Then I will take you first.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Mowris shot me a concerned glance. Most consider me an ‘honorary’ watch member. Someone that the mayor raised out of the poor sector in his generosity. A charity case. Truth is I was blackmailed into joining them, but I’d stopped holding that against them a while back. Mowris seemed to have a soft spot for the underdog and I was fine with that. I smiled back at her to let her know all was good.
Skandro turned and walked through a doorway leading further into the building. The front door closed, the sounds of people descending the outside stair and the murmur of their conversation faded to nothingness. Silence fell on the room as I got up and followed the mayor through the door. The mayor sat at a desk readying his ink. He motioned to the seat beside the desk. Nikki stood behind him, watching me as I entered the room and sat in the chair.
Skandro glanced at me, pen on paper. “Why were you there, Baz?” “Someone shrieked ‘Necromancer’. The sound was panicked, raw. I was on patrol nearby so I was able to respond quickly” I answered. Skandro was writing. Without looking up he asked “Whose voice was it?” Keeping my mind on the uncertainty of identifying a shrieking voice in the distance I simply answered “I don’t know.” Though I was pretty sure that voice belonged to Arla. I’m not entirely sure at my reticence. I guess I would rather follow up on that one myself without throwing someone out there without being sure.
The mayor took me through the entire encounter, requesting details of sometimes seemingly odd items, such as what the girl was throwing up. I was used to this, having gone through the ritual with the mayor a good number of times and answered all the questions, providing the detail I could. As I sat there answering questions my eyes played over the desk. The lines of the desk suggested that it had grown this way. No seam was visible or obvious, the grain flowed from one part to the next. Darker and lighter woods were inlaid forming natural looking designs which hid drawers and other compartments. “If I could create furniture half this nice I would be set”, I thought as I answered another question almost automatically while another part of my brain continued wandering. I had asked about the desk once, envious, but thinking a desk made by Crai a bit extravagant, even for the mayor and I had been right. The desk was a gift. I wondered what it would take to get a piece of furniture Crai made as a gift. I sure wasn’t buying one on my salary.
When I first started working for the Mayor he would stop me constantly asking about details that I had seen but my mind had simply absorbed as background. This was frustrating and difficult. After working with the mayor for about a year now the mayor tended to ask fewer questions. My recall of items had sharpened until I could describe a scene I had witnessed down to minute details, even if I had only seen it for a short time. I finished and waited while the mayor wrapped up his notes. He finished writing my notes, set down a new page and looked to Nikki, pen poised. “What did you get from Evan?” He asked.
“He seems pretty shook up.” She said “He blames himself, stating that Garen died because of his curse. I didn’t get much from him besides remorse, frustration, confusion and anger. It’s a hard mix to read but not unexpected under the circumstances. I mentioned to him that Garen left him the lending business as you asked. His reaction was immediately anger and frustration. If he did it, he didn’t do it to take over the business. He actually said you should’ve been given the business, Mayor, and I am pretty sure he meant it.” She paused a moment then added “I also found no magic on him.” Her ability also lets her detect the presence of magic. She told me once that magic had an aura that she could see when she focused. This had come up when she was talking with me about what I did with magic. I apparently didn’t rate an aura but she said that was pretty normal for those with abilities. It didn’t make them innately magic. That was good, she had noted, laughing. It would make her job hard if people wandered around looking like they had a magical item on them when it was just an ability.
The mayor nodded, continuing to write. “Baz, keep your eye out. If there is an actual necromancer out there we need to root them out fast. Keep the Forest Lords appearance to yourself. I don’t want old legends crawling out of the wood, stirring up any zealotry in the middle of all this. Perhaps he’s just taking care of his own, but his appearance makes me to think we aren’t done with this mess yet. Be careful out there.” He looked up, setting his pen down. “Please send Mowris in.”
As Mowris headed toward the mayor Ocran called out to me. “Meet up with Bran before he decides to wander around in the poor quarter on his own. Nodding I headed out, not looking forward to an evening with Bran.