Maplebrook’s Population: 391
- Jevrick Support: ??
- Ronald Support: ??
===
Ronald stepped up on his wooden platform, which stood about three feet above the ground. Even with a step, the process of climbing up it was terrible on his knees. The sacrifices he would endure for the good of Maplebrook. He would endure whatever pain he needed to see the town safe and rid of the monsters that now filled the town, many of which watched him now.
Yes, there he stood across from the late Mayor Clyde’s statue, with the remaining three-hundred so citizens of Maplebrook gathered around it. To the right were the nasty lot of kobolds who couldn’t seem to stand still, running-a-muck like school children, tackling each other and snickering and just all around making him uneasy. At the center of them was that crowned kobold, who showed no effort in controlling his flock in their display of dancing and wrestling. Despicable.
Then to Ronald’s left was the Town Hall, where two abominations watched from the belfry, making his skin crawl as he witnessed their glowing eyes. He turned his gaze from them and muttered under his breath, “Let’s be done with this.”
***
Ser Clyde II had followed the crowd as it gathered in central square, a place he had not been for some time. He was, indeed, surprised to see no one recognized him. He supposed it had been a few years indeed, and he did not have a beard last time he was in Maplebrook, as he did now. It turned out to be to his benefit, as he realized not being recognized would allow him to sneak closer to the mage who was supposedly running for mayor, hoping to steal his father’s legacy after murdering him. Truly despicable.
In any case, Ser Clyde II now wrapped himself in a cloak to further aid in his hidden identity. No doubt should a single person remember him, then he would lose the element of surprise and be forced to retreat—to regroup, of course!
Junior now found himself beside a very familiar statue. One that in many ways he was as ashamed to stand next to again as he was proud to see his father hadn’t taken it down in the years since Junior had left to drink and be merry with the dwarves.
The crowd suddenly hushed as a door opened from the town hall, and out stepped something which rattled his heart. In fact, half the crowd seemed to murmur and gasp at the appearance of the skeletal man, who stood well taller than any of them. Clyde II, in fact, could not fathom what he was seeing. So he did what he usually did when he saw something that frightened him; he took a healthy swig of drink from his flask, and readied to draw his sword.
***
===
Jevrick’s Main Quest: Restore Maplebrook
- Win Election.
- Earn Maplebrook’s trust.
- Rebuild houses.
- Restore population.
Side Quests:
- Find out who burned down the chapel.
- Fulfill obligation to Atan
===
I had expected such silence as I emerged from the town hall. Every soul from hunter to old woman to kobold quieted as I strode to my platform next to Ronald. Swathes of the townsfolk shared a face of disgust in looking at me. Why would they offer such a distasteful impression toward me when I wore my visage and looked like any normal man? Well, it was because I was not in fact wearing my visage. I had made the choice to dispel it before stepping out into the town square. Why should I hide who I truly was from them? Why should they deign to vote for a man who hid behind a false face? I was not the handsome suitor, I was the magically bound skeletal man who had sold his soul long ago for immortal life, but who now sought to use that undying existence to build this town up from its ashes. They deserved as much a right to see who I truly was, as I possessed the right to present who I truly was. So they could stay or fear me all they desired. The truth was that I would not walk in shame of myself. I would stand proud as Mayor Clyde once had, and speak nothing but the truth. This would be my final bid to win the people of Maplebrook. Win or lose, at least I had done so with dignity.
So, I stepped upon my platform, and prepared myself for the end of this campaign. I stared up at Clyde’s stature and tipped my hat respectfully to the man who had given me this chance at redemption, his undue sacrifice lingering ever on my mind.
I then turned to Ronald, whose face was scrunched up like a shriveled prune.
I simply nodded to him and waved a hand to give him the first speech.
He got a smug look off of that, and addressed the crowd. “Dear friends, my fellow citizens of Maplebrook. Thank you all for coming here on this day. My, how we have faced such hardship together in recent days. Hardships that began when this creature arrived to meddle with us.” He jabbed a finger at me. Some folk within the crowd booed; I assumed it was directed at me.
Ronald continued. “We have had to endure the death of so many wonderful people, while being forced to shelter monsters of all kinds. Our town has become a lair to a terrible villain, and I promise to put an end to this tyranny. Let us close this chapter of mourning, and move into a future of peace once more.”
There was a decent wave of cheers and claps throughout the crowd at this statement.
As I had predicted, Ronald focused his entire campaign on me. Well, I would however focus none on him.
“Dear mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, grandparents, uncles, aunts, wives, husbands, workers, farmers, and everyone who calls Maplebrook home—thank you,” I said.
The crowd looked around to each other with stark confusion.
I continued. “Thank you for your endurance. Thank you for holding the line so long, while many of your friends and family fled to the corners of Terragard. You could have left with them, left this town to dust and ruin. Yet, those of you few who stayed chose to stay for a reason: you believe in the future of Maplebrook. You believe that this place is home. You believe that this place is where hope can exist. You believe, and so do I.” I removed my top hat from my head and placed it on my chest. “I mourn your losses, both in death and in exodus. I mourn that this once peaceful town has been set upon by so many tragedies. Yet, I stand here to show you proof that these dark days are fleeting, and that we are stepping into a prosperous future together. You see, I could speak to my accomplishments in dismantling the Green Bandits, negotiating peace with the kobolds, eradicating the Nightfire infestation—which you most certainly seemed aloof to—or champion the resurrections I was able to muster. I could speak at length about these things. But, I will not. You see, I believe actions should undoubtedly speak louder than words. So, if I were to ask you one thing to consider today, it would be thus: who has served your town better? Who has fought for you? Who has saved this town? Think upon those things as you vote, and I promise that no matter your answer, that I see you all as people I am proud to have served—if even for a moment.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
With that, I concluded my speech and watched the voting take place.
It was a simple process. Each man or woman of age had two clipped tokens, one made of wood, and one made of clay. They would then bring forth the token they meant to vote with and set it upon one of several metal rods at the base of Ronald and my platforms. Whoever had the most tokens would win the election.
Imagine to my surprise as I watched the tokens, well, progress as they did. . .
===
Maplebrook’s Population: 391
Votes Left: 390
- Jevrick Support: 1
- Ronald Support: 0
===
I nodded to Goodwife Jane as she slipped the first token of the voting upon my platform. She smiled to me and awaited her husband to do the same.
===
Votes Left: 389
- Jevrick Support: 2
- Ronald Support: 0
===
“Thank you,” the man said to me.
“No, thank you.” I said back.
They were followed by the nine other families I had helped, while the guardsmen and their families proceeded to vote for Ronald.
===
Votes Left: 346
- Jevrick Support: 22
- Ronald Support: 23
===
And then the great surge of voting began, with a constant stream of townsfolk that passed by our platforms and left behind their token.
===
- Jevrick Support: 40
- Ronald Support: 39
===
- Jevrick Support: 50
- Ronald Support: 61
===
- Jevrick Support: 55
- Ronald Support: 65
===
- Jevrick Support: 100
- Ronald Support: 98
===
- Jevrick Support: 131
- Ronald Support: 130
===
On the voting went. On, and on, back and forth. So surprisingly the people were split. I Could win. I could lose. It was impossible to tell. But I maintained my poise throughout, awaiting for that final tally to be counted.
Within two hours, judgement was called.
The vote could have gone anyway.
But I awaited the revelation with the utmost dignity.
With each click of a token on Ronald’s platform, I then heard a click upon mine.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
But the last of votes finally slipped upon my stack, as did the last of Ronald’s.
“Thank you,” I said to Fern and Lysa, who bowed their heads to me.
The last to vote for Ronald was a man whom I had never met, in fact, most everyone who had voted for him were people I had not known, which were many within the town. But it mattered not. The tokens were cast, and the votes were locked.
Guild Master Vrak and Watcher Tobi examined the tokens and deliberated on the final count. Finally, after a couple of recounts, they turned to the crowd and declared the winner.
Well, who were you expecting?
Who did the town trust most?
Who was to be the future mayor?
If you guessed me, well. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .It was. . .
“The count is 210 to 181,” Tobi shouted in his young voice, shaking with the truth.
My world froze.
No one spoke.
No one booed.
No one cheered.
Not until Guild Master Vrak said, “Blessings upon our new Mayor, Jevrick La Kel!”
If I had been ice, I would have melted.
I could hardly fathom reality.
But it was as clear as day. My stack of tokens was, in fact, taller than Ronald’s.
I stared at the guardsman. I was so in disbelief that I needed to see his face to believe it was true.
He was utterly horrified, eyes widened, and mouth agape. That was how I knew, I had just been elected mayor of Maplebrook fair as any election could go.
“It’s a trick!” Ronald finally spouted.
This insufferable man!
“The-the guild master is corrupt!” He said, pointing at Vrak, whose eyes darkened with disdain. “He must have corrupted young Tobi, pitting them against me!”
The young watcher’s shoulder sank, as if he’d just been dealt a terrible wound.
Vrak hissed. “How dare you cast shame upon your own. You put the role of counter upon him!”
“It was a trick,” Ronald cried, “you tricked me into choosing him!”
Tobi looked as though he might cry as his mentor denounced him.
This insult would not do. No young man should be made to be dishonored by someone they looked up to, and as mayor, I needed to protect my people from enemies from within and without.
“Enough of this!” I shouted.
The crowd and Ronald all turned to me in my outburst.
I pointed at Clyde’s statue. “You disgrace the work that the noble Mayor Clyde has built. Each man and woman here have had the right to cast their vote, and through the word of individuals both you and I had given our trust, a decision has been counted. Do not shame the man who brought Commander Dread to his knees by this insult. Do not tarnish the great work that that hero Clyde had done in his legacy before taking up the mantle to lead this town as mayor and hero!”
All stood in silence upon my words. I thought that it had been because I had spoken so fiery, so convicted, so empowering.
But no, it was because of a reason I could not have anticipated.
Ronald scowled. “Mayor Clyde did not kill Commander Dread.”
What was this deception? “You lie! All know that Clyde and the Old Guard traveled into Dread’s fort and struck him down. All know that Clyde Funion was the last survivor on that noble quest, the only mortal to have faced Dread and lived.”
Vrak sighed. “That was not Mayor Clyde.”
My mind tumbled over itself. What was this terrible revelation being made to me? “If it was not Mayor Clyde. . . then who?”
That is when a new voice spoke over the crowd, one of which had the timber of a man’s voice I had once heard long ago. “You speak of me. . .”
I turned to one who stood next to Clyde’s statue. He wore a robe, pulling back a hood to reveal a bearded face, with familiar green eyes and red hair. Did I know this man? Was he. . .
“You, hic, speak of Mayor Clyde’s son, who ish I. Ser Clyde II, Bane of Dread.”