REVILED

Bartholomew Decker sat at his desk staring at the reports littering his desk. He pressed his palms against his eyes and pulled on his hair. A headache throbbed behind his eyes.

“B-boss.”

Decker peeked through his fingers, “What?” he said with a growl.

A worker stood in front of him, his hat crushed in his hands, “We a…lost anotha…d-delivery.”

Decker sat up taking a deep breath, “Leave,” The worker placed his hat onto his head and quickly left. Decker stared at the closed door then slammed his fists onto his desk. “Dammit!” The rats were already thorns in my side, and now I must deal with this damned machine.

“Don’t hurt yourself old man,” Decker looked up to the young man striding into the room. The young man combed his fingers through his black hair, and his gray eyes glistened with cunning. It was like looking at his younger self.

“I’m not in the mood boy,”

“I told you not to trust that quack, Pops” the young man said dropping onto the couch and kicking his feet up onto a table. “But no, you decided to fund his ‘little project.’”

“Enough Baron!” Decker sighed heavily, “I have to find someway to clean up this mess.”

“Let me handle it pops,” Baron said.

“You?” Decker said with a chuckle, “And how exactly will you ‘handle it?’”

“Well, I’ll need that spell book first,”

“No, the Tome of Elithis stays where it is!” Decker said slapping the desk, “Now leave, I have business to take care of.”

Baron sighed getting up, “Fine old man, I’ll leave you to your ‘business,’” he said leaving the room. Baron smirked at the sound of his father’s cursing through the door.

“Master Baron,” a woman stood by the door. She wore a well-pressed dress with a high collar. Her dark brown hair pulled into a braided bun. “Please don’t antagonize your father. These last few months have been stressful for him.”

“It’s his own fault Taela,” Baron said, “Now he’s suffering the consequences of his choices.” Taela looked disappointed, “Fine, you win.”

Taela gave a small smirk, “Thank you,”

“Still, we need to do something about this,” Baron said starting to walk down the hall, “Have a carriage brought up front, will you.”

“And where are you going?”

“Castle Jericho,” Baron said with a sly smile, “I want to do some research.”

It was midday by the time Baron stepped out of the carriage and stared up at Castle Jericho. Castle Jericho stood at the heart of the city. It stood as a large keep with four smaller wings on each adjoining side with five connected towers. Two towers stood on either side of the entrance hall. The outside gave an impression of a fortress designed purely for functionality, but the inside revealed the castle’s true splendor. Silk tapestries, luxurious rugs, and furniture made from the finest wood decorated the inside. Castle Jericho blended extravagance and functionality quite well.

An attendant approached Baron and Taela. “May I be of service to you?” he said.

“We’d like to see the archives,”

“Right this way,” The attendant bowed. He led them through the halls, up a flight of stairs, and stopped in front of a set of double doors. “I’ll wait here for you when you’re done.”

Baron stepped into the archives. Its towering bookshelves ushered him to a standing desk in the center of the room. The desk stood unmanned with an oil lamp and a bell sitting on it. Baron rang the bell.

“O-one moment,” a young woman stepped out from one of the aisles. She fussed with her dress and braided pigtails. “H-how may I h-help you?” she said pushing up her glasses.

Baron leaned over the desk, “I’m looking to get a copy on the records,” he said with a smile, “I’m wanting to get a list of the victims from these brutal murders that have happened lately.”

“W-why?”

Baron gave a shy smile, “My father, Bartholomew Decker, and I heard about these terrible murders,” he said rubbing his neck, “We hate seeing our community suffer, and…since we are prospering, we’re wanting to provide charity to the victim’s families. Times must be hard for them.”

The Librarian smiled warmly, “How sweet. G-give me a few minutes,”

“To think the gods have blessed me by having a kind, and beautiful woman help me with this endeavor,” Baron said taking her hand in his.

Her face turned deep red, and she pulled away, disappearing into the aisles. After a few minutes, the Librarian returned with her arms full of papers.

“I’ll c-copy these names for you,” she said.

“Take your time,” Baron said letting his eyes wander. Baron chuckled silently as he watched the Librarian stick out her tongue as she worked. He found her to be cute, in a shy, naïve way.

“There was a survivor,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Yes, a woman named Meridith,” she said, “Looks like she works at the Black Horn adventurers guild.” She set down the quill and passed the paper, “Here you are mister Decker. I hope these people appreciate your kindness.”

“Please, call me Baron,” he said, “Would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow? As thanks for your help.”

“I-I’d love to.” The Librarian said. She scribbled on a note and passed it to him.

Baron took the papers, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady,” he said with a bow. He stepped out of the archives and handed the list to Taela, “See to it that the victims’ families are paid fifteen gold coins,” he said following the attendant, “Hopefully that much money will keep them quiet.”

“Yes sir,”

They stepped out of the castle with the sun sitting high in the sky. Baron’s carriage pulled up to the entrance.

“Take me to the Black Horn guild,”

The adventurers raucous cries filled the guild hall. Baron smirked at the novices toasting their pints and bragging about their exploits.

“How may I help you?” an attendant smiled at Baron.

“I would like to speak with master Aberny,” Baron said.

“And who should I say is calling?”

“Baron Decker,” He said.

“I’ll let him know right away,” she said, “Please wait here a moment.”

Baron stood off to the side and watched the adventurers. The door opened and three experienced adventurers walked into the hall. The leader, a tall, muscular man wearing full plate mail with an emblem of a sword and scale on a light green scapular, scratched as his honey blond, scraggy beard and ran hand through his unkempt hair. Wrinkles formed around his sharp green eyes. A paladin of Touldan.

Baron gave the man no other thought as his eyes lingered on the second person. The woman stood out amongst the group with her armor, wild gold eyes, and dark skin. The worn cloth wrapped around her chest and leather skirt couldn’t be called armor, but she did wear a metal gauntlet and pauldron on her right arm. She also wore metal greaves. Her purple-black hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and her ears were pierced with multiple earrings. Tribal tattoos decorated her exposed skin that shifted between the colors blue, green, violet, and pink. Not everyday you see a vygaern.

It took effort but Baron turned to the last member. The last man was a novice. His worn, plain brigandine armor needed repair. He wore a black gauntlet with a diamond engraved into the back of the hand on his left arm. His wild, flaming orange hair nearly covered his pale blue eyes that held a youthful gleam.

“Master Solomon, and mistress Schybara, welcome back,” an attendant called out, “I’m glad you made it back from the war.”

“Thank you,” the paladin said, “We’d like to see master Aberny.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Baron moved to approach the group, but a novice pushed past him. The young man wrapped an arm around Schybara’s shoulder, “You’re cute, would you like to join my group for a job?” he said with a smile.

Schybara gave the novice a cold smile then slammed his face into the counter. “Don’t touch me!” she said as the young adventurer tried to stop the blood spilling from his nose.

Solomon knelt and touched the adventurer’s head as the boy was coughing up blood. White light radiated from the paladin’s hand, and the blood stopped.

“Feel better?” Solomon said.

“Yes,”

“Good,” Solomon grabbed the adventurer’s and pulled his head back, “Don’t touch a man’s wife without his consent.” The adventurer swallowed and ran off once Solomon released him.

Baron chuckled, “Good to see you’re still around, master Solomon,” he said holding out his hand.

“It’ll take more than a few undead to kill me,” Solomon shook his hand, “But I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Baron Decker at your service,” he said holding out a hand to Schybara, “May I?” Solomon nodded and Baron took her left hand, kissing her knuckles, “My lady, the tales of your beauty don’t do you justice.”

“Cute,” Schybara said with a smirk, “But you should save your flattery for some doe-eyed maid.”

“You see right through me,” Baron said turning to the third person, “And you are?”

“This is Halligan, my apprentice,” Solomon said.

“A pleasure,” Halligan said taking Baron’s hand.

“Likewise. Is that a trophy from the war?” Baron said pointing to the gauntlet.

“Yessir, took it off a lich-knight,” Halligan said, “Allows someone as illiterate as me to cast spells.”

“Master Aberny will see you know master Solomon.” An attendant approached them.

“May I join you?” Baron stepped up, “I have some information you both need to know.” Solomon nodded.

Baron fell in step with Halligan as they were led up the Aberny’s office. As they stepped inside the office Aberny stood and shook Solomon’s and Schybara’s hands.

“Welcome back, you two,” Aberny said, “And…mister Decker?”

“I don’t mean to intrude,”

“It must be important,” he said, “But I’d like to get an update on the war.”

“It’s not going well,” Solomon said leaning against the fireplace, “We’re barely holding our own against the Wight King. Our victories are costly, and our losses makes his forces stronger.”

“That’s what happens when you fight the undead,” Schybara chuckled.

“The kingdoms waited too long to deal with the issue and now we’re paying the price,” Aberny said with a heavy sigh, “And what about you, mister Decker?”

“First, I’d like to apologize for my father,” Baron said taking a seat, “He shouldn’t have canceled the job. I’ll have five casks of ale brought in as an apology.”

“That’s generous, but I hope there’s more than free booze.”

“There is,” Baron said. After a deep breath, “I’ve been hearing rumors from my men that the Tome of Elithis is in the city.”

Silence.

“Dammit!” Schybara said, “The last thing I want to hear is a second necronomicon showing up.”

“Agreed,” Solomon said scratching his beard, “We already have one avatar of the Dead Gods to deal with, thanks to the Treaties of Bellidrex. A second avatar…I don’t want to imagine it.”

Aberny walked over to the liquor cabinet behind his desk, “How have you come by these rumors?” he said, pouring himself a drink.

“I own the biggest brewery in the city,” Baron said with a weary smile, “I supply every tavern and inn in the city, and there is no better place for gossip than those. And I fear there might be some truth to this rumor, since there’s a serial killer running about.”

“Laegyn’s been murdered, and Gedran’s missing. Could this get any worse?” Aberny said down the drink.

“What?” Schybara said, staring at Aberny in horror.

“Laegyn died more than two months ago, and Gedran…we haven’t seen him in over three weeks. I fear for the worst.”

“A pity, we could have used them,” Solomon said pushing off the wall, “We should start investigating these rumors immediately, just to be safe.” Aberny nodded and the adventurers rushed out of the room.

“Is there something else?” Aberny said, taking a seat.

“I was hoping you could give me Meridith’s address?”

“Why?”

“I feel…responsible for her suffering,” Baron said looking to the ground, “Had I taken the rumors seriously, she might not have witnessed Laegyn’s murder. So, I’d like to apologize and take responsibility.”

Aberny grunted and pulled out a paper from his desk. He scribbled the on the note, “Give her my best regards, will you. I regret firing her.”

“I will,” Baron said with a smile and left the room. He quickly walked through the guild and stepped into his carriage where Taela sat patiently. “One more stop.”

“And that would be?” Taela said.

“A bookshop.”

It was late. The moonlight shone through the glass windows of Bartholomew’s office helping to light the room with the single lamp on the desk. Bartholomew rubbed his temple to ease the migraine that’s plagued him the entire day. A knock came from the door.

“What!” He said, his voice hoarse from cursing all day.

Baron stepped into the room with a smug smile, “You’re going to work yourself to death, pops.”

“What do you want now, boy?”

“I wanted to thank you for letting me borrow this,” he said placing a book on the desk. The ivory queen ant motif gleamed in the light.

Bartholomew slammed his hands on the desk, “How did you…wait?” he picked up the book, “This is fake.”

“Part of the plan,” Baron said, “I’d be willing to tell you over a pint,” he chuckled, “Thanks for buying ten casks by the way.”

Bartholomew laughed, “You’re too smart for your own good, son,”

“And you’re too stubborn, pops.”

“Fine,” Bartholomew said raising from his chair, “you can tell me your plan over a pint of that piss you call booze.”