I’m the Necromancer (A boredom-mancer, ruler of mind-death)

The Fortress Town Corruption situation grew in the telling, despite the crown’s efforts to give as clear an account as what happened, aided by the rescued hostages found at the scene of the crime, and rambling claims of so-called “Astralists”.

Nonetheless, that burst of violet light was hard to miss, and in a time when the grasp of the Kingdom was not quite what it used to be, the gossip that passed from village to village quickly changed to suit the storyteller, who sought the most gasps and the most coin per session.

By Akalt Town, only the third settlement from ground zero, the tale was that the Menace had somehow nested its essence underground and emerged with a heinous army like none had ever seen. The enemy of all living things this time had chosen to separate into a trio of monsters – a grand beast of stone and bone, whose body writhed with the dead, a being made of blood whose arms could cut through steel, and, as the mores of storytelling were wont to do, a well-proportioned woman whose abilities were largely forgotten in favor of describing the texture of her skin, the styling of her hair, and the color of her lips.

Naturally, the enemy was both undefeatable yet conveniently unable to overcome Captain Talwen’s crack troops, but now there was unease in the air, as that naturally only meant the countryside was filled to the brim with beasties and bogeys.

Paul sat at a bar counter, sighed, and asked for another beer, wondering if perhaps he could beat Trudy’s stupor-inducing record while he was forced to overhear this.

The crowd in the corner of the tavern was ooh-ing and aah-ing at the yarn a supposed survivor of the event was claiming occurred precisely as he said. Paul supposed even if he had worked at the demolition site, he would have had the story passed down by others, if he hadn’t just made it up entirely himself.

“And then, the Archhag swung her hips!”

“How hard!?”

“The crack of thunder could be heard from them!”

“YES!”

Paul bit into his mug.

There was some good to come from this, at least – Paul, for now, was incognito, despite their disastrous reveal, and they were assuming they were a single group. They weren’t wrong, but their assumptions would be off.

Perhaps it was because a single mass of Malevolence had crushed them, or perhaps there was more to their bodies that had yet to be awoken – but they certainly were together in spirit, if not in body.

As Paul nursed the fresh beer, he felt Trudy’s consciousness approach his and grab a snapshot of his experiences in an instant.

(I’m still the “sexy one”, huh,) he felt the chuff in return.

(I know, right?) Bao’s presence positively beamed, even through empty air. (I had my massive pecs out for all to see!)

Paul had to duck his head to keep his laugh out of sight, by his lonesome as he was.

Being a group was too dangerous, and when they had fled to the forest outside Fortress Town once more, Paul offered his suggestion.

“Let’s separate and lay low for a while.”

It had been a stroke of luck that their increased powers included more ways to stay in touch. Trudy and Bao would always be close by, and as annoying as they could be at times, even Paul knew that it was foolish to assume he could do without them. Tough guys tried to disprove the notion “no man is an island”, and he was anything but tough.

“How’s things?” Paul murmured under his breath before taking another long pull from his carved mug.

(Doing my best. I think I’m safe right now.) Trudy answered.

(Actually found someone willing to take me on a boat. I’ve actually got a job!) Bao merrily supplied.

“Lucky you,” Paul snorted. “I suppose I should find job postings for evil overlords here. Maybe they have Malevolence janitors here, too.”

(Still going to hunt for more Malevolence?) Trudy’s voice rang through, a mixture of curiosity and some concern.

“Call it due diligence. We still feel it wherever we go, and it’s bad news to trust that stuff with anyone but us. We seem to be the only ones who wake up fine after taking the stuff, and we’re not interested in destroying the world.”

(Well, I’m not,) Bao retorted. (You think we’ll actually become super-evil eventually?)

“One step at a time,” Paul answered. “If we start getting weird, we’ll put the plan on pause and figure out the next step. For now, I think I’ll keep wandering this area, figure it out. You guys stay safe.”

The fantastical conference call faded away, and Paul shook his head once more, amazed at how some things seemed eternal. Nodding at the bartender for another refill, the itinerant non-villain then spoke to the thickly mustached man.

“I suppose you’d know if there’s any free-floating jobs for people like me?”

“And what sort of person are you?”, the barman challenged. Perhaps he had met too many people in his time asking the same question.

Paul decided to lean into his pitifulness. “Perpetually down on his luck, at least. I’d like to travel around and get a lay of the land, though, but alas, my purse weeps…”

That got him a quirked eyebrow from the bartender in return. “You know, people who ask for jobs on the move tend to either be fugitives or criminals planning their getaways.”

“Come on, maybe a courier job, or something?” Paul suggested disarmingly. He did recall plenty of times he went on business trips or, barring that, long train rides to deliver packages to seniors the next city over. Thankless work that at least came with a snack budget and sights besides cubicles.

“Courier work?” The bartender laughed. “What, you’re gonna walk from town to town with the way things are? Most people can barely take a few steps outside before getting waylaid by everything.”

The mood seemed to sour around Paul, and he wondered if he had made a mistake. Nearby, one of the patrons spat in distaste. “Feel like we’re hemmed in by bandits and monsters all the time now.”

Paul could feel the upwelling of wild ideas in an instant – the same old birdcall of supply and demand – and he did what he could to keep it quashed for a while, so he could keep his eyes on the present.

“You say I can’t walk, but you also didn’t say moving between towns around here was impossible,” the gray-haired transient pointed out, getting a defeated shrug in return. “Hell, I made my way here by pure luck after all. So there must be something I can do.”

The bartender didn’t answer right away, but he did unconsciously flick his eyes to the side, his mental associations pointing Paul to someone else who had an answer.

It was apparently enough of a cue for a second figure to drop heavily onto the stool next to him, and he turned to look and nearly fell over, rearing back from the grinning wrinkled face. The elderly woman still seemed to be in good enough shape not to be bowed over by the heavy leather outdoor clothing she was swathed in, and instead seemed to be eager, with the way the battered old horse ears poked straight out of her crumpled gray hair, and the tail swished eagerly.

“How good a fighter are you?” The old woman interrogated him immediately. “Can you hold reins? Do inventory? Sit on a bench for hours doing nothing?”

Well, this was one hell of an interview. For a second, Paul was afraid of humouring this new intruder too much. In the end, however, he still had enough pride that he wanted to tackle the attempt to intimidate him head-on.

With a sip of his mug, he made a show of considering, before firing back his answers just as quick. “...I don’t know, I can learn, very definitely, I have also been bored to death, so I can do that last one easily.”

That got a grin out of the old woman, who slammed a palm into his back, and Paul wondered if it was only because of his new constitution that she didn’t pitch him over the bar counter from the force.

“Well, if you’re wanting to get paid during a tour of the area, Granny Panza is here for you!” the horse-syhee cheered. “I always need manpower for my work!”

The bartender leaned in to explicate. “Granny here runs one of the few carriages between all the towns on the fringes of Forness. Safest way to move people and goods.”

That gave Paul pause. “By yourself, surrounded by all the evils of the world, according to everyone else.”

Elderly Panza gave a snicker without care. “I’ve known all the best ways around the outskirts long before the Menace arrived, and I still know how to get around without getting into trouble… and besides, if I did, I’m far from helpless!”

“So what do you need me for, then?”

“Ha, you’re the one needing me! You want a way around the towns, then I’ll take you. And judging by your situation, you can’t pay in coin, so you’ll have to put your brains and brawn to work for me! Otherwise, I doubt you’ll get around here on foot.”

“...I want a contract confirming responsibilities and compensation.”

That got a loud laugh out of the woman, who slapped Paul again. “Oh, you’re so lost and out of place, boy!”

The incognito skeleton lord merely sniffed in derision, in return, “Hey, when I got nothing else, I can trust ink on paper. Now, do you want someone else to do inventory for you or do you not, Granny?”

Panza's grin got a bit sharper as the two all but circled each other in their minds, getting a feel for what they were getting into. Eventually, she simply shouted to the rest of the tavern.

“Hey, everyone, let’s have good news where we can! I’m gonna celebrate my new employee! Everyone gets a round on me!”

In an instant, the watering hole’s mood flipped. What was once a place soured by the memory of their siege turned into a party as men and women crowded around for orders of beer, mead, and whiskey.

As Paul got pressed against the bar by two burly men shouting for the “good stuff”, he rolled his eyes.

Why was he always falling in with such extreme people?