A corrupt mayor

You wince suddenly as you limp your way back to your office chair. In the back of the room, a stone fireplace with a chimney magically roars to life as you step into the room. Not from your own power, but from the simple presence of someone being near. The light from the flame dances off the light brown, wooden walls of your office, and with a grunt, you slump down into the chair behind your desk.

Windows with wooden shutters remain glued shut regardless of the screaming winds outside, and all around your tiny room are small lounge chairs, handmade from one of the village's carpenters. The little office has two very simple parts to it. A hallway, leading up to the square area where you do your work on a small, wooden desk. When one enters the room from the hallway, they can find a shelf hung up to the left, a painting of some random mountain on the right, and in the back, above the fireplace, is the flag of one of the village's allies, hung up by one of the previous Mayors.

It's a really simple room really, the most notable piece is your cluttered desk. Large scrolls, books, and and candles basically cover the top of the thing. On the floor next to the desk is a dirty quill, and a container of ink, spilled by you from when you struggled to get to your chair.

Annoyed, you let out a loud sigh and bent down to pick it up, trying desperately to ignore the jolts of pain that lit up in your back when you tried to move.

You were a mayor, and a horrible one at that. It wasn't because you were a bad leader, or cruel to your people, it was just that you were evil. It was your entire purpose. You were a quest giver for a short storyline. A sub-plot that the heroes didn't really care about. Why would they? They were heroes, after all!

Your entire life was one play after the other. A hero would show up, accept your quest, and the village would get raided. The hero would 'valiantly' go out to fight with all the odds stacked into his or her favor, and leave the mayoral house empty. Then, while the Hero was outside dousing fires, the monsters would get into your home. The raid always ended the same, with you struggling to keep a monster, or rather, a werewolf off of you while the others stole the thing most precious to you and waited for the hero to save you...or leave the area if they got too bored.

When the hero got back and killed the werewolf on you, you were to ask for his, or her, help again when you 'discover' that the pack of wolves have kidnapped your daughter. A giddy blonde bimbo at twenty-one years of age, with the sole purpose of getting kidnapped, saved, and giving great thank-you sex to her rescuer, usually five feet away from you while you wait for the hero to turn in their quest.

The quest ends with them declaring you corrupt and accusing you of paying the werewolves to attack the town so you and the group could collect on the loot. A simple scene plays through with the village's guards coming in and dragging you off to an impossibly small cell, where your back problems get ever worse. You possibly have the biggest shit job in the game. You rarely get killed, except by heroes who get ridiculous mad at a few of the bugs or glitches in your area. Instead, you get tortured, hurt by the wolves you hire, locked in a cramped prison, and are to watch while your own daughter is defil- 'graced with the company of heroes.'

You were three very simple pieces of clothing, a ridiculous black and red jacket that clearly states you are 'this melodrama's bad guy', a pair of black pants, and a matching pair of black boots. On top of that you look evil. Black hair, sharp eyebrows, pointy jaw, brown eyes, and a nice curly mustache. The last one you actually happen to be proud of. Who wouldn't be?

The loud fanfare of another hero approaching makes you sit up in your chair more. It's almost time for your part. As quickly as you can, you yank open a scroll and look at your stats.

/===========================================================================================\

...

Race: Human

Class: Noble Bard

Level: 1

HP: 9/10

MP: 1/1

Melee Damage: 0

Magic Damage: 0

RACE ABILITIES-

CLASS ABILITIES-

Speeches - You have the ability to speak into the hearts of your people and inspire them.

Money, money, money - You can harness the power of your voice and your greed to hire a band of mercenaries. [6/6 raiders have been hired.]

SPECIAL ABILITIES

The black book - You have access to the knowledge of what your people own, how much money they make, and their exact location. [30/30 Villagers are accounted for and are living.]

Did you just feel something? - You can exert your will to shove someone back. [Damage done = Magic * Level. Distance = Level * 5]

\===========================================================================================/

You close the scroll and look up in time to see the woman who enters, her red hair bouncing off her shoulders as she walks in.