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Chapter 21 by Wyrda Wyrda

"Hello? Anyone there? Sorry I'm late..."

The door opens...

Almost immediately, the great door opens, and you are greeted with the familiar disapproving visage of the doorman. He visibly sneers, not even trying to hide his disdain for you. Turning his nose up at your panting form, he drawls. "Ah yes, the girl from last night. Late as expected!" He trills, and you can see the obvious joy he takes in this fact. Happiness doesn't suit his crotchety face. "I warned the mayor you'd be late you know! Village girls can't ever be trusted to be punctual..." The doorman grins mockingly at you, clearly overjoyed at your tardiness. You glower at him, considering giving him a taste of your holy power, but decide against it. Better not make your first impression even worse. After last night, you have very limited patience for such mockery. One last cruel giggle sounds out, and the doorman disappears behind the grand, oak door for a moment, and it slowly swings open. You are greeted with a level of wealth you have simply never seen before, being the small town girl that you are.

As you step in, you first hear the sound of running water. Thinking yourself insane for a moment, you are gobsmacked to see that there is a fountain directly in front of you, dominating the middle of the hallway. Around it, the floor is paved with tile, that makes a rather loud noise with each of your plated footfalls, drawing an angry look from the doorman. So many paintings are hung on the walls that you speculate that rather than to admire each piece's beauty, each are purely there to take up space. You are not given the chance to inspect much however, as you are quickly ushered down the hall and to the right. "You've kept the mayor waiting long enough!" The doorman says, shoving through another door and into a different room. This one is more familiar, a stone fireplace dominates the left side of the room, the flooring made of the same dark oak as the trees you had seen surrounding the town. Near the fireplace is a table with two chairs, one occupied. You take in a rather thin man, dressed in a rather expensive fur coat. Mink, you hazard a guess. Under that he a red robe, and you can see his fingers glitter with all sorts of rings. Atop his head he wears a rather ridiculous, though apparently fashionable hat with a feather in adorning the right side. His sharp, perceptive eyes are already boring into you, and you feel as if his gaze is undressing you... or searching for your deepest secrets. An auburn beard lines the young noble's cheeks and down to his chin. He appears to be in his late twenties to early thirties. He has one leg crossed over the other, seeming utterly at ease. Krenvich, you assume, wears a smug grin, and he raises a hand to beckon you in. "Welcome, welcome, oh holy Paladin of Lucretia, saviour of Barrowden. Clearly punctuality isn't among your many talents! Please, please, take a seat." The noble calls out, and you suppress the urge to scowl. Reluctantly, you bow, as is custom for a paladin to nobles or powerful men, and take the seat offered, opposite him. The doorman hovers nearby, just behind you. You are unsure if your lateness has angered him. If it did, he doesn't show it.

Visual reference

"Mayor Krenvich, it's an honour to meet you." You say politely, offering him a smile and a respectful nod. He returns the nod in an exaggerated fashion. You are unsure if he's mocking you. On the table you see a rather expensive china set, two cups, both filled with what you assume to be tea. You've never had it, it was far too rare and expensive for a mere village girl to try, but you've read about it. He raises the cup to his red lips and sips, his eyes never leaving you. "It's a honour to meet you too... Eleanor is it?" He says with a smile. You nod. "I heard of your work subduing the savage orcs. Might I congratulate you on your smart thinking. Why, I have the trophy you gave me mounted in my bedroom already! The brick heads I have working for me would have tried a direct attack on their camp, and gotten slaughtered in the process, but you... You used that pretty head of yours!" The mayor says, tapping a forefinger against his temple. You wonder once again if he means veiled mockery. "I could use a girl like you. A problem solver. And it just so happens that I have a problem that needs..." He pauses for dramatic effect that nearly makes you roll your eyes. "...Solving. Once again the town of Barrowden is in peril. Just as you solve one issue, another has reared it's ugly head. A group of bandits, this time." His grin is omnipresent throughout his lengthy speech. You just nod along, sipping delicately on your cup of tea, knowing that his type loves the sound of his own voice more than anything else. "So, what do you think? Can Barrowden once again call on the aid of the noble paladin?" He asks with a sweet smile. "Rest assured, you will be fairly compensated...."

What do you think?

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