The Strategist's First Encounter

It had not been long since he had gained title of ‘The Priest’. The highest-ranking member of the Crellan Creed and earned by challenging the previous Priest to a duel. But he was different. For he did not possess the greatest power of necrotic magic or even a body of immense strength. Instead, his greatest asset was his mind. Cruel, calculating, efficient. There is a reason he was given the name, The Strategist.

Within a single year he had managed to convert the chaotic and barbaric organization of necromancers into a streamlined and feared group that had influence in all major settlements across the Crater Lands. His grey eyes were always emotionless. Watching, waiting, thinking. Thinking of new plans of action and intricate schemes to develop the Creed into something more. Then one night, news of a rogue appeared in his ear.

This rogue, going by the name of the ‘Creed Killer’, had been causing problems for the Creed for the past few weeks. The swiftness and brutality against the group had followers concerned. His people were scared of this rogue, travelling in the lands donning a green cloak and murdering his men. But the Strategist was not scared. He did not fear the individual. In fact, the existence of a ‘Creed Killer’ sparked an idea. One that he put into motion in a heartbeat. He demands were simple. “Bring me the Creed Killer. Alive.”

And the Strategist, dressed in red and black, patiently waited for the rogue to come to him. Day by day, going about his routine as normal. Until the inevitable occurred, and the Creed Killer was brought before him. One of his most loyal disciples slammed the door open to his office and began preaching to the noble leader. Boasting about their ability to capture the Creed Killer after tracking him for days. But he was not paying attention to them. Instead, his eyes were focused on the green cloaked man before him. Assessing the bruised and battered man, with scars running down his face and blood shot eyes signaling he was experiencing some sort of pain. Finally, the Strategist rose his hand to quieten the ever-talking disciple. Pulled himself out of his chair and stood directly in front of the killer to address him personally. After another few moments of silence, the Strategist let out a disappointed sigh.

“I did not expect you to be Minauran.” He paused.

“An enchanter perhaps, given the stories of your ability to handle yourself against my necromancers. Or even a sorcerer who prefers close combat, but if that were true. You would have healed your wounds long before they scarred you.” He let his thoughts seep into the room for all to hear.

The killer stayed silent, but the look on his face showed a mixture of surprise and impressed by the Strategist’s deductions. He continued to speak out loud.

“Do you know that despite what people say, Minaurans are just as magical as any magic wielder? Of course, its more internal and difficult to comprehend. But you, and others like you, have a natural resistance to magical encounters. You are difficult to poison. Capable to deflect magical offences given training and unaffected by the majority of charms.” He let his voice rest for the killer to process these words of wisdom.

“And it is that inability to be charmed that makes you little use to me right now.” This one sentence breaks the killer’s neutral expression to give a look of confusion. He waited for the tall, lean man stood before him to explain himself further. But the Strategist merely stayed silent. After what felt like a long enough silence, the disciple asked what they should do with the killer.

The Priest of Crellan knew exactly what he was going to do. But he did not allow anyone else on his plan. Not yet at least. Instead, he spoke the following words.

“The most logical thing to do would be to kill him… But he has made quite an impression on the people of the Craters. Giving them a chance of hope that they can rise up against us. A fact which is simply not true. And if a revolution was to rise, would cost us time, money and souls. I have established the Creed as something more than an ineffective band of dark magic users and I do not intend to have that ruined by one individual… No, he shall be used as an example. An example of what happens to those who dare oppose our authority on these lands.” The Strategist turned and stepped back behind his desk before giving his instructions.

“Return him to the streets. Release him back onto the streets. Give him an hour grace period where our people will leave him be. After that, order all Crellan Creed members in the town to hunt him down. No one rests until he is dead. He may be an effective murderer, but he does not have the ability to take on our entire forces.” He now stares directly into the eyes of the cloaked man before him.

“You will fail. Your failure will be seen by the public. And the ideas of revolution will simply perish. You gave them hope. And you will be the one to take it away.” He finishes his sentence and returns back to inspecting the papers on his desk.

And with that, the Creed Killer is thrown onto the streets of Greystream and given one hour to prepare for a fight to the death against an entire town of necromancers hunting him down. After his departure, the disciple stays in the office becoming a nuisance to the Strategist. They ask, what if the plan fails? What will happen if he manages to escape?

The Strategist does not bother to look up to give his response. “He will not escape. I will not allow it. The Creed Killer will die. And when he does, my plans for him will begin.”

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I thought I would try something a little different. By writing a short story inside the world of Violem. With the characters mentioned so far throughout various articles and giving you a glimpse into their lives. Mostly from solo campaigns I have ran in the past. If you like this sort of thing or want me to continue this short story, then let me know :)