The Midnight Watch

*OOC Note - unless you have been told IC, you would be unaware of any of the details listed within this post.*

Chapter 1: Eating a slice of humble pie

Graceful loser. Those are two words that had never entered Jarvis' vocabulary, and it certainly showed. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist as the mayoral election results were read out. It was a crushing defeat for him and his hopes. Sure, he'd beaten the rest of the pack barring Isaac Keres, but in elections as in life... there's no prize for second place. Some from the crowd urged him to fight on; but his rage had already gotten the better of him. How could he lose to that snot-nosed city slicker? Were people so stupid they'd vote for their betters? After all that gold he'd offered them too... ungrateful bastards. These thoughts rushed through his mind as he launched into an explosive rant on-stage melt down, denouncing Isaac Keres, taxes, and everyone else who was unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity. The noise of the crowd and the announcements melted into a low buzz in his ears as he stormed away from the stage, throwing open the door to the smithy and launching a table full of armour onto the floor in a rage. The armour fell to the ground with a clatter of steel as his rage slowly subsided, and he consigned himself to slumping into his chair, awaiting his fate...

It didn't take long to materialise. The local militia goons barged in, ready to shake him down as he full well knew they would. The militia Captain spoke with a mixture of arrogance and menace, backed up by his deputy "you know how it works smith, if you'd have won I'd be visiting the lawyer right now." True enough, but that didn't help the situation for Jarvis right now. All he could do was listen up and throw in an occasional word of defiance. The message was simple - pay up and play ball, renounce any claims and don't cause any trouble. And if that wasn't to Jarvis' liking, well... accidents can always happen, especially in a dangerous place like Blackwell, and especially to flamable smithy shops. The local muscle made their exit, and Jarvis let out a sigh of relief. He'd wanted to become mayor - instead he'd become an outlaw. Funny how life works, ain't it?

The next few days were spent mostly hauled up in the blacksmith shop. Door double bolted, occasionally peering out onto the porch to see if anyone was there. The few times he ventured out weren't exactly good for the nerves. As he sat drinking in the Midnight Watch, a figure appeared. "I'm looking for Miller.." he announced, causing Jarvis to turn. "Eh, well ye found him lad.." Jarvis replied, as his hand inched towards his sword hilt. "Your life is forefit!" roared the stranger, Jarvis' eyes widening in response, hand clasping the pommel of his sword, only stopped by a sudden chuckle from the would-be assassin. "Only joking! I need some armour made, though..." Heart still pounding, Jarvis mopped a bead of sweat from his brow. "Oh, aye.. of course." This was certainly no way for him to live; expecting an assassin's blade on every stroll around town and every visit to the tavern. With a heavy sigh, it dawned on Jarvis... he was going to have to swallow his pride, and fix this situation the only way he knew how; with a heavy helping of coin.

Chapter 2: Gold heals all wounds

As he made his way towards the mayor's office, he was apprehensive. This was, after all, a man he'd spent the last few weeks denouncing, haranguing, and generally insulting. Not to mention this impromptu meeting he had set up with Isaac would also be the perfect opportunity to have Jarvis "disappear." Still, this was his only shot. He'd either come out with what he wanted, or he'd come out in a coffin. The conversation was tense:

Yet he found the mayor surprisingly amenable to his idea. It was a simple one. Purchase land, and construct a new factory the likes of which Blackwell had never seen. It seemed that Jarvis' personal credo of gold above all else wasn't exactly all too uncommon in this town. A few gold coins go a long way to greasing the wheels around these parts. As he eventually left the mayor's office clutching his new deed close to his chest, it seemed the immediate problem of being murdered in his sleep had been solved, at least if the mayor was as forgive and forget as he claimed to be. Not only had Jarvis acquired the land and the go ahead, he'd acquired and erstwhile investor. Having secured back, only a small matter remained. All he had to do was construct the largest building Blackwell had seen in a generation in zombie infested lands, with no immediate labour force. It seemed easy enough.

The first order of business was to get supplies in. All Jarvis had right now was a pile of dirt and a few over priced blades of grass. Without materials, this whole scheme was going nowhere. He was a fairly competent lumberjack and an expert mason, but even with his legendary work ethic this was too much for one man to take on alone. He was going to need allies in the struggle to come...

TO BE CONTINUED....

The impending apocalypse and end of civilization as we know it may be an impediment to business for many. For Jarvis, it simply reinforced an almost religious zeal that while Avatar taketh with one hand, he giveth with the other. Residents of Blackwell may have noticed an ever more feverish pace to his activities: hurrying to and from the mountains with hardly as much as a hello, copious armfuls of ore in tow. Frustrated by the dwindling deposits of the Blackwell mines, Jarvis had headed further and yet further still into the wild and mountainous regions of Blackwell, risking peril at every turn. Initial prospecting had been discouraging, yet he persevered ever onwards.

As rain poured down on another seemingly uneventful day of hard toil, a glimmer shone out like the absent sun on this gloomy day. His pickaxe dug further into the mountain side, gold dust sprinkling onto the damp ground. He blinked questioning himself.... was this a fatigue induced mirage? He quickly redoubled his efforts, extracting more of the substance to be certain.

"GOLD! Tha'r be GOLD in these hills!" he cried out, in jubilation, before glancing around furtively. He greedily scooped up his find, rushing to the forge. This would have to be a closely guarded secret... yet, minerals alone wouldn't be enough.

Soon posters started appearing triumphantly around Blackwell, stating:

"ADVENTURERS, MILITIAMEN AND PRIVATE CITIZENS ALIKE -

PUT MORE THAN HIDE BETWEEN YOU AND THE UNDEAD.

MILLER'S MINECRAFT IS NOW STOCKING A WIDE ARRAY OF SPLENDID AND CURIOUS METALS, GUARENTEED TO SAFEGUARD YOUR LIFE AND YOUR FORTUNE. SETTLE FOR NO LESS THAN THE BEST. FAIR GOODS AT FAIR PRICES"

Miller's hunt for true wealth and power however, had just begun...

Hear ye, hear ye!

In need of metalworks of any description? Tools, arms, and armour? Come and visit the finest blacksmithy this side of Minoc!

Pickaxes from as low as ten gold coins a piece, while standard weapons are a mere twenty coins! More intricate weapons and armour made on a case by case basis, always at fair prices!

A true warrior needs sturdy steel protecting him, so don't settle for leather! Visit Miller's Minecraft today!

*signed in a hurried scrawl*

Jarvis Miller

*an engraved image of the workshop is attached to the flyer, stating its location opposite the tavern*