There were a couple of things that did not mix in Nikola's overview. One of them was a tax collector who had to deal with past trauma over a lollipop.
His life was now really something if he had to deal with such things. But he still went to the tax collector's house with Marcel Ember, the necromancer who had tied him up and gagged him in record time, by his side.
Nikola was about one more pat on the cheek away from taking said man to the nearest inn and breaking a bed.
It wasn't just the fact that he had not done it in a very long time, but also the mixed signals the necromancer was sending him.
There was no way to imagine all the lovely chuckles, the winks, and the way the man flipped his hair his way, showing off his pale and gorgeous neck from time to time.
If a vampire had gotten a hold of Marcel, he would have worshipped that neck without an end.
But they were not in this house just so Nikola could admire Marcel in all his red-haired beauty.
They were trying to go through the traps in the house, to get to a tax collector who may or may not be able to help a very mean librarian pass on.
"The one thing I don't get," Nikola said, as he looked at the moving headsman's axe which was making an arch before them. "Is where did he get the permit to even make such a house."
"Oh, all tax collectors have the right to put traps in their houses. Their job is taxing, you know?" Marcel asked, as he aimed with a throwing dagger. He took a deep breath, then threw the dagger at the moving blade.
The axe fell down like an overripe pear.
Nikola felt better.
"Do you think he gave a bit extra to make himself some surveillance runes?" The brunette asked, as he threw a pebble at a suspicious spot on the floor.
Something that looked like a werewolf jumped out of it, looked at them, and then licked its maw.
"I think," Marcel said, as he summoned some necromantic mana into his hands. "That if he has not, we will be here for a very long time."
He let loose a ball of necromantic mana at the werewolf. The creature dodged to the side, looked at where the fireball had made a hole in the wall, and then proceeded to go back down under its pressure plate.
There was soon a "Do Not Disturb" sign floating over it.
"At least the werewolf was reasonable," Marcel nodded his approval, as he looked around. "And I think that we can finally go up the stairs!"
Nikola looked at the stairs, from where cold and black miasma was spreading their way.
"Why don't we just call him here?" He didn't know exactly what eldritch horror was guarding the stairs, but he didn't want to find out, either.
"Sir! Sir Timothy Stoneheart! Please, we just want to talk about a librarian who needs your help moving on!" Nikola yelled as the black and cold thing continued to make its descent down the stairs.
"What are the chances," Nikola began, as he backed away and hid behind Marcel. "That this thing will dissolve us?"
Marcel sighed.
"It won't dissolve us. It will put us to sleep and feed off our dreams and nightmares. This is just a Shade." The necromancer made another fireball at his fingertips.
The shade chose the Do Not Disturb way to solve this little pickle.
"There, now we can go up!" Marcel all but sprinted up the stairs. Nikola followed him like a shadow, for he knew that the only thing the werewolf and the shade needed to get the green light to eat him was Marcel's absence.
When they reached the top of the stairs, there were a couple of doors before them.
Nikola knocked on the one with the nameplate "Stoneheart." Which was something he hoped was not the man's original last name.
Because if it were, then the odds were stacked against him from the get-go.
They heard someone fall off a bed, then a young man opened the door.
"Yes?" He asked, as he looked first at Marcel, who had a ball of necromantic mana in his hand, and then at Nikola, who was looking at him with wide eyes.
"We come in peace." Nikola did a slight nod with his head, showing off the fact that he had nothing in his hands. "And we would like to speak about a certain librarian."
"I don't read books. I read tax ledgers," the man said, but he still stepped to the side to let them in.
The walls were filled with pictures, maps, and even tax forms.
This was a man who took everything seriously, or so Nikola thought.
"The librarian, my good man," Marcel began in that melodic voice of his that did wonders to Nikola's ears and made his pants tight at the worst moments. "Stole a lollipop from you way back when. Now he is dead and headed to hell. May we please have your forgiveness for the poor creature, so there can be a new librarian hired for the Mirstone Library?"
The man nodded, then took out a form.
"I remember the accident," which, considering the librarian was still in the red for doing, was to be expected. "A lollipop back then cost 1 silver coin. The criminal never, ever, gave it back. Now, the tax rate on sweets has risen in recent times. Let me just calculate everything, ok?"
Marcel nodded, and Nikola blinked when he saw a calculator.
Soon, there was a very big number on a very small screen.
"I doubt that even the king can pay that much," Nikola had to admit.
No wonder the ghost was headed to hell.
That one lollipop theft had been enough to put the entire country into debt!
"We will find a solution," Marcel asked, his voice sweet as cotton candy.
Nikola had to resist the urge to whimper.
Why did the Lich have to be so perfect?