Blood Elf Monarch

Caerleon Town

Number of residents: 5213

Guards: 193

Adventurers: 82

Average daily visitors: 39

Main occupation: Miner

This was the data that Uriel yapped endlessly into his ear as they walked through the town. The half elf quickly explained to him the meaning of these numbers.

In regards to the population, it could be said that the town had the least amount of residents in comparison to the 30 other Arcadian towns. For instance, Erantell, which was also a border town, had three times the population of Caerleon. 

In analyzing these statistics, Uriel admitted that he was quite shocked. This was because just a few weeks ago, the town had almost 10,000 residents and over 500 guards. 

It was evident that the numbers had depleted considerably. It appeared that the recent attack by the Barbarians heavily affected them. Aside from those who lost their lives, many of the citizens decided to migrate to the north.

On this particular day, as requested, Commander Gafez herded all the residents together, instructing them to gather at the town center. 

The situation was more troublesome than they thought. Approaching the town center, much commotion had already begun to erupt in the streets.

Densely packed all around them, Tristan could see the faces of the townspeople seething with hatred. Curses and insults of all kinds were spewed like poison at their group. Tristan flinched as he dodged a piece of rotten fruit that was aimed at his face. 

"What the hell is happening?!" Seth exclaimed. He was obviously very agitated; he wasn't exactly expecting a warm welcome, but this was definitely not what he expected to happen.

The shouting was only amplified when they realized a female orc was walking among them. Their words became more vulgar, their tones more aggressive. Even groups of children had begun to join in, flinging spoiled produce while taunting them cruelly.

While Uriel stayed completely silent, his eyes did the talking for him. He glanced at Tristan with a pompous look that seemed to say, "I told you so."

Tristan didn't bother to react against the anger and the jeering; after all, he was used to these things. But deep inside, he still cursed the King for giving him such a task.

After pushing past the throng of angry citizens, the group was finally able to reach the town center. Including the guards, around 3000 of the town's citizens gathered for the sudden assembly. 

The other half who did not come were still hard at work, backs bent towards the beating sun as they farmed and mined in other sites. At the very least, though, they had their relatives to represent them and their households. Immediately, the yelling began. Most of the townspeople took this as an opportunity to voice their grievances to the new 'person in charge'. Various shouted demands and complaints overlapped one another. 

As Tristan towered over them on the raised stage, seeing their impoverished faces and run-down appearances huddled together in one place felt somewhat jarring to him. He was rather taken aback at how much worse they looked in contrast to the Erantell citizens. Their clothes were evidently more worn, and their shriveled bodies seemed to be malnourished and weak.

"Lord Tristan, they've all arrived. Are you prepared to address them now?" Asked Gafez, breaking his train of thought. 

"Yes. But, Uriel, you will need to introduce me first."

This was Uriel's first critical task. The reason why Tristan needed to kidnap him in the first place.

As the current mayor of Erantell, Uriel's introduction would contribute greatly to his credibility, something he greatly needed since he was technically a nobody.

Tristan even asked Uriel to say some extra words and tell a few anecdotes to boost his image, such as that he singlehandedly stopped ten thousand barbarians, or how he was favored by the King himself.

The murmurs of displeasure and suspicion that had rippled through the crowd before now dissolved into hums of approval. It seemed that they were impressed; these words went a long way to improve the residents' perception of their new mayor. Speaking of which, it was Tristan's turn next. He walked towards the podium and cleared his throat. His voice boomed over the hordes of townspeople below him, who were now listening intently. 

"Citizens of Caerleon, I am Tristan, your new Mayor. I have heard your pleas! Rest assured, now that I am here all your problems will be my problems, and I will see to it that they are solved within the coming month! You have my promise!"

That was it. Just one sentence and Tristan descended from the podium. Uriel was at a loss for words. He had just spent half an hour reciting his speech, emphasizing the various triumphs the new mayor had accomplished, while Tristan himself only spoke for about a minute.

But what had surprised him even more was the fact that the crowd had broken out in a thunderous applause, smiles emerging on their weather-beaten faces. Smiles of hope.

Uriel had been a mayor for 12 years; he had seen men in positions of power come and go. But for the first time in quite a while, he was impressed. It was a rare gift to gain popularity so easily among the people. Despite his callous nature, this elf really did have a talent with the masses.

When Tristan walked back to the group, Gafez seemed indifferent and provided no comment. His arms were crossed and his expression remained stoic. Serene, however, was frowning. 

"How could you make such a promise!" She exclaimed, hands on her hips. 

"Because... I can." Tristan answer with a wicked smile.

Truthfully Tristan had no confidence that he was able to keep this promise; in fact, he didn't even know what their problems were. He just knew that under such desolate conditions, what these people needed first was hope. 

The first impression was what really mattered. He needed to first convince them that he was the man for the job. Whether or not he would actually be able to do it was a problem for later. 

This was basically the playbook of all the politicians in America and most part of the world.

Thanks to Uriel's generous retellings of all his good qualities and achievements, he had already succeeded in this first step. What he needed to accomplish next was an implementation of order and control.

When he returned to the palace-like Townhall, a group of people approached him

"Lord Tristan!" Exclaimed a group of voices in unison. 

A group of citizens wearing clean and luxurious clothes rushed forward to greet him.