A Game of Kingmaker

Game Master Wandering Wastrel

"I choose nudity. I will always choose nudity!" Raquel declares boldly. "Are you officially challenging me, sir?"

Glancing over as the others debate the merits of wrestling in the nude, Nariel raises her left brow with a smirk and the shake of her head. Leaning in towards Sasha with a light grin, Nariel responds "I think I will have to pass on that particular wager Sasha; only a fool wishing to part with their money would bet against Raquel in a nude wrestling match."

After sending a knowing wink towards Raquel, Nariel clears her throat before continuing "Ahem! Anyway, back to the business at hand. I will speak to Aivar about starting construction on a proper manor. I should think he will not be opposed." Rolling up the scroll and putting it away, Nariel added "Now, if you will excuse me... I really could use a bath." That was after all, why Nariel was keen to make the Inn her first stop before Karl and Koster had levied their particular grievance against them.

At the Inn of the Swooping Shrike

The Foreman looks relieved at the group's understanding of the shared concerns. "So, now that's over, I'm sure Karl can agree to accommodate you here while your new dwelling is constructed." He shoots the innkeeper a piercing look. "Right, Karl?"

The burly Rostlander looks as though he's about to protest, but thinks better of it. Point made, he nods and stalks away to do something that doesn't involve having to talk to you any more.

Koster puts his hat back on, doffs it again, gives you a bow and excuses himself. "I have to get back to work. You know where to find me."

At Wladimir's Smithy

The mountain-like man's eyes widen as Aivar mentions the treasures he has found. "Mithral?! You're in luck, My Lord - I trained with one of the few dwarf smiths left in Brevoy after the Vanishing shuttered their towns. Mean old bastard, he was, never happy, but I learned everything I know from him... except how to actually run a smithy."

He wipes his hand on his charred and blackened leather apron, before running it through his hair. "We got off on the wrong foot, My Lord, and I'm sorry." He waves his hand through the air. "But there's so much about the job that's nothing to with the job! But that's my problem, not yours. Let's take a look at what you have, shall we?"

To Raquel:

Having had several glasses of whatever was put in front of him already, Tristan makes a grand gesture and bows from his seat. "Pending the official creation of the title we shall duel over, and permission from his Lordness Aivar the Pungent for the contest, I shall meet you upon whatever field and in whatever style you choose!"

The singer goes to drain his goblet to punctuate his statement, but finds it empty. "Another of whatever that was, good man!" he says to Karl.

Raquel laughs and points to her companions and the other bar patrons. "Ha! You all heard him! You are official witnesses to a formal challenge! In Cayden's name, this is happening!"

She refills her own mug and clinks it against Tristan's glass, downing its contents to seal the deal. "Obviously, I name Arianna as my second!"

She refills and drains her mug one more time for good measure. "Alright, I'm going to go find His Stinkiness now to get the ball rolling." The cleric stumbles slightly as she makes her way to the forge where Aivar is likely to be.

Arianna was doing her best to be as quiet and unobstrusive as she could as soon as they started talking about being naked, filling her head with thoughts of chemical formulae, but was viciously yanked back to reality by Raquel saying her name. "What, I--oh God damn it, I am so not dignifying this--and also I don't think that all of us living under one roof is entirely appropriate oh God damn it there she goes."

Despite her protests Arianna still goes to make sure Raquel doesn't hurt herself.

"So. Not even lunchtime, and you're drinking? Not merely drinking, but inebriated; and not merely inebriated, but planning some further public display of... Shelyn-knows-what debauchery. What a fine example you are setting our townsfolk."

Standing in the doorway, wielding sarcasm as one might a razor-sharp weapon, is Karinna. She looks resplendent as ever, in a dress that might not be out of place in a ballroom, although this season's look apparently includes icy rage.

"I have just got back from a tour of the outlying farms, collecting taxes, and let me tell you in the cashless barter system we currently have that calculating what people owe is a real challenge, when I heard you had returned. 'Oh, how fortuitous,' I thought, 'I can share my calculations with the Lady Nariel and see what she thinks,' and I find - this." She gives a withering glare.

"I have spent the last month keeping this place going. I have had to keep records of our incomings and outgoings, I have had to deal with seneschals from Restov collecting what they are owed, I have had to assess the revenues we are owed... I have tramped over muddy fields so much, I have had to raise the hemlines on my dresses!" She clearly doesn't see this as a laughing matter.

"By Shelyn's Grace, YOU may not care for your reputations, but mine is all I have. If this is what I can expect to be associated with, I will have to reconsider my options. Now I suggest that you, Master Aislin, go and sober up, while you... Ugh, I expect nothing less from a Caydenite but if you must get drunk before noon, you could at least have the decency to do so in private."

"Now, perhaps one of you could tell me where to find His Lordship? I have some matters to discuss with him. I assume - I HOPE - that he, at least, has not forgotten his manners, his dignity, or his role."

Turning away from you, she addresses the innkeeper. "Goodman Karl, please be so good as to let me have their tab and I will offset it against what you owe."

Karl goes red and offers the noblewoman his best bow. "Of-of course, Milady. Just as you say."

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey, Karinna... Lady Medvyed..." Raquel says, holding her hands up. She grins at the blonde woman. "You're doing great! We know the mark is in excellent hands in our absence! Keep up the outstanding work!"

The cleric claps the treasurer on the shoulder, then leans closer to whisper to her. "I have to say, I'm loving the altered dress! You've got great calves! Have you thought about lowering the neckline to complement the higher hemline? Let the girls breathe a bit!"

Raquel straightens up again. "Now then, Arianna and I were just on our way to find the graf to discuss a matter of great import! I think he went to the smithy to polish his armor, if you know what I mean. You're welcome to follow along with us if you'd like!"

Glorious. A warm bath was exactly what Nariel had needed after time out in the wilderness. Having washed her hair and soaked for a time, Nariel dressed and headed back town to the barroom. In the time she had retired to her room, a fair bit of drinking had taken place. She had heard the room grow ever more raucous while she had been soaking in the tub. She had expected to find more merriment, though sight of Karinna was a surprise.

Arriving in the room and appearing a new elf, Nariel smiled broadly "Oh splendid, Lady Karinna you are here. My next stop was to come and see you, as Foreman Koster here has informed us that... that..." trailing off a moment, Nariel glanced about the room and observed the scene taking place;

Tristan and Raquel were drunk. Check.
Arianna and Foreman Koster are looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. Check.
Lady Medyved appears furious about something. Check.
Nariel is clueless. Check.

Wide eyed, Nariel halted her approach "Umm, have I missed something while I was upstairs?"

Time to get Aivar? Check, and check.

Aivar accepts the apology and lets the man know by not bringing the topic up again. It seems the smith simply needed to vent his bellows and, with him being a smith and all, the result was rather fiery and intense. Plus, you're an enormous softie. Other lords would've had him dragged to the town square and publicly beaten.

"Yes, let us have a look at the things that truly matter." Romas, his loyal steed, is currently guarding the mithral and adamantine treasures and Aivar guides the smith outside so that they can bring in the weapons and armor inside for closer inspection. "I wonder just how old they are. The place we've found them in ... well, suffice to say, rust had claimed most of the weapons and armor we came across, but not these."

I imagine 'this' is about to be interrupted by 'them' ;)

Tristan takes Karinna's tirade in stride, a smile growing a bit on his face as she nears the finish. "My dear Lady Karinna," he says as he rises and performs a flawless bow, despite having had... however much it was he'd had to drink.

"I personally thank you for all the toil you have undertaken, and I'm sure Lord Aivar will do the same. We are merely celebrating returning safely to the town you have so ably kept standing in our absence. There are still dangers in the hills, and they must be seen to. Clouds of angry bats, and... still worse things. But they'll all give way before the growing Mark!"

Tristan stops himself before blurting out 'zombie dwarves.' No sense in alarming the commonfolk.

"And my, my. We can't have you traisping through muddy fields. Don't we have a horse for you? And are you properly escorted? I shall speak to the Graf..."

Diplomacy(We're Working Hard to, Just not right this second!): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (8) + 14 = 22

Diplomacy(Heraldric Reroll): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (9) + 14 = 23

Sigh, I guess I'll take +1 better. Smoothing things over with Karinna and voicing concern for the things that concern her - image, propriety, proper attention to station, etc.

Sasha only watches the argument unfold, taking a slow draw from her wine glass and offering exaggerated glances back and forth between her companions and Karinna. Seeing that Raquel and Tristian's good nature and Nariel's responsibility would likely cool Karinna off, she slugs down the rest of the wine and stands.

"I've got some things to check up on," she offers everybody and nobody, and strides out the door.

WW, I'm going to send you message about "spymaster" things.

At the Inn of the Swooping Shrike

Karinna gives Raquel an icy stare: "I think you've got so used to escaping the consequences of your actions, you assume you're always going to be able to. What will happen when the consequences of what you do fall on someone else, I wonder?"

She softens slightly as she looks at Tristan: "I thank you for your concern, but I don't travel alone. General Garess was with me. And we travel as much as possible on horseback, but farmers can get very stroppy if you ride roughshod over their new-planted fields."

She brightens as Nariel makes her appearance. "Ah, I am glad you are returned. I have some papers that would definitely benefit from your keen mind - perhaps we can find a room and get some work done?"

At the Smithy

Other lords don't follow Shelyn ;)

Wladimir's eyes widen like soup-plates as he looks at your trove. "Torag's Anvil! That... my goodness, yes." He spends several minutes minutely inspecting everything. "Well, I can definitely say that I don't recognise the forge-markings, which makes them older than any dwarf smith currently living."

He gently lays the armour out piece by piece, before giving Aivar a quick look up and down. "OK, I've got a rough measure of you for right now - it'll take us a few goes to get it properly fitted, say about a week? Come by first thing each morning and we'll do it then. It'll cost six hundred in gold - if you've got that handy now, it would save me a lot of paperwork." He looks at Aivar hopefully.

"Ha! Cayden loves me. My actions have no consequences!" Raquel insists.

With Karinna's attention distracted by Nariel, she slips out of the inn and goes off in search of Aivar. Finding him heading back into the smithy, she taps him on the shoulder. "Hey, boss. You got a minute? Got to talk to you about something very important! Tristan and I need your permission to wrestle naked!"

Arianna grabs Raquel and slaps a hand over her mouth. "I am so sorry, what she meant was that she and Tristan were..."

bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 7

Her mind goes blank and she visibly deflates. "Yes alright I've got nothing. Sorry, won't happen again, Raquel would it help if you had a temple to practice in? Maybe not a temple, I don't know what sorts of places Caydenites worship in, a bar? Least then you know what you're in for..."

"For a Caydenite, every bar is a temple," Raquel says, nodding enthusiastically. "But I see what you're saying. If I have my own bar, then I can wrestle naked whenever I want and nobody can say anything. Good thinking, Arianna! You know, you are my favorite redhead."

Still a bit inebriated, she leans in and gives Arianna a peck on the cheek. Then she turns back to Aivar. "But that comes later. Right now, we have a formal challenge for a duel on the table. This is a matter of honor, and I know you paladins are all about honor. So we need official dispensation for a duel in the manner of our choosing for the title of Lord of the Tavern Wenches. And, uh, we need to to actually create that title so we can wrestle for it! Naked!"

Glancing over at Raquel with a somewhat dumbfounded look, Nariel eventually shrugged her shoulders in futility. Wait, this naked wrestling duel is actually happening? Oh for Nethys sake, I thought they were kidding! Whatever Nariel had thought, she also knew her companions well enough to know that now that this thing had started, it would be difficult stop.

Turning her attention towards Karinna, Nariel appeared relieved to hear the treasurer's request for help. Spending an afternoon pouring over ledgers and infrastructure requests promised to be fun for a bookworm like Nariel, and gave her good reason not to have to deal with the current situation. Smiling broadly, she nodded respectfully and enthusiastically towards the young Medyved noblewoman "Yes of course Lady Karinna, I would love to consult with you on the business of the Mark. I would also like to take the opportunity to discuss the details of my next expenditure proposal to Lord Kurisyl with you; I think you will be most pleased by what I think our next steps here in Thornmark should be."

Before the revelers left the bar, Nariel shot a sympathetic look towards Arianna as she tried to temper what almost certainly would prove to be a terrible idea. Or maybe a great idea? Who even knew anymore. Thankfully, Nariel wouldn't have to deal with anything of the sort; that would be up to Arianna and the Graf now. As Arianna passed her, Nariel mouthed the words without speaking... good luck.

So with that, Nariel is going to be a nerd and spend the afternoon with Karinna pouring over documents, rather than join the fun... or Aivar's ire on the whole idea of naked wrestling, fun as that sounds!

Finding him heading back into the smithy, she taps him on the shoulder. "Hey, boss. You got a minute? Got to talk to you about something very important! Tristan and I need your permission to wrestle naked!"

Raquel gets about half-way through her sentence before Wladimir calmly lifts her off the ground and physically throws her out of his smithy, where she lands - hard - on the sun-baked dirt of what passes for the street in this town. The door shuts firmly behind her.

The mountain-like man gives Aivar a respectful nod. "My apologies for that, My Lord, but alcohol, white-hot coal and red-hot metal do not mix. One of the apprentices I trained with learned that the hard way. Now, where were we? I believe you had something else to show me."

The feeling of being followed is enough to give Sasha a flash of panic, but the rogue takes a moment to settle her jangling nerves. She takes a few detours to make sure her intuition is correct, waits until she's in an unobserved part of town, and then takes a turn down an alley.

She presses against the wall of the building, a hand dropping to her knife. This isn't Silverhall, she reminds herself. Whoever is following you probably doesn't mean you any harm.

Her mind drifts back to that night—the feeling of being trapped, of heavy boots kicking her in the stomach, the ribs, the head. It could have been worse, the men that beat her might have gone further if not for the arrival of the guard. Never again.

When they round the corner, her open hand grabs them by the collar. She shoves them into the wall, and forces the tip of her knife under their chin.

"Look at this," she whispers. "I've picked up a shadow."

Aivar was about to suggest that he get Narièl to make sure the gold is accounted for and to see if they could help the smith out with his paperwork problems. However, the plans he has are rigorously thrown out of the window - or rather, the door, together with Raquel. He's speechless, but the smith's actions convey all he had to say. "Give me a moment. While you said what needed to be said, I'm afraid I need to add my part to it to quench this fire before it grows beyond control."

No matter how much he'd like it to, it doesn't end here though, and, assuming his duties as Graf, Aivar steps outside. The paladin leaves the smithy whilst shaking his head at Raquel. Or at Raquel? It's more so that he's utterly lost and truly confounded by the absolutely bizarre question she threw his way. A duel?! Of naked wrestling?! "Please, explain yourself. It should suffice when I tell you that the smith's rather brute dismissal of your proposal echoes my sentiments, but maybe we simply misunderstood what is nothing more than a tasteless joke?"

For once, the title he (now) carries truly separates Aivar from the shenanigans and whimsy that encompasses Raquel's character. "You do know that I, as Graf, can not condone such lewd and outright inappropriate behavior. I understand that you serve Cayden in your own and unique way, but this Mark and its people are bound to rather strict Brevan rules and laws, and their customs and outlook on life tend to reflect said legal straitjacket. All this talk of debauchery, celebrating lewdness, and mocking the sanctity of honorable duels will only end in headaches for me and condemnation by the people of you. And," he says with a sigh and a frown, "perhaps more problematically so, them condemning the worship of Cayden. And you and I both know just how much He has done for us, so please, my dearest, could you kindly reconsider this request and save it for a more appropriate time and place?"

Like in a week or two, when we're most likely out and about again, plodding through grass and mud?!

Raquel squeaks indignantly as she is tossed out onto her rump. "Oof! I believe I had a hat!" she shouts, shaking her fist.

Aivar's words serve to have a sobering effect on the cleric. She blushes and lowers her eyes. "Alright, big guy--er, Your Lordship." She affects an awkward curtesy. "I may have gotten a bit carried away. I wouldn't want to do anything to denigrate our reputation or that of the Accidental God. I shall render my apologies and table this motion for now. Truly, you are as wise as you are smelly," Raquel adds, unable to resist at least one good-natured gibe.

"Am I too smelly to at least get one hug from you before I go back in to finish my business with the smith?" It is clear that Aivar wasn't trying to sneak in any sort of innuendo into his sentence. Perhaps Cayden and Shelyn came together to bless his phrasing and in turn put a smile on Raquel's face?

"Hugs are always available upon request!" Raquel laughs. She throws her arms around the paladin and holds him tightly.

31 ERASTUS (VII) 4719

Afternoon/Evening

As word of your arrival filters out, your various advisers return from their duties: Kesten secures the tax you have collected, while Karinna and Nariel together work out the numbers and agree on a system for calculating what is owed. Jhod returns late in the day, having performed a funeral somewhere out of town (and his face indicates that no, he does not want to talk about it).

Eva flits in at some point - she's hard to keep track of - and she and Sasha spend quite some time in conversation.

Only Yuri fails to make an appearance, but this is apparently not a cause for concern, according to the others: the Marshal seems to make a point of taking his small group of riders to the outermost bounds of your Mark. The consensus seems to be that he'll return when he's good and ready.

By evening, the various quarrels that have marred the day are largely done and dusted, and even Karl is scowling less now that the taproom is crammed with people eager to hear the stories of what you have been up to. The night - and the end of the month - passes without incident.

1 ARODUS (VIII) 4719

Morning

A compromise seems to have been reached, or perhaps rather, a truce: on the understanding that you will soon be moving out, Karl gives you a corner of the taproom in which to "hold court" and plan out the various tasks for the month ahead. He walls it off with a section of fraying, slightly mouldy curtain, thereby shielding the rest of his patrons from contact with the Lord of the town when all they want is something to cure their hangover.

Merrim acts as go-between and serving girl, slipping between the two separate worlds and bringing your breakfast and drinks.

Yuri still has not returned, but with the rest of you all present, there is sufficient quorum for you to make decisions.

On to Kingdom Turn 3!

After introductions and the small chat has subsided at the Council meeting, Nariel stands up and addresses the group "Lord Kurisyl, members of the council," pausing a moment, Nariel alludes to their surroundings and the moldy sheet with a hint of disgust "as you can surmise, we have out lived our current arrangements." Taking a moment, Nariel unfurls the city map and continues "For this reason, I think we can all agree that it is perhaps the time to build ourselves a proper residence."

Taking a breath, Nariel nods towards Karinna before continuing "That having been said, after reviewing the treasury, Lady Karinna and I are in agreement that we will have to delay building the tannery in order to accomplish this. While this is a minor setback in someways economically, the new residence will be a more... appropriate place to conduct the business of state." Nariel's emphasis on the word 'appropriate' again strongly indicates her disdain for the current arrangement.

"Other than this adjustment, I propose we continue with our agrarian strategy, pushing north here," pausing, Nariel points towards an open tract of land north of the mines "which will allow us to continue to ensure proper food stores for our growing population. We should also continue road building, endeavor to connect Thorndale to the main road here." Glancing up, Nariel nods towards Aivar and then towards the others "Any thoughts?"

"I like the way you're thinking," Raquel says, filling mugs of ale for all the council members. "I think we should build our new lodgings somewhere away from the center of town. We don't want to flaunt our mansion in the middle of the common folks' smaller homes. Maybe somewhere with a nice view?"

The cleric sits down and sips from her own mug. "There's another concern I wanted to bring up. Merrim brought to my attention the fact that there seems to be an inordinate number of midwives who have emigrated to Thornmark in the past few weeks. It's unusual, sure, but not necessarily signs of trouble. Still, I think it's worth investigating further to find out why they have all come here."

Tristan blinks. A surfeit of... midwives?

"Ah, I suppose new lands entice... er, bountiful production of all sorts. Is this a known thing? Perhaps many new settlements attract the same attention. A trade secret of sorts among their number."

Aivar nervously taps his toes against the insides of his shoes. All this talk of reallocating resources so that he has a home, one he often won't be inhabiting as there is still a lot of exploring to do, it is making him feel uneasy. Fortunately for him, Raquel changes the topic. "Now that is odd. How about we start with a preliminary probe? Some of us can go and talk to some of these midwives and get a feel for what's what. If there's enough to go on, we can draft up a questionnaire and figure out how and why this has become a thing. I ... I can't imagine we've been sent a large number of single women who, now they're on their own, take to the one profession that suits their station?"

It's clear that Aivar's attempts at solving this puzzle only causes him to grow more confused.

Looking up from her map with a perplexed expression, Nariel raises an eyebrow to the news of the increased midwife presence "Very peculiar, and perhaps even a little disconcerting." The whole profession was something a rarity among her kind; elven women were pregnant so infrequently that such skills had little to no demand. Nariel herself was an only child, meaning that in the several centuries her parents had walked on Golarion, her mother had only given birth once.

Shrugging, Nariel added "If you need my help looking into it, let me know, otherwise I will continue overseeing the expansion. Once we have settled on a location, Karinna and I can set about procuring an architect and some contractors to build the manor. I might suggest if a home with a view is desired, building on bluff by the riverside would give a good vantage."

Again, I'm assuming there is a bluff, which are common in areas where rivers bend like it does in H4.

Aivar blinks and waves a hand about as if an invisible fly is pestering him. "Right, and before I forget. Narièl, Raquel, Karinna, the smith is in need of an assistant who can handle his paperwork. Think ledgers, orders, and whatnot. If you know of an able person who could fulfill said duties, would you mind connecting the smith to said person? I ... I think it is best for Thornhold if can somehow prevent the smith's temper from flaring up."

"That does sound interesting - but it will have to wait."

Yuri pushes the curtain to one side and limps in, taking a seat and wincing as he keeps his leg straight even while sitting. "Horse fell on me. I'm fine otherwise though, but I have to report that all is not well."

His normal youthful enthusiasm is somewhat curbed, but he gives you all a tight smile; Aivar gets a bow of his head, and Sasha gets a quick wink before he is all business again, delivering his report in military fashion. "As per standing instructions, I have been patrolling the bounds of the Mark and reconnoitring places of interest. My patrol's last stop was at the site of the old dwarven mine: my understanding is that we will want to claim that spot sooner rather than later. It seems that someone - something - some things have got there first, sadly."

He scowls. "They must have caught our scent as we approached, because they attacked from ambush. I saw at least three of them: around ten feet tall with greenish skin and very, very large teeth. Two horses were down before we knew what was happening, but I can report that my patrol are safe - we beat a hasty retreat and it seems that the monsters were only interested in food. Once they had a couple of our mounts they didn't pursue us. I have no idea what they are, but they're tough: I slashed one of them across the face and it didn't even blink. I will swear on whatever religious text you put in front of me that the wound just closed up."

His military facade fades as he concludes the report, a little green around the gills. He gives Raquel a shaky smile: "Whatever liquor you have to hand would be greatly appreciated."

Raquel quickly moves to provide a full mug to Yuri. "Nasty bit of business. Let me take a look at your leg." The cleric examines the injury and provides what aid she can.

Heal: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26

Do I recognize the description of the monster?

"Our thanks for thinking to patrol the site before we sent anyone out there, Yuri. I'm relieved to hear you didn't lose any of your soldiers."

He looks around at the others. "Seems this may be a job for us personally, don't you think Graf?"

know local or nature: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24 total of 32 if Nature, 33 if Local

Arianna pales at the description. "Oh, hell. You need not swear on a holy text, there. You're lucky to be alive--and by that I mean it's a testament to the skills of you and yours that you got out of there. I think, that we might be looking at some trolls."

Glancing up from her map, Nariel nodded at Aivar's request "I would be happy to help the smith if need be. What he probably needs is the help of a bookkeeper, though I am quite certain such skills are in short supply in Thornhold at this stage."

Noting Yuri's entrance with a quick glance, Nariel returns her glance to her maps as he explains the situation at the mine. Glancing up again, she pauses a moment with a light sigh. Leaning back, she crosses her arms "I suppose it was foolish to leave the mines unprotected." Glancing over at Arianna, Nariel nods in agreement "Trolls, they would fit that description, agreed. We will have to deal with them."

Raquel quickly discovers that Yuri's leg is badly bruised, but nothing is broken: a single cure spell is enough to relieve the pain.

Tristan's recollections agree with Arianna's and Nariel's: it sounds like you have troll trouble. Trolls are fearsomely voracious beasts that can eat several times their own bodyweight in a single day and they aren't picky about where they get it from. Their ability to regenerate makes them basically fearless and they can only be truly stopped with fire or acid.

The rest of the council nods in agreement as you make elimination of these newfound enemies your top priority. Karinna picks up the notes you have made of your plans for this month: "I can certainly get started on this while you are away." Jhod looks troubled but gives his assent too, while Kesten shakes his head: "A bad business, but there's nothing to be done; and on the plus side, if you're all devoured then it's a saving on funeral expenses. You have to look on the bright side of these things."

Gonna finish the kingdom turn before we move on.

With the various fracas that the ruling council has created, it is no surprise that the mood in town is a little more volatile than it was previously, although (so far) there are no ill effects as a result. Tax collection is somewhat muted, but Nariel's calculations show that at the end of the month you will still have sufficient in your treasury to account for predicted expenditures.

The only possible drawback is the failure of two of the small-holdings in the surrounding area: a combination of events including surly tenant farmers, the scorching Summer heat and a rat infestation. All are dealt with by your advisers to no ill effect, although the sight of the abandoned farmstead (its denizens having opted to return to Restov) with its fallow fields is a stark reminder of the weight of the task you have set out to accomplish.

OK, make any purchases, update your character sheets and let's go troll-hunting!

"I've certainly heard of trolls, and even researched them a bit. But I never thought I would see much less hunt one. I'm afraid my talents with magic don't lend well to such an endeavor. Unless we find a troll with sensitive ears. Still, if the rest of you lot can keep up the burn, I will do my best to stab our enemies repeatedly. Though I wonder... perhaps old Bokken knows how to make something useful in this situation?"

Does Bokken supply fire or acid potions or blade oils or anythin of that sort?

2 ARODUS (VIII) 4719

Rumours of the trolls soon spread through the town like wildfire: Yuri's patrol aren't the quiet sort and this isn't the type of news you can keep a lid on for very long. Fortunately, the council's clear determination to deal with it as soon as possible keeps a lid on any panic - for now.

Departing at first light the following morning, you are at Bokken's cabin later that same day. The hermit doesn't exactly welcome you, but he doesn't try and shoot you with his crossbow either. It turns out that he has quite a collection of alchemical items: as he explains in his authentic frontier gibberish, he is no longer being hornswoggled by thievin varmint bandits coming to take the best of what he has.

He gives you a sly look from beneath his eyelids: "Was thinkin mebbe about takin' a passel of these things up to Oleg's and seein' who wants 'em... but if you lot want to build me some place I could sell stuff in your town, would be a whole lot easier journey for me."

Let me know what you want to buy: most basic alchemical items are available

"We're going troll-hunting, my good man. Acid and fire are the name of the game," Tristan says. "And an alchemists shop sounds promising to me, but of course it is Aivar and Nariel that handle most of that sort of thing."

He looks about at the offerings...

Getting a couple flasks of alchemist's fire for each party member (if Bokken has that many) seems like a good preparation. Deals fire damage for two rounds on a direct hit, so we can lock down the troll's regen for plenty of time even without spells.