"Great news, Your grace! Maegar Varn, lord of Varnhold, wants to form an alliance with you and establish a trade route between your lands. Here is Lord Varn's letter, see for yourself!"
"Good day, Your grace. A courier has delivered a letter from Maegar Varn, the ruler of the colony to the east of our capital. If the messenger's words are to be believed, he has a lucrative offer for you: he wants to establish a trade route between your realms."
"Oh, look: a letter for you! Looks like it's from one of the go-getters doing Aldori's bidding. Have you ever heard of a Maegar Varn? No? That's funny — he sure knows a lot about you. Enough to try to sweet talk you into building a trade route."
"Finally good news, Your Grace! Maegar Varn, the ruler of Varnhold, has sent aid! Together with goods came a messenger with a letter for you. Here, please, take it!"
"Wagon trains from Varnhold have arrived in the capital. Maegar Varn sends you his regards and asks you to accept the humble aid that he hopes will last you through these tough times. I think there are more details in his letter."
"Hmm... looks like Maegar Varn wants something from you, {Baron/Baroness}. Otherwise, why would he send you several wagon trains laden with bundles and sheafs? Here's the letter — I think it'll tell you the reason for Varn's fit of generosity."
"Remember that strange Gunderson fellow? The one who kept asking you to go to Candlemere Lake and get his not-exactly-his treasure? Well, he got peeved with you and left! He said he's headed east — for more treasure again, I'd guess! Here, he asked me to give you this farewell message."
"Your Grace, Lady Jamandi sent an answer to your hasty message. Luckily, the Swordlord took your quick temper into account, and decided to resolve the situation peacefully. Furthermore, a caravan has come from Restov, carrying resources for the barony! I hope now you will be able to appreciate the generosity of the Aldori!"
"Your Grace, a letter from Jamandi Aldori arrived. It seems the Swordlords have their tails between their legs: they sent a whole caravan of valuable goods along with the letter. Jamandi Aldori must be in a perilous situation, if she's inducing Your Grace with gifts. Here, take the letter."
"You won't believe it, Your Grace! Today a caravan entered the city, filled with generous gifts from Restov! I wonder who could have sent it. Maybe a certain lady was impressed by our determination? Bravo, Your Grace — I salute your aggressive diplomacy skills! Here, see for yourself — it's a letter from Jamandi Aldori!"
"Your Grace, I came to say farewell. Alas, I must return to my homeland — I have responsibilities as family head. Thank you for everything you've done for me. Take care of yourself."
Linzi's cheeks are wet with tears. She weeps and sniffles. "Sharel... the half-elf you saved from wrongful accusation and hired as the court tailor... he's been murdered!"
"Someone butchered him – cut open his stomach! Right in front of his own workshop! His neighbor was scared to death when she found him this morning... oh, this is so horrible! He was such a nice fellow!"
"There's a commotion in a village by lake Silverstep! An artisan you know has gone missing – Mim Wobblegander. A local shepherd saw her walking with a backpack toward Talon Peak, but didn't ask her where she was going."
"{name}, I've just received word… Did you know that there's trouble brewing in Varnhold? Their militia is at odds with itself! The captain cannot keep her soldiers in line. According to her, they've gotten completely out of hand. – It might even come to bloodshed! I think you should pay them a visit personally."
Amiri looks unusually grim today. "Listen… We need to talk. But not in front of everyone. After the council ends — come to the tavern. It's about my tribe. My old one from before."
"I kind of... I wanted to ask you something about my tribe... It's — forget it, it doesn't matter anymore. They're gone now — so hell with them! We have enough to do without those scums, right?" Amiri tries to force a grin, but fails. You can see that she's upset, but not inclined to talk about it.
"Come to the tavern after the council. We need to talk. About my damn tribe, and Nilak. And about the ghost. Will you come? I will wait. I will try not to get drunk, but I really want to."
Linzi is trying not to look at you. "I'm... well... it's about Ekun's party. Of course, now's not the time... and I'm sure you have other things on your mind... so let's just forget about this, all right?"
"About the dwarven ruins... Do you recall that I wanted to see them? I have thought about it for a while and realized that I shouldn't. It's all nonsense, dust and ashes, vain and pointless. Why look to ruins for purpose, if the whole world is soon to join them?"
Harrim fiddles with his beard pensively. "Do you remember the Skjegge clan who came to us, begging us to save them? You agreed to help them back then, but we never got around to it. Sometimes I wonder what happened to them..."
"They probably died. Or returned home in disgrace... But what's the difference? There's a lesson for all of us, {Name}: don't go after the treasures of the dead, unless you are ready to join them. It was their pride that unmade them. Pride and greed..."
Rudrin Skjegge looks much better than she did on your first meeting. Back then she could barely stand for the wounds she'd received fighting the golem. Now the dwarf stands proudly at attention before you in polished armor.
"Your Highness! My dear Sir Harrim, deeply respected servant of Groetus! The Skjegge clan has sent me to you to express our gratitude for everything you have done for us, and present you with this humble gift. We crafted this for Sir Harrim personally, from the metal of artifacts unmade by him." Rudrin hands a small but heavy chest to Harrim and bows.
Harrim frowns, trying to hide his confusion, then nods and accepts the gift. "Well... I'm glad you're all right. It's nice to see someone managed to make something useful out of those worthless scraps."
"It's a pity you couldn't find time to investigate my murder. Our primary piece of evidence — the wild boar's carcass in the Old Sycamore — was torn to pieces, either by local wildlife or starving peasants. Enneo the merchant managed to flee, as well. All the clues have been lost. Now we may as well forget about it."
"It's a pity you couldn't find time to continue investigating my murder. I've learned that a group of travelers visited the bank of the Thorn River, exactly where the boar appeared before the Old Sycamore. But now the travelers are gone. Enneo the merchant managed to flee, as well. All the clues are lost."
"It's a pity you couldn't find time to visit Enneo the merchant. He managed to escape, and his possessions were stolen by some petty thieves. All the clues are lost now."
"It appears that we've hopelessly lost the opportunity to hunt down the half-blood. My agents discovered the dead body of a priestess of Urgathoa, who he'd been chasing. As for Enneo himself, he's disappeared without a trace, just like last time."
"It's — how should I put it? — an essay on your barony. Written by Jubilost Narthropple, and published only recently. I thought you might like to see it for yourself." Jhod hands you a magazine.
"It's — how should I put it? — an essay on your barony. Written by Jubilost Narthropple, and published only recently. I thought you might like to see it for yourself." Jhod hands you a magazine.
"It's — how should I put it? — an essay on your barony. Written by Jubilost Narthropple, and published only recently. I thought you might like to see it for yourself." Jhod hands you a magazine.
Jubilost looks very irritated. "Great! While we were busy with needless and unsophisticated pastimes like chasing an ancient cyclops, the Inconsequent Debates have ended! The Host has returned to the First World. We're left with nothing! Congratulations."
"Miss me?" Whistling to herself, Linzi enters the throne room. The bard is thinner than you recall. She seems to have acquired a few scars, and her clothes look no better than rags. Nevertheless, she seems as cheerful as ever, and her smile as carefree.
"Well, I had quite an adventure in Numeria! Enough material to fill a whole separate book, and then some! All those barbarians, metallic monsters, Technic League agents... How I managed to make it out, only Shelyn knows!"
"So, how've things been here without me? Seems you've become a {baron/baroness}! You'll have to tell me later how you managed to defeat the Stag Lord, and all the rest of your adventures. I'm starving for details! My book isn't going to write itself, you know!"
"Bad news, Your Grace: there is a thief within your close circle. A significant shortage has been discovered within the treasure. An investigation is already underway — the guilty party will soon be brought before you for judgment."
"Unpleasant but, alas, expected news: someone with access to the treasury seems to have appropriated a large sum from it. The circle of suspects is not particularly wide — I believe we will soon discover who was responsible."
"I'm sure it's unthinkable to you, but someone from your court has sticky fingers! A large sum has vanished from the treasury. I've already started looking for the responsible party."
"I... Umm... I think I might know something about this, um, sad — no, shocking! — most shocking event. Can we discuss it one-on-one, maybe? I'll wait for you at the inn after council!" Without waiting for your reply, Linzi runs out of the throne room.
"I just heard... King Irovetti caught Professor Eobald and... and... executed him. We were too late. Forgive me, Teacher..." Linzi sniffles loudly, covering her face.
"Your Grace, there is one small matter... a series of small matters, actually, that's growing into a larger problem... your goblin... ally... seems to have invited more of his tribe to the capital, and they are acting as if… as if it is their home."
"It seems your goblin friend and his allies have been industrious in their latest blasphemy – they are erecting statues to Lamashtu, the Mother of Beasts right outside the capital. It's heresy, and it is spreading fear and panic among the people."
"Your Grace, there is one small matter... a series of small matters, actually, that's growing into a larger problem... your goblin... ally... seems to have invited more of his tribe to the capital, and they are acting as if… as if it is their home."
"It seems your goblin ally and his tribe have been industrious – they are erecting statues to Lamashtu, the Mother of Beasts right outside the capital. Do... they do this with your leave?"
"Your Highness, there is something transpiring outside the city. You may want to go yourself – it seems your goblin... ally... has been industrious again and fashioned some sort of... something." He sighs. "It may be best you go see for yourself."
"Your Highness, there is something transpiring outside the city. You may want to go yourself – it seems your goblin... ally... has been industrious again and fashioned some sort of... something." He sighs. "It may be best you go see for yourself."
"Remember how we found out about that Technic League lair, where Janush had dug in? Scouts report the wretches left the kingdom. It's too late to catch them — they're probably already in Numeria by now."
"I guess we'll never know what the Technic League wanted... Now if only they'd never come back. I don't think for a minute they'll just leave us alone — but we'll probably never get such a lucky chance to take them unawares again."
"I've been meaning to ask you about something. This might seem stupid. Or arrogant. Or just insolent..." Tristian stumbles and catches his breath. "I want to talk to you."
"I think you know what it's about. It's — it's what I've done. And what I haven't done." The priest lowers his head and grows quiet. "But let's speak in private, far from curious ears. I will be at the viewing point, in the palace garden. Please come as soon as you can."
"Your Grace, today a letter from Brevoy was delivered to the castle. It was written by Fredero Sinnet, a paladin from the Order of the Eternal Rose. It appears that Sir Sinnet is claiming right to one of your companions, who was brought up in his custody... Well, I'll leave it to you to handle this delicate matter."
"A letter from Brevoy, Your Grace. Fredero Sinnet, a paladin and mentor of the Order of the Eternal Rose, has come to your lands to retrieve your companion, Valerie. It seems he's going on some sort of pilgrimage, and he hopes his former disciple will come with him. It's a rather unexpected request, but you'll have to deal with it. Here's the letter from Sinnet."
"I have an intriguing letter for you, Your Grace. A certain Fredero Sinnet, a paladin of Shelyn from Brevoy, is claiming right to our charming Valerie! Not in the sense that the entire population of the capital is trying to, but as her teacher and mentor! Here's the letter – see for yourself!"
Valerie looks gloomy. "I heard rumors that my old mentor, Fredero Sinnet, assembled his entourage and left the boundaries of the Stolen Lands. It looks like we didn't make it to the trading post before his patience was exhausted."
The girl waves carelessly. "It might be for the best. I'm sure you have enough problems without a fanatic paladin claiming rights to me as property of the Order of the Eternal Rose. Pff!"
Valerie looks at you from under her eyebrows. "I heard a rumors that Fredero Sinnet, a paladin from the Order of the Eternal Rose was killed at the trading post. Slaughtered with his entire entourage. Oleg and Svetlana are keeping silent about it, like they're afraid of snitching on someone."
"We need to guard your lands more carefully, {name}. It's unlikely you'll ever create a proper state here if such unpunished atrocities keep happening."
"Good news, Your Grace. Valerie seems to have stopped behaving like a furious wildcat! I don't think we need to worry any more about innocent citizens meeting her when she's on the war path."
"Bad news! We've heard that visitors have lately been spreading unfavorable rumors about your {barony/kingdom}. It's as if {kingdomname} is a stronghold of barbarism and feeble-mindedness, where people of arts are rare and endangered! Our artists are alleged by these rumors to be considered our least valued citizens! Such rumors can't but affect our reputation. I'm afraid you'll have to entrust one of your advisors with this matter!"
"An antique vendor, told me that that the Order of Prisms has been spreading nasty rumors. – They're one of the branches of Shelyn's church." Linzi scratches her chin thoughtfully. "Here's what I've been thinking... A couple weeks ago I saw Valerie tear up some letter. She was so terribly angry! – Just like she was back when her former mentor came for her... Anyway, I didn't ask her about it – that would be more trouble than it's worth. But you'll probably be able to find out what happened, and if this has any connection to Shelyn!"
