<A-RP> The Kingdom of Arathor: Retired

Moon Guard
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On this, the first day of February in the King's Year Six Hundred and Twenty Six, I, Thane Everen who is Palatine of Stromgarde, announce a bounty on the head of any Witherbark troll. Their recent raids against our people must be avenged, and any man who does so shall one receive one gros for each troll slain.
If any man shall go raiding, and does so habitually, the penalty is full outlawry and he need not be led to the border. The prosecution lies with his victims or with the King. - the Code
If a priest improperly performs a marriage and does not tell the couple of this, and they wed and conceive a bastard, the penalty on him shall be lesser outlawry and he shall pay the bride price, no matter when it is discovered. - the Code
Everen! We needs a meeting!
You all know the drill. Petty court at the 8th bell, Stromgarde Keep, tonight. As in, forty minutes.
The thing I'll never forget is the drumming. It's not the raids themselves that wear at you. It's the drumming. When the trolls get together in their big cities, you can hear it through half the damn mountain passes and see the fires flickering.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Big, big drums, probably made of human skin. You don't forget the drums.
- Baron Eisen von Heffiger after his sojourn in the Northern hills bordering the Hinterlands, c. 600KY
Today, dear friends, is tax day. Yes, now you can give the government money in a video game too!

"But Everen," you say, "You're not the King!" You're right! I'm not! But in the interests of enhancing the depth of economic roleplay, we're doing it anyway and placing anything that is raised into the Kingdom's coffers.

If you're a Highlander or own property there, this is your chance to participate in an entirely optional event (even my own guildies don't have to do it, because let's face it, who wants to pay taxes in a video game?) where you tell Ev what you own, he tells you how much is owed, and it all goes in a ledger for future reference. No special claims of authority here, no demand anyone do it - just an opportunity for those who might be interested.
Late at night, the hall is largely empty. The dim light from the torches leaves great pools of shadow on the old and blackened floorboards, glinting on the steel plate of the last and much delayed petitioner as he speaks in a hush. "Another raid, my Thane. They burned two hamlets before the fyrd rallied. They ran the moment they saw real resistance, just like the last time. The bounty alone is not proving enough."

On the dais, Everen rubs tiredly at his nose, crooked from a brawl long ago, stealing some of the dignity of its aquiline bend. Between the dim light, the hour, and his black cassock he almost seems a ghost, some apparition of long ago, with his archaic title and the troll problem. His voice is hoarse from shouting during an earlier dispute, his muscles sore and aching from a long day of standing (the throne being reserved, of course, for King Danath, not an upjumped seneschal).

"Sad and bleak news, Sir Warin. I will petition his Grace to send men to reinforce the garrison in the East, and as many of my own household forces as I may spare. But I fear we may not be able to provide you with the shining army you seek."

He turns, gesturing for Sir Warin to follow him as he limps along the granite dais to his small desk along one wall, lit by a pair of candles doubling as paperweights. After some moments of searching, he sets aside a heavy tax ledger to a map, looking over his shoulder at the Easterner.

"The Witherbark tribe are not the only troll threat that is resurfacing with renewed vigour." He pauses, gesturing to the entire northern border, the mountain chain that forms the natural barrier with the Hinterlands. "The passes are alive with the sound of the drums once again. The Vilebranch are sending war parties south, through every crag and gulley. I cannot send you many of my household guard while they must defend against raids of their own."

Next, he taps his finger in the West, along the bold line of Thoradin's wall. "The Forsaken have breached the wall once again. With our recent schism, they took advantage of the chaos and undid our gains. The entire Second Legion is barely proving able to stop them from advancing further, to Stromgarde itself. And even with Duke Mathilan's latest strike against Hammerfell, the stronghold still stands. We are caught with enemies coming from all directions but the South."

A heavy, tired sigh. "I will send you what I can, and call for our allies to send men to aid you, Sir Warin. But be prepared to stand alone. I know you have sworn an oath of fealty to his Grace, and it grieves me that he may not be able to fulfill his obligations. But these are desperate times."
ohai der
Any man that does kill a troll, and present evidence of this, shall be paid one one groat for this; for the killing of a troll is a benefit to the Kingdom. - the Code.

Yes, the one gros (for you southrons and Westerlings, that's 2 gold) bounty is on top of the one groat, to reflect the dire times as well as gradual inflation of currency.
If a man refuses to feed his close kin in times of trouble when he is able, and does so without reason of law, he shall pay to them one groat; three if there are children. - the Code
The Kingdom will be holding another market on the 8th, at 7PM server. Everyone is free to attend, though IC certain groups may receive a hostile welcome.

Expect to pay customs dues at the gate (no real gold transactions, please.) and enjoy an evening of enjoyable, in-depth economic roleplay. We'd especially like to welcome anyone who may play a farmer, craftsman, or other 'economic' role, rather than just nobles and adventurers. Come hawk a dozen bushels of barley.

I guarantee you, the barley will be bought.

the barley... my barley...
If a man fight in the king's presence, the penalty shall be lesser outlawry, though the King may waive this. - the Code
Never forget that a troll is not a man. A wound that would kill me or you won't kill them. They have longer reach than we do, stronger bodies, and they don't die easy.

So you need to do one of two things. Either you need to hack that body to so many pieces it looks more like minced beef than anything alive, or you need to set it on fire.

Fire's easier. I'm not teaching you fire. Pick up your axe.
- Armsmaster Johanus, c. 614KY
If any man shall break his word in a trade deal, he shall pay one groat to the aggrieved and one groat to the King. - the Code
If a ship washes up on the shore, and no man comes forth who may prove ownership within one month, it shall belong to the owner of that land, or to the King if he so wishes. - the Code
Petty court in half an hour, folks. PM me if you're interested.
The Kingdom would like to welcome the Remnants of Strom into the fold of the laws.
If a Lawspeaker fails to know the law, or to find the law within three days, he is to pay a fine of one gros to the King, and one groat to the man who asked the law of him. - the Code
If any man shall cast a hex on his neighbour's eye that shall cause blindness in him, the penalty shall be full outlawry. - The Code

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