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Message: <blockquote data-quote="BoldItalic" data-source="post: 6793517" data-attributes="member: 6777052">The town of Overbridge was, reasonably enough, over the bridge. Rylnethaz noted that the town itself was surrounded by a wooden palisade that must have taken considerable resources to build, suggesting that dangers lay in the countryside around it; indeed, they had just encountered one of them in the form of a mammoth burrowing lobster.There were gates at each end of the bridge that were presently open but guarded by soldiers who looked proficient. Clearly, this town was able to defend itself. As they approached the nearer gate, the were quite surprised when a trumpet sounded clear in the afternoon air. It must have been a signal, for the guards presented arms and, as one man, cried "Hail to the King!""I think they mean you," said BoldItalic quietly. "This is your kingdom, Sir Rylnethaz; play your part royally and we will back you up."Through the gate as they neared it, they could see a crowd of townsfolk lining the way along the bridge and looking eagerly towards them. Some waved; others jostled for a better place. Small children were pushed to the front. As he rode past, Rylnethaz noticed a small, ragged girl holding up a toy doll; perhaps her only possession. He leaned down and blessed the girl with an elvish blessing then, very gravely, blessed her doll too as if it were real. The girl's eyes lit up with joy and the crowd went wild. A mother rushed forward to kiss the king's foot.Passing through the second gate and riding along a wide cobbled street through more cheering crowds, King Rylnethaz reached the town square. There, a man who was clearly the mayor was waiting to receive him, accompanied by a small cluster of self-important looking aldermen. The mayor made a short speech and presented Rylnethaz with a set of keys, symbolising his dominion over the town. The king replied suitably and introduced BoldItalic, his vizier, and Clotbert, his arch-priest, as his trusted advisors.Fingers seemed to be missing for the moment. He had stopped on the bridge to negotiate with a butcher who had set up his stall there, arranging a mutually agreeable price for the flesh of the ground-lobster. They estimated that the claws alone would provide a good feast for half the town. Not long afterwards, a ox-wagon trundled out of the gate and up to the hill where the monster's half-roasted corpse still lay. Meanwhile, Fingers followed the crowd towards the town square. On the way, he apprehended two pick-pockets who thought they were unobserved until they found Fingers at their elbows relieving them of their ill-gotten gains and whatever else they happened to have about them. They were allowed to escape with no more than a glare of warning from the halfling but the glare was enough; it was the kind of glare that said "Your face is known, brother". Fingers was setting himself up to be a power to be reckoned with amongst the lower orders in the town.A priest stepped forward from the crowd around the mayor and greeted Clotbert cordially, as one to another, and an understanding passed between them. After the formalities were over, they went to the town's temple to discuss matters of mutual interest, such as the appropriateness of announcing a festival on the morrow to celebrate "King's Day" - a concept they simply invented to suit the occasion but which they felt was sure to appeal to the populace at large. A key part of the newly long-established tradition, they were firmly agreed, was to be the making, by the faithful townsfolk, of small donations to the temple to gain the blessings of the gods on the reign of the new king. To show that the gods approved, small cakes would be distributed and a select circle of especially pious townswomen would be allowed the privilege of baking them. The auguries were surprisingly good for this plan.BoldItalic accompanied the king to a tedious meeting of the town council, chaired by the mayor. It emerged that the king would be expected to sit in judgement on a vexed case concerning the disputed inheritance of the town flour mill. The late miller, at his untimely death, left a widow and two sons. The elder son was his mother's favourite and she indulged him in all things; he was a profligate wastrel and took no interest in the miller's trade but had the prior claim to inherit the mill and his mother supported him in this. The second son, by contrast, had always worked hard and it was to his credit that the mill thrived; it was widely known that his father had often promised him the business.Rylnethaz heard the case and listened to the competing claims. He turned to BoldItalic and asked his opinion. "This would be my advice," the wizard said. "Each son will mill as much flour as he can in half a day, unaided by assistants. We will observe to ensure that there is fair play. Whichever grinds the more, he is the miller that the town has most need of and thus will the king be best served." The king saw the wisdom of this and pronounced it as his judgement. The mayor and council nodded in approval; there was no doubt which son would succeed and it was in everyone's interest that businesses should thrive and hard work be rewarded. But the miller's widow was dismayed. "How shall I live?" she cried, thinking only of herself, "I am a poor widow and you would leave my doting son, who would support me in my old age, with nothing!""Be not affeared, good woman," said the king, "We will provide you and your eldest son with a living at our expense." The widow began to look pleased at this, expecting she would be getting something for nothing, but the king continued "We have need of a good cook at the castle. I will pay you a small wage and you can live next to the kitchens. It will be your own little domain and all I ask in return is that you prepare the finest fare fitting a king's table, every day." The widow's face fell at this. It was not what she imagined but she had no other option that she could see. "Thank you, my lord," was the best she could manage. "And of my son, who is penniless?" Rylnethaz was ready for this. "Why, he will be close by and supporting you, as is your fondest wish. He will be your pot-boy and, if he works hard and proves his worth, I will promote him to second cook."</blockquote>

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