text: or tomorrow and it's..." begins Bomboulos.
  
  "...completely made out of solid gold, right? That's exactly the problem!" do you yell, as you finish his sentence.
  
  "Perhaps we should just give up. There's nothing to lose either way," proposes Tyrwill. Indeed if you were to withdraw from the contest, there would be no consequences.
  
  "There's also another alternative... We could, for example, bend the rules a little bit in our favor. We're the ones organizing the competition after all." suggests the bloke that got disqualified two times in a row.
  
  They're completely hopeless that much is clear, but you'll have to do with what you got. Sink or swim, what are you going to do?
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (60)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (40)
  
  > We'll keep competing.
  Indeed, never give up! "I strongly believe that if we give it our all, we can move mountains! Do your best, for the glory of the order of the Golden Sun!" After your statement, all the knights of your order cheer loudly. Well, in this case, they'll probably be struggling to move even a molehill. So it's pretty much a leap of faith to put your trust in them, but it can't possibly get any worse than it already is, right?
  
  The following day, the second part of the tourney starts. You know, the competition where two knights try to knock each other off their horse. After they get knocked off, they switch whatever weapon they fancy and continue to fight on foot. That last part was added because most knights were unwilling to give up. So they scratched the various weapon duel and included it in the pike-stabbing-competition.
  
  "Jousting, your highness, it's called jousting," reminds a meddlesome servant you. Anyway, it's a 'stab-and-bash-until-they-drop' competition and it's awfully popular for some reason amongst the knights.
  
  Luckily, you're not half bad when it comes to the stabbing and bashing part. You never bothered to train yourself intensely. But together with your natural talents, your equipment of clearly superior quality and considerable motivation, you manage to perform surprisingly well. It's only until you encounter Fladius in the ring, that you're defeated. In fact, you're defeated quite miserably. At first, he pretends that he has somehow received an injury after your encounter with him and you get the impression you might be able to win. But then he suddenly laughs, "Did you really thought those sneaky assassins would be enough to handle me?" And then he stops playing around and you received the most painful beating of your whole life. Luckily your personal guard interferes and surrounds him after he got a few hits in. Due to 'fair play' reasons, they can't do much, but one of them 'accidentally' knocks Fladius out from behind.
  
  But what surprised you most of all, was what each of your companions achieved in their own odd way. Once Bomboulos managed to finally get some speed on his horse, he was more like a battering ram than a charging knight. So every match where he managed to hit his opponent through sheer luck, it was an instant victory for him. This time, wielding a golden mace wasn't that bad of an idea either. The Majority of his opponents were dragged down by their heavy armor and failed to dodge his strikes. Fariera's bewitching smile always distracted her opponents long enough for her to land a decisive blow. While she managed to demoralize the other female knights with a barrage of insults and cruel comments. Although it was quite underhanded, it wasn't against the rules and it's nothing compared to what Tyrwill did. She just threw a tantrum and every chivalrous knight had quite a difficult time in dealing with her.
  
  Only Hallas didn't do as well as the others. He did manage to win a few matches, but once it came to light his opponents had been bought off, he was once again disqualified. There's also the incident where his opponent suddenly ended up with an arrow in his back. Perhaps a fight with rules simply isn't his strong point.
  
  So the result was that Orlag ended up at the 12th place, Bomboulos at 31st place, Fariera at 42nd place and Tyrwill at 48th place. While you only got 68th place, because your injuries took you out of the competition midway.
  
  All in all, the honor of the knight of the Golden Sun is more or less saved. You weren't the stars of the show, but slowly your name spreads across the land.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (90)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (60)
  
  > Continue.
  Time passes by quickly, it's already autumn in Valinor. The city is preparing itself for the coming winter. Everybody stocks up the needed supplies to make it through the coldest and harshest season of the year. The nobles clink their glasses together to celebrate a good year of trade and taxes, while the peasants are despairing how they're going to survive this time. Of course, it's the fear for an uncertain future, that drives people to do odd things. Things that are somewhat... incomprehensible for you, at least from the viewpoint of your warm and comfortable sofa. Well, they're peasants, you're never going to understand them. And like spring brings hope, autumn brings along a bunch of lunatics seeking to exploit the fear of the common man. On a certain morning, on an ordinary day, you end up running into such a lunatic.
  
  You're riding on your horse through the streets of Valinor, with the rest of your entourage behind you. The weather is still nice, for this time of the year. You and your knight order went out to hunt a rumored legendary deer. It almost manged to escape, so you had no other option than ordering every soldier present to shoot it. Although you managed to kill the legendary animal, it was practically shredded to pieces by all the arrows. Ruining its fur and making a large part of it's flesh no longer edible. But since you only hunt for fun, that's only a trivial problem. When you arrive at the city square, you spot a large crowd of people. It seems there's some kind of event going on.
  
  In the middle of the crowd, there are multiple piles of wood, about two meters in height. At the peak of each pile rises a long wooden beam up. At every wooden beam, there's somebody tied up to. They are dressed in rags and look a bit odd. Some of them are screaming and begging for mercy, while others are apathetically gazing in front of them. On a platform before the pyres a fat and bald man, wearing wide red robes, looms over the crowd. The man has a fanatic look in his eyes as he gazes up and slowly spreads his arms. "Oh let the heavens have mercy on us. Why did the fields not yield a harvest that's large enough? Why do the innocent get sick, when the cold wind blows? Why aren't we receiving the favor of the heavens?" After an overly dramatic long pause and the man suddenly points his hand up in the air. "I, great priest Turokal of the church of the Eternal Light, have spent countless nights searching the heavenly firmament for answers! As I tirelessly gazed at the stars, slowly a shocking answer came to me. There are some amongst us, that have displeased the heavens and earned us their wrath!"
  
  Shocked the crowd holds its breath, eagerly waiting for the priest to continue. Agitated Turokal walks around the stage then he suddenly turns towards the wooden piles. "The evil and the wicked! They have unleashed hunger and sickness over the innocent! But do not despair, there's still hope for salvation. A way to make the heavens smile on us once again! We must cleanse our humble community of such individuals! And the order of the Eternal Light is the only way to fight such evil!" Slowly the crowd gets more and more riled up and they begin to loudly agree with the priest. Then Turokal dramatically claps his hand together. "We shall cleanse them in the holy fires, as we shall cleanse our hearts! Burn these sorcerers, light the pyres. Let it bring us warmth and the forgiveness of the heavens!" Then an executioner steps forward to ignite the wood with his torch.
  
  There's quite the farce going on, they'll probably encounter these kinds of problems every year. So that it still took 'countless nights of tirelessly searching' to arrive at the same answer as all the years before, could make you wonder about the competence of this priest. But it seems he's quite skilled at riling the peasants up in the yearly burn-the-witch event. Then again, it's your first time witnessing something like this. Lorimur is a strict military state and your grandfather exterminated every single church and religious cults. Some say he wanted to free the people from religious strife, while others say he simply wanted to hog all the power and influence to himself. Knowing grandpa, it was probably the latter of the two. If a king or queen wishes for an absolute monarchy, a church is nothing but an eyesore. Of course any peaceful orders that wanted to teach the people how to live in harmony with each other, got eradicated too. Your grandpa was always pretty dedicated when it came to eliminating any possible future hindrances.
  
  Suddenly Bomboulos rushes forward on his horse. "Stop! Stop this at once! What do you think you're doing?!" He's loudly screaming, while his horse charges through the crowd. You and the rest of the knights and soldiers follow behind him, albeit a bit surprised about his behavior.
  
  The executioner hesitates and gazes up at the priest, who turns around to look at the person who dared to disturb them. Turokal looks annoyed at first, but when he sees that Bomboulos is a knight and an awfully rich one at that, he gets a lot more amicable. And when he sees the large group of knights and soldiers following behind him, he completely turns into a friendly and patient middle-aged man, who would gladly listen to your worries. "Oh, my lord, I didn't see you immediately. Welcome, in our midst, your lordship! Is there anything I can help you with?"
  
  "I'm ordering you to stop! You were going to..." screams Bomboulos almost out of breath.
  
  "Please make no mistake, these are foul demon spawn, who..." begins the priest.
  
  "Yes, yes," says Bomboulos, while he waves annoyed at the priest. "And you can burn them for all I care. Burning witches isn't much of a problem by itself, but burning them without my boss permission, well that's a big problem!"
  
  "Ah... your boss? But the great nobles can't do anything to me... I mean, I have the approval of the great nobles. So who's your..." stammers the priest.
  
  "His lordship Xalendar, the leader of the knight order of the Golden Sun! You ignorant monkey! He's! the one that owns the place here!" snarls Fariera. It seems your fellow knights are more concerned about his actions challenging your authority than the witches involved. Although he's by no means a threat to somebody like you, if such cults are not handled properly they tend to become quite the pain.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (90)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (60)
  
  > What have these people done wrong exactly?
  "They earned us the displeasure of the heavens and...," begins Turokal. Here we go again.
  
  "I asked 'exactly' that means, tell me what they precisely did and try to include some reliable proof, while you're at it."
  
  "I read it in the stars..." Then five of your soldiers aim their crossbows at the priest and all of a sudden he gets more down to earth. "...Eh? What? Normally we don't ask ourselves these kinds of questions. And there might be no proof in this mortal realm, that would please you, my lord."
  
  "And how do you know these people are responsible in any way?"
  
  "Ha ha, I just know! Look at them! They're sorcerers, witches, a stranger nobody knows and hideously deformed demon spawn!" yells the priest while he wildly points at the prisoners.
  
  "Ah, and what can they do? How dangerous can they be then?"
  
  "They used their foul curses to anger the heavens..." Then the priest swallows the rest of his words when one of your soldiers is clumsy enough to accidentally fire his crossbow and the arrow firmly lands between his feet. "I-I mean we don't exactly know what kind of spells they can use and it's difficult to explain how dangerous they are."
  
  "How many soldiers are needed to catch one?" It seems you'll have to resort to simpler measures to estimate the danger level.
  
  "Soldiers? Ehm, three brave citizens you mean, my lord. Besides Borrie the woodcutter even got a broken nose, as he faced off against the demon spawn."
  
  And on the question, 'How was the injury inflicted?', it turns out, the spell in question was called 'fist'. By now, it's quite clear that this kind of religious genocide is a bit arbitrary at best.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (90)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (60)
  
  > Can you tell you more about your order?
  "We're the chosen of mankind, we listen to and follow the will of the heavens. We guide the lost sheep on the right path and purge out the evil and the wicked, so that one day we all may receive salvation and bask in the glory of the heavens."
  
  "Okay, time for the more comprehensible version," do you say. Then under the encouragement of your soldiers, who are making threatening gestures, your request is answered.
  
  "Our order was formed 30 years ago by the high priest. He was originally a knight too, he led the order of the nine Chosen Swords of the Heavens. We teach our faith to the people, divine the future in the stars and burn witches. We do this out of the kindness of our hearts... and thanks to the generous donations we receive."
  
  So that means that it's only a small money-grabbing-cult, some morons with inflated egos and a rather pathetic short history too. Nothing special. Completely different from your illustrious knight order.
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (90)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (60)
  
  > You'll allow it, one one condition...
  "Aha! I understand you perfectly, my lord. You wish for a share of the donations from the believers of our faith! No problem at all, it shall be arranged," laughs Turokal.
  
  "No, no, no. You see, money doesn't mean anything to me. The existence of your little cult also creates some problems for me. Therefore it's only natural that there should be some considerable benefits for me if I were to allow it to exist."
  
  "Doesn't the entire world run on gold crowns? Eh...I don't really understand what kind of benefits my lord has in mind..." It seems the priest isn't capable enough to think up anything good by himself, so you will have to spell it out to him. What do you have in mind?
  
  Fame: At least people are now capable of distinguishing the esteemed you from the other common knight rabble. (90)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > spread your name far and wide.
  Since the priest just looks at you confused, you'll have to elaborate further. "Doesn't every religious order not have one or two legendary stories associated with them? Why not make the knights of the Golden Sun, the main heroes in it? How we go on a journey to slay an evil demon and save countless innocents, for example."
  
  "B-But my lord, those legends recorded in our holy books about the brave heroes chosen by the heavens, are all based on real historical events. We didn't just make them up when it suited us," says Turokal. "Besides it must be about something that happened long ago so that nobody can verify it... I mean so that we can look at the events from an objective viewpoint."
  
  "Oh... it seems the monkey values 'historical accuracy', right?" asks Fariera. Then she sighs and smiles affectionately at the priest. "Such an honest and brave monkey, it can't be helped then. Soon a new legend will be added to your holy scriptures and it will be completely genuine, isn't that nice? It's about the pure priest who remained dedicated to the truth until his very last breath while he was brutally tortured and executed by an evil knight order..."
  
  "What? Y-You can't do this..." squeals the priest, while he almost wets his pants.
  
  "Of course not, the 'heavens' will surely smite me for my foul deeds. I'll eagerly await their wrath," do you laugh. Only peasants end up receiving the wrath of the heavens, somebody with adequate wealth and power is usually spared.
  
  But it seems the priest is going to give up on the chance to become a martyr for his faith and begins to wail loudly. "Iiii! Wait! I have suddenly received a revelation of the heavens! The order of the Golden Sun has saved us all! By... by slaying... the evil... the monstrous," stammers the priest, while his eyes swim around. He's doing his best to come up with something fitting on the spot, but it seems his imagination is somewhat lacking. "...man-eating ogre!"
  
  Seriously? Is this the best he could come up with? Anyway, the legend of you slaying the man-eating ogre soon spreads along with the faith of the Eternal Light.
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > Continue.
  [POV switch]
  
  So the weeks pass by, winter sets in and trade almost grinds to a halt. Fewer and fewer merchant ships travel the Valis now and the activity at the docks calms down. The winters in Valinor aren't that extreme and a river like the Valis surely would never freeze over, but the weather conditions are undoubtedly a lot harsher. The cold wind and the snow, drastically increase the risk any traveling ship or carriage faces. Of course, since fewer goods are moved around, they become more scarce and therefore more valuable. So there are still some fearless merchants, who would brave any danger in their hunger for more gold crowns.
  
  "Well, it's their greed, that keeps our business going. So I guess, I don't have much right to complain," sighs Ted, while he walks over the dock. He's a somewhat older man, wearing thick gray clothes, to protect himself against the cold. His face is full of wrinkles due to exposure to the elements. He has been a supervisor at the port of Valinor for over twenty years. His task is to supervise the loading and unloading of the docked ships and handle all the necessary paperwork. There's not that much paperwork, but as the only person who can read of his group, he has to handle it all. He gazes at the never changing Valis, while he wraps his arms around himself to keep him warm. Then he spots a lone merchant ship drifting on the water. Yes, it's drifting along and not sailing. There's no crew to see on the deck and there are multiple holes in the sail. It seems they must have encountered some kind of accident while traveling during the winter and ended up paying dearly for their greed. Although the crew is pitiable, the ship and its cargo are for the lucky finder. Even though he will have to relinquish a large part to the nobility, what remains will be for him and his men.
  
  "One man's loss is another man's gain," mutters Ted. Then he turns around and whistles at a few young men, who are hanging around at the wharf. Once they hear their boss call them, they immediately stop talking and focus their attention on him. Ted slowly nods in the direction of the ship and his subordinates quickly catch on, it's going to be a good day.
  
  Not long later, they sail towards the merchant ship, with a smaller albeit faster and more agile ship. Once they reach it, they climb aboard. Ted has witnessed more than one ship falling prey to pirates and bandits, so he instantly notices that there's something off. The crew is lying motionless on the deck of the ship, but there are no wounds. In fact, there's not even a single sign of a possible struggle! And from the looks of it, their cargo is intact too. While rubbing his hands, one of his subordinates eagerly walks forward, but he's stopped by Ted. "Keep your distance, there's something... not right."
  
  The men decide to trust their experienced boss and now that it has been pointed out, they notice the ominous atmosphere surrounding the ship. It's almost as if, death itself has cast a shroud over this vessel. Slowly Ted shuffles closer to one of the sailors, the man is partly covered by a piece of sail. As he nudges closer, one of the rats that's gnawing at the corpse jumps out and bites him on his hand. He beats the nasty pest away and inspects the bloody bite on his hand, luckily it doesn't seem to be serious. Then he notices something that makes his blood freeze. The corpse is covered in black spots, its no dirt... it's as if the skin began to decay all of a sudden. The face of the man is wretched in pain and despair, as he lies on the floor, strangely contracted. It's the herald of death... a plague!
  
  Ted stumbles backward and yells to his men, "Back to our ship! Quickly! Burn this cursed vessel, along with its cargo and crew!" Then he suddenly remembers his hand and the bite on it. He quickly hides his hand in his clothes, none of his subordinates has noticed it. "It should be okay, it's barely a scratch..."
  
  In a daze he watches the merchant ship being engulfed by the flames while he stands on the deck of his own ship, as they try to get as far away as possible. Slowly Ted closes his hands and utters a silent prayer, that everything will be alright.
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > Continue.
  [POV switch]
  
  "Ho Ho! Watch me boss!" laughs Bomboulos, while he takes aim with his crossbow. You and the other members of your knight order are in the wide courtyard of the castle, practicing shooting... at immobile targets that don't fight back. Well, that's why they call it practicing after all. And you're attentively watching him, not because he told you so or that you believe that he's going to hit the target this time. But because it will be the 100th arrow he's going to fire this afternoon. And you must admit, missing the same target from a measly twenty-meter distance, over and over again for a hundred times, can be considered an achievement in its own way.
  
  Then Bomboulos fires the crossbow and the arrow only misses the intended target by two meters this time, slowly but surely he's improving. Of course, you'll never take this bloke along to the battlefield and entrust your life to his shooting skills. Furious Bomboulos throws his crossbow away and stretches his hand out. Immediately a nearby servant passes along the next loaded crossbow, while another servant takes the throwaway crossbow from the ground and reloads it. Obviously, if he had to reload it himself there would never be a hundred attempts in the first place. "No worries boss, the next one will hit! I'm certain of it!"
  
  You're not exactly worried, but since he's probably going to miss again, you quickly lose interest. You slowly walk towards Fariera and Tyrwill who are talking and occasionally cheering Bomboulos on. Hallas has disappeared again, judging by the number of dead bodies in the gutter, he's busy doing his thing.
  
  Then a servant rushes towards you, with a panicked look on his face. "Your Highness! It's terrible! A true disaster, of unseen proportions!" Of course, his agitated screams disturb Bomboulos concentration and he ends up missing again. But this time he isn't going to waste any time blaming the servant for that since it seems to be an emergency.
  
  Bomboulos goes pale and begins to tremble, as he's beginning to fear for the worst. "A-A d-disaster? D-Don't tell me... that we have run out of cookies!" Well to some a cookie shortage can be regarded as a disaster, it's a matter of priorities.
  
  "No lord Bomboulos, it's not that bad, we still have more than enough cookies. I meant disastrous for Valinor," explains the servant, while he eases his worries. All good and well, but since Valinor belongs to you, any possible disasters are your problems too. So you gesture the servant to continue and Bomboulos to shut up for a moment.
  
  "Multiple people have contracted a strange sickness in the port area. Judging by the similar symptoms so many patients have in such a short timespan, we fear it might be a... plague," reports the servant, while he falls on his knees. "We have tried to isolate them as best as we could, but it's hard to tell who's already infected and who's not."
  
  If there's one thing you don't wish to see in a medieval world with its unreliable doctors, it's definitely a plague.
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > Do you know where it came from?
  "It's total chaos at the dock area at the moment and none of the patients has any idea when they contracted the plague, so it's practically impossible to guess who got infected first. At first, we suspected that one of the foreign trading ships brought it in. But not many have visited Valinor the past few weeks, and none of them are particularly suspicious. Besides one of them was looted clean by bandits and when the supervisor tried to salvage what was left, an accidental fire completely destroyed it. So it's even more unlikely the plague entered Valinor that way. So it's probably the fault of some wandering vagabond, but in all likelihood, he has already succumbed to the plague. And one dead beggar more or less on the streets during winter isn't that noticeable."
  
  Well, if you're not certain who's responsible, there'll always be a homeless beggar available to use as a scapegoat. It's the best way to satisfy the public, but you would prefer to know the truth.
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > What are the symptoms?
  "It's not exactly clear at the moment, Your Highness," says the servant. "But weakness, high fever, abdominal pain and black spots due to internal bleedings, seem to be the common symptoms. Some of the patients are already in a bad state, due to these severe symptoms. So we can likely conclude the disease is... fatal."
  
  Well, there goes your hope that it would only be a minor flu, three days in bed and you're healthy again. Of course, that's still lethal to the weak and poor, but it would have been far less of a concern for you. Unfortunately, it sounds like this disease can also be a threat to the rich and powerful.
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > Is it that much of a problem?
  A few dead peasants more or less shouldn't be that much of a problem, especially during winter. Of course, you're not heartless, and you'll order a few blokes from the city guard, who probably have nothing better to do, to clean up the corpses. But it seems that such minimum effort measures, won't suffice this time.
  
  "Your Highness, there are already over a hundred people infected. At this rate, the possible casualties can number in the tens of thousands!" yells Orlag, who suddenly pops up. "In the past whole cities got devoured by plagues such as this, It's a very serious problem!"
  
  So leaving it alone, doesn't seem like a possible option.
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > bring you to the quarantine!
  On your command, your knights and soldiers gather and prepare to head towards the quarantine. But then you receive a message, that a group of mysterious visitors has arrived. Although you don't have any time to receive a bunch of clowns at your doorstep, it seems they're not completely unrelated to your problem.
  
  There's over twenty of them, dressed in morbid black robes. They all wear a strange white mask, that completely covers their faces. There's not a single symbol or carving on the masks, the flat surface gives off an eerie impression. Each one of them carries a large longbow and a quiver, filled with black arrows, on their back. They look like a group of faceless grim reapers.
  
  Orlag walks beside you and begins to spout some trivia. "They are called 'the Silent Watchers' and they are an order of specialized professionals that deal with plagues and other infectious diseases."
  
  "They don't really look like doctors."
  
  "When I said 'deal', I didn't mean 'heal', Your Highness. The most efficient way to combat a plague is by quickly cleaning up the infected people... from a safe distance. So it can be prevented from spreading further. To put it in order words, they shoot everybody down that's likely to be infected or that tries to flee a quarantined zone. They never show a shred of mercy, because the one person they let escape may infect a thousand others. In order to not get attached to anyone they might have to dispose of, they wear those faceless masks and almost never speak. They only watch, ever vigilant."
  
  "Well, what a nice and friendly lot," says Fariera. "A bunch of cowardly killers, if Hallas were present he would have recruited them already."
  
  "Please don't be mistaken, they've completely dedicated themselves to their duty. Every member is prepared to commit suicide if they ever were to get sick. Also, they never wear any metal armor, all their clothes and equipment can be burned if it were ever necessary," says Orlag.
  
  Then you arrive before the watchers and the one at the front, presumably their leader, steps forward. "Greetings lord Xalendar we have come to aid you and the knight order of the Golden Sun, during their darkest hour. I'm the Beholder, the leader of the Silent Watchers. We'll curb the plague and save those who still can be saved."
  
  Just as you begin to wonder if they are also soothsayers as a side job, the Beholder speaks again. "A plague has broken out in a village to the north, so my order immediately mobilized in order to deal with it as soon as possible. Unfortunately, a traveling merchant who couldn't see reason broke through our blockade and has likely arrived in this city by now."
  
  "So this whole mess is their fault! They should clean it up by themselves without bothering us!" yells Tyrwill.
  
  "Rest assured, my lady," says the Beholder. "We'll spare no effort to cleanse this nightmare from this unfortunate city. There's no need for any of you to exert yourselves or risk any danger, please leave everything to us."
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)
  
  > Okay, you can go and take care of it.
  "We shall not fail you, my lord!" assures the Beholder you while he makes a polite bow. It makes sense to leave this to the professionals.
  
  "Then everything is solved, let's go back and have a party!" cheers Bomboulos and together you all head back.
  
  Then the Silent Watchers begin their attempt to purge the disease. At first, they're quite successful and it seems they'll be able to swiftly eradicate it, but then the plague keeps resurfacing more and more frequently. As more citizens get infected, the contaminated area gradually expands and eventually, the whole city is placed under lockdown. In order to combat the ever-increasing treat more efficiently, the Silent Watcher begin to work together with the garrison and your personal guard. Unfortunately, they seem to have been less careful than the Silent Watchers when handling the plague and soon there's an outbreak amongst the soldiers of Lorimur. Fear and chaos spread through their ranks, destabilizing the situation even more. The captain of your personal guard even has to resort to executing some of his subordinates in an attempt to maintain order.
  
  Although you and your friends try to isolate yourselves from the downward spiral of madness, in the end, it reaches even the high and mighty. After a night of eating and drinking, you wake up and feel sick. Soon you are diagnosed to have the same symptoms and the Silent Watchers appear before you, in order to clean you up. Of course, they fail, they're cut to pieces by your personal guard, or what still remains of it. "Nobody touches His Highness! We'll follow you to the gates of hell!" yells Dovar.
  
  Well, their loyalty is admirable, but this time they follow you to hell for real. A week later, you pass away and your guards follow you. Well not immediately, they first have to work themselves through your 'To kill list' With over four-hundred names of people you didn't like. The mighty never pass away alone and unavenged!
  
  The end...
  
  Fame: The minstrels sing tales of your deeds without your financial support. (130)
  Popularity: Most peasants speak about you in a positive light, no bribing required. (50)