Dragon Age: The Last Court

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NHZnwAf.png">]''An opportunity'' "It'll be difficult to deliver in time," the Guildmistress muses. "But look at what she'll pay. I didn't know numbers went that high." More importantly, this commission could generate more. Fads drive the high families of Val Royeaux like a sheepdog does a flock. When the glassworkers learn about the work, they grumble. "Can't be done," some insist. "Not without working us to the bone. Not that that'll stop them." [[Limit the glassworkers' freedoms]] It's the only way to complete the job on time. [[Turn down the commission]] The glassworkers are already worked to the bone. [[Deliver a lesser work]] There will be other commissions. Perhaps you can keep the client on the hook; reel her in another time.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/K8ja7ho.png">]''A favor'' He bows, deeply. "I'm just passing through, (if: $gender is "female")[Lady $name](else:)[Lord $name]. I assure you I've no intention of involving you in the troubles of Circle and Chantry. I just want something to eat, a night's sleep, and no trouble. I'm even prepared - through gritted teeth - to answer questions about my sibling." Will you make him welcome, or turn him away? [[Grant him hospitality]] Who would know more about the chantry's recent troubles than a templar? [[Cast him out]] Now the Templars have abandoned the chantry, what authority do they have? Brutes with swords.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/K8ja7ho.png">]''The traveller'' "An honor, your Grace," he says. "Don't worry, I'm not here recruiting. I've business elsewhere, but I could do with a roof over my head and a warm meal for once. I can pay for my board with news of the places I've passed through, or - reluctantly - with tales about the antics of my sibling, who has more fame than I do, though less sense." Will you make him welcome, or turn him away? [[Welcome him]] The Maker knows his order receives little gratitude. "A Warden never brought good news," it's said. [[Turn him away]] Wardens always want something. Recruits. Arms. A dangerous, sinister service they'll never explain.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/tEUyNff.png">]''Thieves!'' The Acerbic Dowager's ladies-in-waiting tremble behind her, their eyes red from tears. Before she approached you, the Dowager satisfied herself that they weren't responsible. A hasty investigation reveals that hers are not the only valuables to have gone missing. Thieves have stolen glittering works of glass and silver that were under your protection. The crime must be answered. [[Tell your chevalier-commander to track them down]] Your guards are eager to restore their honor. Will they remember to conduct themselves appropriately? [[Pursue them yourself]] This will take a sharp mind and a delicate hand.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/bk71oRj.png">]''Well-informed'' You paid close attention to Hawke's escapades in Kirkwall. Change comes like an angry wind, and those who watched Kirkwall could see which way it would blow. When the Mage-Templar war began, it did not come as a surprise. The Abbess steps neatly away as your guards close in. 'Carver' panics. "Your Grace, wait! I can be of use!" He cries. Will you make him welcome, or turn him away? [[Free the imposter]] He can go - just as soon as he shares whatever secrets he wheedled from the rest of Orlais. [[Imprison the imposter]] He can rot in the dungeon. A taste of Serault justice.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0566Jup.png">]''The Glassblowers' Anger'' The glassworkers are a temperamental lot. Valued, privileged, but far too valuable to allow from their cushioned cage. They know they are the source of Serault's fortunes. Sometimes that gives them ideas. The ovens are cold. The chimneys are still. Crossed glass swords hang over the glassworks' gates: a sign that the guild have downed tools. Their complaints, as ever, are numerous. [[Make an example of someone]] One of the more outspoken, but less skilled, members of the guild. [[Grant leniency]] Hear their complaints. Bow to the least objectionable. Smile while you do it. [[Delay a decision]] Grant the Guildmistress and the ringleaders an audience, but promise them nothing.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7wQpGw5.png">]''Wolvers of the river'' The Guildmistress throws up her hands. "No ash, no glass! It's as simple as that. Something has to be done about these pirates." Serault's recent prosperity has attracted predators. Pirates have begun to prey on vessels travelling up the river. Several of the lost ships carried soda ash, which the glassmakers need to practice their craft. The Smiling Guildmistress appeals for your intervention, as does the Dashing Outlaw. You ask the Outlaw what her interest is. "Well it's your river," she says. "Just thought you'd be interested." You point out it's your forest, too, and that doesn't stop her swanning about like she owns it. She laughs. "All right. Let's say I don't need the competition. And I don't like getting my feet wet." [[Tighten the policing of the river]] Search boats. Require legitimate travellers buy writs of passage. Chase down vessels that can't prove their business. Pay for all of it with increased tolls. [[Hire mercenaries and lay a trap for the river-pirates]] A few fat merchant-barges, their holds stuffed with armed men of cruel intention and ill-temper... [[Wait them out]] There's little you can do. The pirates vanish at the first sign of danger. //You will be able to take a decision on the river-pirates later.//

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1s1R6Mn.png">]\ (if: $dignity is > 45)[''Perfectionism'' You feed him some little-known Seraultine folklore, and he scrabbles for a quill "Yes, yes, that's good!"(set: $dignity to $dignity + 2) When you ask if the ballad is almost finished, he grumbles "a work of art is never completed, only hurried out the door to satisfy an impatient patron!" and stamps off.]\ (else:)[''A moving target'' You describe an incident of picaresque historical color that should be good for a verse or two. "That's good stuff," he says. "I can use that." You ask when he will finish the ballad. He gives you a level stare. "When will I //finish// it? When will I finish the comprehensive story of Serault and her spirit? When will I finish that?" Yes. "I don't know. Things keep happening."] [[You cross into his erstwhile guardian shortly thereafter|The Kindly Knight]] The Kindly Knight is an elderly knight who has lived in Serault for many years and knows its history, laws and customs better than anyone. He is the uncle of the Wayward Bard. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) (set: $bard to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/bk71oRj.png">]\ (if: $cunning is > 25)['' Eyes on the ground'' The Abbey's priests travel across Serault wherever they are needed. They hear the plights of pauper and baron; merchant, miller and thief. The Abbess passes on the choicest pieces of information; or at least the ones she chooses to share. [[Invite the Abbess to become your counselor]] She brings with her the Chantry's wisdom. And, importantly, its authority.]\ (else:)[''The secrets of the confessional'' The Abbess accompanies you on a walk along the battlements, above the reach of prying ears. When one of Serault's elite wishes to discuss the state of their soul, they go to the Abbess. She is too discreet to reveal their secrets, of course, but she alludes carefully to a number of delicate situations you hadn't known about. [[Invite the Abbess to become your counselor]] She brings with her the Chantry's wisdom. And, importantly, its authority.] (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NHZnwAf.png">]\ (if: $prosperity is > 35)[''Bounty''(set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) Her smile is confident, like a cat full of cream. She counts six intriguing facts off her fingers. Together, they point to something larger. Something you can use. ]\ (else:)[''Nothing but wind'' She talks at length about supply and demand, and the guild's faceted politics. It's an attempt to hide the fact that she doesn't have much of interest to tell you. The longer you have to listen to her soft, purring voice, the more annoying it becomes.] [[Invite the Guildmistress to become your advisor]] You could use a smile with a knife hidden behind.... (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nnOUHqE.png">]\ ''A new advisor'' "Why, I'd be honored, of course! I will endeavor to provide wise counsel. Times may change, but some wisdom is timeless, eh?" His grey head wags with delight. [[In the morning, you find an old acquaintance in the Great Hall|The Cheery Baron]] He's smiling as if he's just eaten an impudent peasant. That's possible, actually. There are stories. (set: $knight to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/JeL9JNe.png">]\ ''Atop the Tower of Lights'' The wind tugs at your hair. Even at this height, it carries the smokes of Serault Town – the distant reek of the glassblowers' workshops. You come here to remind yourself who you are, and what this sweet land is to you. //You can always rewind back to the previous page by clicking the arrow on the top left corner. You can also forward yourself to your most recent choice by clicking the other arrow that appears when you rewind backwards.// [[Look west, to the Tirashan Forest]] Across the river, a rugged rush of deep, deep green. [[Look east, to Serault Town]] A thriving river port. The heart of your realm's wealth. If only it were better managed. [[Look down, at the Chateau below]] The Tower of Lights is the highest point in the Chateau. [[Go back down]] Enough looking, enough dreaming. To work. //Leave the tower when you're ready to continue.//

<img src="https://imgur.com/1eu43jP.png"> ''Prologue: The Edge of the World'' You're a young ruler. But you've been here long enough to set your stamp on the Marquisate. What have you accomplished in your time so far? //There are three Attributes: Freedom, Prosperity, and Dignity. They are used to determine your ending, and occasionally to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Attributes below your Skills.// //You can choose one starting advantage for Serault.// [[Freedom]] Liberty and tolerance. High Freedom means your peasants and townsfolk are better-treated, and serve more from love, less from fear. [[Prosperity]] Wealth and stability. High Prosperity may be less glamorous, but it's a means to an end. [[Dignity]] Pride, honor, order. High Dignity makes Serault better respected by your neighbors, and keeps your nobles happy.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Tez2qxl.png">]\ ''The Plainspoken Seneschal'' "Firstly, your Grace, last night's winds blew over an apple tree in the courtyard. It smashed half the windows in the Great Hall. Glass everywhere." "Secondly, we've a visitor. From Val Royeaux." He gives you a meaningful look. Visitors from the heartlands are rare this far west. "She says she'll only speak to you. Actually, she said 'I don't deal with peons, peon. Fetch me someone important before I lose my patience.' I'd have thrown her in the dungeons, but frankly she scared the crap out of me." [[Let's see what mystery the eastern roads have brought|Prologue: An Unexpected Visitor]] Hopefully not a plague this time. (set: $seneschal to "plainspoken") (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1s1R6Mn.png">]\ (if: $freedom is > 35)[''A pleasant evening'' "I'm made for better than this, you know. And so are you! Serault should be at the heart of the Game, like she used to be. You ought to stand at the Empress' shoulder. And me? I should be bathing in a tub of warm Fereldan whiskey while the prettiest maidens of Val Royeaux whisper filthy, filthy suggestions in my ear".(set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) "Instead I'm here, with you, drinking this. I don't even know what this is. No, don't throw it away! Great Maker, your Grace, if it doesn't fight back you drink it. I'll not abide waste."]\ (else:)[''Some explaining to do'' "Well. That must have been a good evening, because I'm up here, and my trousers are down there. Don't worry. I'm sure your clothes will turn up soon.(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) "What are we doing in the chantry, anyway? There's nothing to drink, here. I say. Is that the Abbess arriving? Ah. And the choir."] [[Ask him to compose a new verse glorifying Serault]] The //Seat of the Stag// is his great, unfinished work. A hundred-odd stanzas of patriotic rhyme. Sometimes he sings the latest version at feasts, rewriting verses as he goes. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Nr0SkP3.png">]\ ''Case: The Missing Merchant'' You track the merchant down to an ill-reputed house on Candles Street, where he has been indulging his fondness for contracted affection, strong wine and certain herbs from the depths of the Applewoods. Your guards drag him before you. He makes a hoarse apology. "I may have over-indulged, your Grace. You know what they say: 'There is no guilt in Serault'." You demand to know what he means. "Only that no one cares what happens here," he stammers. "A man - or woman! - can indulge their vices in Serault without worrying that word of them will get back home." [[Send the fool away]] You've got the tints. That's what matters. [[Seize his cargo]] No guilt, eh? Then so be it!

''Serault fears no-one. Not even Templars.'' You condemn Carver for the templars' renunciation of the chantry and banish him before your court. Your courtiers applaud. Templars are not loved, here. Many remember what the order did to your ancestor. He might have been abomination, but he was still Serault. He deserved better. [[Was he truly the Champion's brother? You suspect you will never know|Prepare for the Divine 1]] You brush the Templar away from your thoughts. You have a massive feast to plan for. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/GDdbLZG.png">]\ ''Chapter 1: The Herald'' //"Serault is not blessed in her neighbors. They are pompous, venal, dull or mephitic. Except for one, who is all four."// - the Shame of Serault It's rare for a herald to arrive in Serault - most business goes east to the Heartlands. But, against the odds, here one is, proudly sporting his master's livery. What is his business? [["Sad news, your Grace..." the herald exclaims]] "Your beloved relative -" and here he says an entirely unfamiliar name, "- has passed away. Please! Master your grief! Their end was peaceful. Mostly peaceful." [["My master recently visited the Empress' court..." he begins]] Grant him an audience and listen to his boasts. [[After speaking to him, a maiden of your court begs a moment of your time]] She has been talking with the herald. Pink with nerves, she blurts "I know your Grace plans to hold a tournament soon, but...would it not be better to hold a //dance//?" Other youths of the court hover nearby, pretending - very badly - that they aren't listening. (if: $health is > 80)[(set: $health to 100)]\ (else:)[(set: $health to $health + 20)]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/q0ucQxX.png">]''Chapter 2: Glass'' //"I would rather have been born a glassblower. Unburdened by responsibility or freedom. Prized like a peacock. My days lost in hypnotic intricacies of rainbowed glass."// - the Shame of Serault Glass is the foundation of Serault's wealth. Members of its glassworkers guild are privileged prisoners: valued, well-treated, and watched like jewels on velvet. Their Smiling Guildmistress has brought an important matter before you. Which is it? [["A commission! A sizeable commission."]] A noble of Val Royeaux, her name festooned with titles, wants a precisely-detailed set of stained glass windows. And she wants them soon. [[A shortage of soda ash]] "Our suppliers won't brave the river for fear of pirates. There are more black flags than white ones on the river, these days." [["Your Grace, bad news. Crossed glass swords hang over the glassworks' gates."]] You sigh. The glassworkers have rebelled and are refusing to work. Again. (if: $health is > 80)[(set: $health to 100)]\ (else:)[(set: $health to $health + 20)]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nnOUHqE.png">]\ (if: $scholarship is > 25)[''A history lesson'' You meet him in your solar, where a scurrying page brings wine and a bowl of nuts fresh from the Applewoods. The Knight sets upon them with the nutcracker. Satisfying cracks and sprays of shell accompany his lecture.(set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) His knowledge is fathomless, but old. Still, it's a rare mistake that hasn't been made before. Serault's fields are furrowed with old feuds, lost promises, and political comprise. Those who do not learn from the lessons of the past...]\ (else:)[''A morass of facts and figures'' The Knight accompanies you on a walk through the chateau. Through chromatic columns of light that lean from its windows. Past hurrying servants who bow as you pass. You slow your usual brisk pace to accommodate his limp. He expounds at length, but not a thing he says pertains to the current century. There are some general lessons to be learned, you suppose, but little that's directly relevant.] [[Ask the Kindly Knight to become your counselor]] Few in Serault are as well-read as he. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Tez2qxl.png">]\ ''The Hesitant Seneschal'' "Last night's storm shattered several windows in the great hall. I'm led to understand that repairs will not be straightforward." "More urgently, a visitor has arrived from Val Royeaux. She said she would deal only with you. When I pressed regarding her business, she asked if I would like to be turned inside out, and said that if so she would be happy to oblige. I suspect her of..." he lowers his voice, "...magery. I counsel you to deal with her carefully. The future of Serault could be at stake." [[Let's see what mystery the eastern roads have brought|Prologue: An Unexpected Visitor]] Hopefully not a plague this time. (set: $seneschal to "hesitant") (set: $cunning to $cunning + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DmbeLtK.png">]\ ''The pride of the Marquisate'' With the spoils from border skirmishes, you've furnished the chateau and held tournaments for the entertainment of your vassals. When wandering philosophers sow sedition, you deal with them harshly. (if: $gender is "female")[The bards call you the Glass Rose of Serault: deadly, beautiful, adored, dreaded.]\ (else:)[The bards call you the Glass Sword of Serault: deadly, handsome, adored, dreaded.] [[Yet many challenges lie before you]] The fate of the land is in your hands. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 30) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 50) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 30)

''The coin of the realm'' He gives up his secrets easily, desperate to win your mercy. A priestess' indiscretion. The hidden truth behind a merchant's success. The name of a noble family concealing their son's apostacy. [[What is Orlais, if not a web of hidden truths?|Prepare for the Divine 1]] You ban the trickster from your realm and soon forget him. You have a massive feast to plan for. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/6sdw2Mu.png">]\ ''Tireless work'' When the Cheery Baron levied taxes three times in one year, you summoned him to account for himself. They say you walk hooded among the populace, seeking injustice and protecting the common folk. You don't. But they say you do. In the inns and market-places, they wonder if you might be the one to bring change to Serault. [[Yet many challenges lie before you]] The fate of the land is in your hands. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 30) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 30) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 50)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/JeL9JNe.png">]\ ''Dappled with gemmy light'' You descend the steep spiral staircase, through shafts of topaz and ruby light from the stained glass in the windows. This Tower was built to be the heart of the Shame's heliograph network - a web of towers communicating by mirror-flash. Another grand scheme that came to nothing. //You can save your game in three different slots at the bottom of the page. To load a save, click the slot that shows a circle instead of "Empty".// [[You sit on your throne of stained glass|Before you begin...]] The High Seat of Serault, a testament to your house's lost grandeur...

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/L2ql5lX.png">]\ (if: $woodswise is > 25)[''Replete''(set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) The hunting's good. A fleet doe. An outraged boar. Two pheasants, stupid and fat. The Baron is in an effusive mood as you make your weary way back to his hall.]\ (else:)[''Poor sport''(set: $health to $health - 5) The deer in his woods are understandably canny. You catch nothing more than a glimpse of rustling bracken. The Baron is surly, but you pry what you can from his grumbles.] [[Invite the Baron to become your counselor]] He's a firm hand, and his soldiers will be useful - wily hunters and grim veterans every one. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0miksPu.png">]\ ''A new friend'' The sorceress grins. "It is a delight to deal with someone //reasonable// at last. You would not believe the fools I have had to endure at court. The laws of courtesy are so inconvenient: do not set fire to this chevalier, do not encase that baroness in a block of ice... How are we supposed to get through the day?" "Serault is more to my tastes. Rugged. Confident. Stark. Intriguing. Perhaps you will show me more of its virtues, your Grace." You explain that, to those who live here, Serault is a 'she', not an 'it'. The sorceress grins. "I like her more and more." [[The Scornful Sorceress leaves the room; she's given a wide berth|Prologue: Broken Glass]] What would an agent of the Empress want with Serault anyway? (set: $morrigan to "welcomed") (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 5)

''Indiscretion'' Your servants bring smoked venison, steaming on long green beans and piled with sweet cranberries. Carver eats like a wolf. A rich wine loosens his tongue, and between gulps he tells you about the schism between the templars and the chantry. When he leaves the next morning he is tight-lipped, fidgeting with the reins of his horse. He knows he said more than he should. [[Was he truly the Champion's brother? You suspect you will never know|Prepare for the Divine 1]] You brush the Templar away from your thoughts. You have a massive feast to plan for. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

''A warm welcome'' 'Carver' begs for mercy. You have none. Your guards drag him down to the cells under the Tilted Tower, where the stone walls creak and the rats scurry. Let him try his tricks on them. Serault is spared his schemes, and the lords and ladies of her high houses praise your judgement. [[May they remember Seraultine justice is sharp as glass|Prepare for the Divine 1]] You brush the impostor away from your thoughts. You have a massive feast to plan for. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/dS9cRS9.png">]\ ''The Shame of Serault'' Your great-grandfather - brilliant, murderous, generous, romantic, ruthless. Mage, apostate, abomination. He brought disgrace on the Marquisate of Serault. Even his name is forgotten: they call him the Shame. For three generations your ancestors dared not show their faces in Val Royeaux. The glass-antlered Mask of Serault, your family's most prized possession, has been held far away in the Grand Cathedral, where the Divine herself holds it until your family is deemed fully worthy of redemption. //You can check the state of your affairs in the Chronicle, located below your Health.// [[You reflect from atop the Tower of Lights|Atop the Tower of Lights]] It has the best view in the whole Marquisate. [[You already know enough of the world to set your plans in motion|Intermission]] You are your mother's heir. She prepared you for this. //Skip the prologue.//

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Nr0SkP3.png">]\ ''The game is afoot'' A good ruler cultivates sources of information regarding every part of their realm. Whatever has happened to this merchant, you will find him. [[Send the guard across the Bridge of Masks|Case: The Missing Merchant]] If he is in town, he will be found.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/bk71oRj.png">]\ ''A new advisor'' She seems surprised at the offer, and there is sadness in her smile. "I will miss my beautiful abbey, and the sweet chanting of my novices. But of course I will serve. We will be shepherds, and Serault our lamb. We shall see her to sunlit pastures. We shall stone the wolves who threaten her." [[As you take your leave, you hear a bard's melody|The Wayward Bard]] So, he's back in town again after all. (set: $abbess to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/L2ql5lX.png">]\ ''A true ally'' "Marvellous idea! Bloody marvellous! You and me, we can make Serault everything she was meant to be. Strong. Independent. Proud." His thick finger stabs the table with each word. "When I look at you, I see a bit of me looking back. Only a bit, mind. There's a lot more of me than there is of you. But don't worry, we'll fatten you up," he laughs. "Life's a swift flight through a narrow room, $name, and outside the night is cold. Eat. Hunt. Live. Love. That room's only as warm as you make it." [[In the early morning you summon the guildmistress once again|The Smiling Guildmistress]] The Smiling Guildmistress is the head of the Glassworks. Although she acts as an effective bridge between the Guild and the larger world, the isolating conditions imposed on the glass workers often lead them into conflict with the Guildmistress. (set: $baron to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s4K12Rh.png">]\ ''A new advisor'' "It would be an honor," she gives you a congratulatory smile, as if you'd finally come to your senses. "These are turbulent times, but together we can undo some of the damage of recent years." [[Later, you see three women coming along the gardens|The Elegant Abbess]] The Abbess is a member of the des Guenoles family and is the sister of the Muttering Banker. She forsook the life of nobility to join the Chantry. (set: $dowager to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NHZnwAf.png">]\ ''Up in the world'' She bows. "I would be happy to serve, your Grace. We will make Serault //gleam//." She's survived the pit of serpents that is the guild hierarchy for years. She's ready for something more. Your council, you suppose, is complete. However, a shrewd ruler also needs other allies in less... //official// positions. Thankfully, you have the right idea of just whom you ought to seek out. [[You recall why she's known as the Dashing Outlaw...|The Dashing Outlaw]] She won't be easy to find. (set: $guildmistress to "true")

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/yswi8Tl.png"> ''The Thousand-Windowed Castle!'' Your ancestors liked to exaggerate. There are three hundred and twenty-seven windows in the castle, and only half of those are glazed, now. Glass has always been the wealth of your family. //"Payment in Glass"// is the de Serault motto: the mirrored stag, your emblem. A remote place, but strong. The Chateau stands on an island in mid-river. The Bridge of Masks is the only way east to Serault Town; the Green Bridge is the only way west, to the forest. [[You continue to survey your domain|Atop the Tower of Lights]] You haven't ruled long, but you do know this: Serault is yours.

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/yswi8Tl.png"> ''Gold stone, red roofs'' Serault Town: as far west as an Orlesian can go and still be in civilisation. If you can call it civilisation. You love this place, but you know too well that it's not what it was before the Shame. This is the edge of the world. Beyond Serault Town is the Last River, and beyond the river, villagers, charcoal-burners, the wilderness. [[You continue to survey your domain|Atop the Tower of Lights]] It's nestled between rivers, hills and forests.

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/wbthVPW.png"> ''The Applewoods'' We call the near regions of the Talishan the Applewoods. The apples have interesting properties: astringent, intoxicating. It's a dangerous place, but beautiful. You need to cross the river to find the rarer herbs. Oh, and you'll need to go hunting, too, to find meat worthy of a Divine's entourage. [[You continue to survey your domain|Atop the Tower of Lights]] The Applewoods consist of gentle Greenwood, and the darker, farther Deepwoods.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/JeL9JNe.png">]''Pragmatism'' "I will arrange for more... straightforward replacements immediately, your Grace," the Smiling Guildmistress promises. Over the next few days, your servants clear away the broken glass and fit the clear, blank panes delivered from the glassworks. The new windows don't bathe your hall in a thousand colours as the old ones did, but they keep the wind and the rain out. The normal business of your court can resume. And just in time! That evening, your seneschal bursts into you chambers as you dine. "Your Grace! News!" [[A letter arrived, the bursting sun of the Chantry shining on its seal|Prologue: A Miraculous Opportunity]] Your hands tremble for a minute, but you don't think anyone noticed. (set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 5) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/tft2oSP.png">]\ ''A Miraculous Opportunity'' The message is from the Divine Justinia herself: fifth of her name, exalted servant of the Maker, supreme ruler of the Chantry. She is travelling to a peace summit, and her great Progress will bring her to Serault. 'We are eager to see,' the letter reads, 'whether Serault has redeemed her ancient Shame.' This is your chance to restore your realm's fortunes. You will hold the greatest feast in a hundred years: you //must// win the Divine's favor. Serault won't have a chance like this again. Which approach do you prefer? [[The way of the hand]] A gentle approach, to match the Divine's reputation for mercy. [[The way of the heart]] "Payment in glass," you murmur to yourself. [[The way of the whisper]] There is too much at stake; failure is not an option.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0miksPu.png">]\ ''An Unexpected Visitor'' Strokes of early sunlight push through the empty windows of your great hall and sparkle on the carpet of glass fragments that crunches underfoot. A woman waits for you. She wears road-stained travelling clothes and bears a staff of knotted wood. She makes no attempt to conceal her magery. She bows. "Greetings, your Grace." She places a letter into your hands and says, "I trust this will establish an understanding between us." It reads //"The bearer of this letter acts for the good of Orlais. She is to be granted any aid she requires. She is subject to no justice but my own."// Beneath shines the gold seal of the Empress. The woman speaks. Her accent is Fereldan. "I request access to your glassworks, your Grace, on a matter of importance to the state. I'm told they are the very best," She smiles, expectantly. [[Grant your permission to use the glassworks]] And offer her your hospitality: she can stay at the chateau. [[Send her away, the Empress' seal be damned!]] It will take more than a pretty seal to stamp the Empress' will on you. The sorceress is not welcome. Serault has been troubled enough by apostates.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/JeL9JNe.png">]\ ''Broken Glass'' You turn your attention to the broken windows of the hall. You can't conduct the Marquisate's business until the repairs are made. You summon the mistress of the Glassworker's guild. "We can make repairs, your Grace," she tells you, "but not without certain rare tints that were to be delivered this week. Unfortunately, the merchant transporting them appears to have gone missing..." [[Investigate the Case of the Missing Merchant]] You want your hall restored just as it was. No, better! [[Order replacements in plain glass]] You're too busy to trouble yourself with a delayed merchant. Undoubtedly he's drunk at a roadside inn, somewhere.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1CaA0fD.png">]\ ''The Court of Serault'' The de Serault family is far too scattered to count on; you need a proper group of counselors if you wish for the House of Glass to be thriving when Divine Justinia V comes for her visit - and, you expect, judgment. You spend the next few days talking to some of the most prominent members of your court. Perhaps some of them would welcome closer tiers to the High Seat? [[An older lady catches your eye|The Acerbic Dowager]] The Acerbic Dowager was once a scholar as she collected letters, journals, and edicts written by Orlais' emperors and empresses. She is known to be a direct and decisive counselor.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Tez2qxl.png">]\ ''Your Seneschal'' Your seneschal meets you at the bottom of the tower stairs. "I'm sorry to disturb your Grace, but two matters require your urgent attention..." What sort of counselor is he? [[Bold, but not subtle]] "...And I won't lie: one of them's bad but the other's bad and sarcastic." [[Cunning, but over-cautious]] "...one of them is a most delicate matter. I enjoin your Grace to tread carefully."

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Jg23rHS.png">]\ ''Much that glitters'' You could have hunted, you could have warred, you could have walked incognito among the peasants, you could have read up on your political philosophy. Instead, you built a foundation of gold on which a new Serault will rise. Good times are ahead. [[Yet many challenges lie before you]] The fate of the land is in your hands. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 50) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 30) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 30)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Nr0SkP3.png">]\ ''No one cares what happens here'' The merchant complains, until it's clear that you could have his head as well as his cargo. Suddenly silent, he shuffles away. Your new windows paint the hall in a thousand vital colours. The stag of Serault rears on the left, while on the right a blazing Andraste stands, masked in accordance with a local custom. They look magnificent. The next day is market day. The streets course with visitors. Peddlers rub shoulders with priests. Chevaliers ride past ragged vagabonds. Merchants bedeck their stalls with bright cloth. In your hall, your seneschal approaches with urgent news... [[A letter arrived|Prologue: A Miraculous Opportunity]] The bursting sun of the Chantry shining on its seal. (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0miksPu.png">]\ ''Unwelcome'' The sorceress' eyes narrow. Your guards step close, hands on their swords. She notes their number, their discipline, their loyalty. She bows. "Have it your way. When I see the Empress I will be sure to mention Serault's fathomless hospitality." She withdraws, her staff grinding on the broken glass as she goes. You suspect this isn't over... [[The Scornful Sorceress is seen leaving Serault hours later|Prologue: Broken Glass]] What would an agent of the Empress want with Serault anyway? (set: $morrigan to "scorned") (set: $freedom to $freedom - 5) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Nr0SkP3.png">]\ ''Restored'' You wave the merchant away. He leaves with the petrified expression of a man who has just realised what he said, and to whom. Your new windows paint the hall a thousand vibrant colors. The stag of Serault rears on the left; on the right a blazing Andraste stands, masked according to a local custom. They look magnificent. The next day is market day. The streets course with visitors. Peddlers rub shoulders with priests. Chevaliers ride past ragged vagabonds. Merchants bedeck their stalls with bright cloth. In your hall, your seneschal approaches with urgent news... [[A letter arrived|Prologue: A Miraculous Opportunity]] The bursting sun of the Chantry shining on its seal. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s4K12Rh.png">]\ (if: $freedom is < 35)[''Natural philosophy'' She strokes and coos over your gift. "Do you know why I like animals so much? They understand their place. Feed a falcon and it will hunt for you. Pet a cat and it will purr. "But a peasant will eat what he is given then take his master's food from the plate. He will return kindness with rebellion. It is a consequence of circumstance and breeding. But they are what they are."]\ (else:)[''The Dowager's sorrow'' "Thank you, my deer. The company of furred and feathered things is a solace to my loneliness. I miss my husband so. He was too good a man for this world. "He cared deeply for the small folk and their improvement. He even granted them voice in his counsel. But they are not equipped for it, poor things. Wilfulness flourished. Fields went untended. Order collapsed. And the meadows of our beloved Pastulaire were devoured by the forest."] [[Invite the Dowager to become your counselor]] She is accustomed to rule. Her counsel will be direct and decisive. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s4K12Rh.png">]\ ''The Acerbic Dowager'' "Peons," she remarks, "are experts largely in the matters of mud. I will seek their counsel when I require assistance with mud. Or " - and something ignites in her eyes - "in the matter of arson and murder." The Dowager's husband was a vassal of Serault... until he permitted his peasants too many liberties. Her home is a ruined haunt of outlaws now. Your mother gave her sanctuary in the Chateau. [[Flatter her with gifts]] She has a soft spot for animals. A swift merlin or soft-furred marten might improve her disposition. [[Listen to her tales of long-dead Emperors]] Three cups of Serault cider loosens her tongue. She was quite the scholar before she married, collecting letters, journals, and edicts written by Orlais' emperors and empresses.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/L2ql5lX.png">]\ ''The Cheery Baron'' This ferocious old monster fought by your mother's side against outlaw-clans and the elves of the Applewoods. They were close. There were rumors. [[Go hunting with the Baron]] People mistake his cheer for ignorance. They're wrong: nothing happens in his fief without him knowing, and he has a keen nose for intrigue. [[Attend one of his feasts]] He doesn't respect anyone who doesn't have appetites the rival of his own.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/bk71oRj.png">]\ ''The Elegant Abbess'' A comely Chanter always walks at her left hand, and a watchful shield-maiden in a green hauberk at her right. But no-one looks at them. Everyone looks at the Abbess. She rules the secluded Abbey of the Bans, where unorthodox Serault traditions coalesce with Andrastian worship. The Grand Cathedral would not approve, but it is very far away. [[Ask the Abbess about events in Serault]] Sin and salvation: the great secrets. [[Grant land to the Abbey]] The Abbey, with its white walls and rose-gardens, is always first in her heart.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nnOUHqE.png">]\ ''The Kindly Knight'' "Hello! Sweet Andraste, it's good to see you again. I swear you're taller every time." The Knight is smiling, but nervously. A pious man; a donor to the Abbey of the Banns; a loyal vassal, though his peers mutter that he's too gentle with the peasantry. He hasn't been the same since the death of his wife. [[Consult the Knight's expertise]] The Kindly Knight knows Serault's past better than anyone: ancient murders, lingering oaths, the disasters at the Green Bridge and the Bridge of Masks, even the enigmatic miracles of Masked Andraste. [[Ask for his help interpreting Serault's ancient laws]] Serault's legal system is a thicket of local custom, Marquisal precedent, and imperial decree. The Knight's scholarship will untangle it, His lenience will blunt its thorns.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NHZnwAf.png">]\ ''The Smiling Guildmistress'' She hasn't touched a crucible or worked the bellows in years. Managing the glassworkers' guild and its brilliant, fragile personalities takes up her time, now. Her glass sword rests awkwardly at her hip, the hilt spinning fractures of light across the floor. [[Ask her advice]] (if: (history:) contains "Order replacements in plain glass")[As a glassworker she can't leave Serault Town. But she can write letters. To clients, suppliers, other guilds...]\ (else:)[The guild is an isolated pocket of Serault, but she knows everything that goes on within earshot of its walls. And no merchant leaves it without being interrogated by her over dinner.] [[Discuss opportunities for profit]] The rest of Orlais might ridicule Serault, but they still want her glass.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1s1R6Mn.png">]\ ''The Wayward Bard'' He's playing that song again, the one about the Glass Thief. He'd better leave out the verse about your mother. The bard is of noble blood, just about: he's a nephew of the Kindly Knight. He comes and goes, but he can never stay away from Serault. [[Ask what he's heard about recent events]] He might not be quite the player of the Game he was, but he keeps his ear to the ground. [[Carouse with the Wayward Bard]] Fine food. Finer wine. Soft silks and gold thread. The attention of bright young things. These he cannot resist.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/4F3qRcH.png">]\ ''The way of the hand'' You will impress the Divine with Serault's lavish hospitality. [[You shall be the saviour of Serault!|Prologue: The Court of Serault]] You set yourself to governing Serault with a newfound purpose. //You have seven months until the Divine arrives.// (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DmbeLtK.png">]\ ''The way of the heart'' Serault's pride and her glory will win the Divine's favor. [[You shall be the saviour of Serault!|Prologue: The Court of Serault]] You set yourself to governing Serault with a newfound purpose. //You have seven months until the Divine arrives.// (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NMapW79.png">]\ ''The way of the whisper'' You will learn the Divine's secrets. She will favor Serault whether she wants to or not. [[You shall be the saviour of Serault!|Prologue: The Court of Serault]] You set yourself to governing Serault with a newfound purpose. //You have seven months until the Divine arrives.// (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5)

''Troubles for another day'' The world is just emerging from the Fifth Blight. There won't be another for decades, perhaps centuries. "Come back then," you tell Carver. He bows, his face impassive. He's used to it. Your courtiers commend your judgement. Serault has her own problems. And with the Divine due, the last thing the realm needs is to be dragged into one of the Wardens' injurious follies. [[Was he truly the Champion's brother? You suspect you will never know|Prepare for the Divine 1]] You brush the Warden away from your thoughts. You have a massive feast to plan for. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

'' Unfamiliar luxury'' You dine on fat partridge, simmering in a pot with sweet onions and pale beans. Then a plate of round cakes, peppered with poppyseed and laced with honey. Your cook has baked Serault antlers into their crusts. Carver isn't used to such kindness. "Serault has always been a friend to the Wardens," he says, nursing his steaming cup of spiced wine. "Your ancestor," he touches his nose, rather than say the name, "did important work for us. Vital work." Interesting. [[The Shame of Serault left many a mystery in his wake|Prepare for the Divine 1]] You brush the Warden away from your thoughts. You have a massive feast to plan for. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9gtwwiB.png">]\ (set: $name to (v6m-print: (prompt: "You were called...", "Marquis")))\ (if: $gender is "female")[''You are the Huntress'']\ (else:)[''You are the Hunter''] (if: $gender is "female")[The Huntress is valiant, charismatic, and skilled in the hunt. She cares little for books or schemes.]\ (else:)[The Hunter is valiant, charismatic, and skilled in the hunt. He cares little for books or schemes.] //You can check the meaning of your stats in the Codex, located above your character portrait.// [[You succeeded your late mother|Head of the House of Glass]] (if: $gender is "female")[The Marquise is dead. Long live the Marquise.]\ (else:)[The Marquise is dead. Long live the Marquis.] (set: $rulership to $rulership + 30) (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 20) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 50) (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 40) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 20)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/QcB3MnT.png">]\ (set: $name to (v6m-print: (prompt: "You were called...", "Marquis")))\ ''You are the Scholar'' (if: $gender is "female")[The Scholar is a little better at rulership. She is also learned, cunning, and has spent thirty years avoiding fencing lessons and hunting.]\ (else:)[The Scholar is a little better at rulership. He is also learned, cunning, and has spent thirty years avoiding fencing lessons and hunting.] //You can check the meaning of your stats in the Codex, located above your character portrait.// [[You succeeded your late mother|Head of the House of Glass]] (if: $gender is "female")[The Marquise is dead. Long live the Marquise.]\ (else:)[The Marquise is dead. Long live the Marquis.] (set: $rulership to $rulership + 40) (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 50) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 20) (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 20) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 30)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''A reputation for excellence''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) Day and night the glassworks smoke. A pall settles over the west bank where the oven-fires glow. Two endless strings of flat-bottomed boats arrive at the quay, carrying soda ash from down stream and quartz pebbles from up it. You complete the commission in time. The client is ecstatic. For a time, Serault glass becomes the talk of the capital. More commissions arrive, and the glassworkers have little rest.]\ (else:)[''Payment in glass'' They work in shifts, sleeping beside the glass-ovens to minimise wasted time. (if: $prosperity is > 30)[Petitions for leniency arrive at your hall from the glassworkers. It's not the appeals that concern you, but the whisperings.]\ (else:)[Petitions for leniency reach your hall. You ignore them. It's not the petitions that concern you; it's the muttering.] Some of the guild are beginning to question not only the current conditions, but the traditional ones.(set: $revolution to $revolution + 10) As hard as they toil, they cannot complete the commission in time. The client pays you every ounce of silver he promised, but does not return for more.] (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[That wouldn't be the end of the troubles at the glassworks|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10)

''A rare sight'' It hurts to pass up good silver, but there will be other clients. The glassworks stand quiet. The forges are cold. For the first time in weeks, the chimney-smoke over the West bank and the folk who live there glimpse blue sky. Glassworkers wander, at ease, in the streets. Some of them are even smiling. (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[That wouldn't be the end of the troubles at the glassworks|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10)

'' A time of strife'' You send the Guildmistress to negotiate. She moderates the client's expectations, and though they are disappointed you think you'll hear from them again. The Guildmistress returns with news from the capital, and rumors of the latest movements in the civil war. (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[That wouldn't be the end of the troubles at the glassworks|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)

(if: $dignity is > $peril)[''The law's long arm'' Three days later, your guard apprehend the thieves in a ramshackle riverbank tavern. The culprits were squabbling over getting their haul out of Serault, and forgot to keep their voices low. Their trial is swift, your justice firm. That should dissuade other criminals from similar foolishness.]\ (else:)[''A step too far''(set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) Your commander beams, flinging back the lid of the chest. Gold, glass and silver gleam inside. Some of it is yours; some of it isn't. her pursuit of the thieves was not subtle. You've already received complaints about their methods.]' [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] The wind blows cold. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(if: $cunning is > 55)[''From the horse's mouth''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) You corner the thieves in one of the leaning, close-packed houses near the Bridge of Masks. They surrender as soon as your soldiers beat down the door. The gang's leader, narrow and scarred, has already sold some of the treasures. He tries to placate you with information. Secrets pour from his lips like honey from a spoon. He hopes it will win him mercy.]\ (else:)[''You must have been only hours behind them''(set: $peril to $peril + 10)(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) When you enter the stable your informant identified you find nothing but trampled hay, signs of habitation, and three missing horses. Was that a snigger from your guards? They didn't like you taking over the investigation, and don't mind seeing you taken down a peg. Still, is hasn't been a waste. The thieves might still be at large, but you learned many things while combing Serault's underworld. Things you would never have learned in your high, bright hall.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] The wind blows cold. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders.

(if: $rulership is > 35)[''Blood in the water''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) Your guard-vessels see several successful engagements with the pirates, who melt away as suddenly as they appeared. That will teach wolves to think they can prey on lions. The new laws mean the river is less-travelled than of old, but safer.]\ (else:)[''Cat and mouse'' Whenever the river pirates see your new guard-ships on the water, they flee to hidden inlets and marshlands, creeping out again only when your swan-prowed vessels have passed. You'd rather have had a comprehensive engagement and broken their power, but the situation is at least improved while your ships are on the water.] (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the last issue to involve glass|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''Hook, line, sinker''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 20) Your ruse is a success. Your mercenaries board and take three vessels before word about the ploy escapes and the remaining pirates row downriver to find less inventive prey. River-trade swells, and the glassworkers' chimneys belch to life again.]\ (else:)[''Fruitless''(set: $peril to $peril + 5) Do the pirates have an agent in your troops? Or friends among the mercenaries? Someone, somewhere is talking and your trapped boats sail the length of the river unmolested. Worse, not all the mercenaries return home when their employment ends. Some linger, joining outlaw bands in the woods. At least the rivers are safe while your ships make their journey.] (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the last issue to involve glass|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''An example''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) The glassworker is young. She had talent and promise. That's important. It says that no-one is safe should they shirk their duty. Your soldiers pull her from her guild and escort her to the town gates, where she is proclaimed an outlaw. As a final gesture they take her one possession - her glass sword - and smash it. Its shards sparkle on the cobbles, green as cats-eyes. The glassworkers' resistance crumbles. Within the day, the sound of bellows can be heard and smokes coughs again from the chimneys. ]\ (else:)[''Dimmed''(set: $freedom to $freedom - 5) A sandy-haired youth chants slogans from the walls. You have your soldiers seize him, proclaim him an outcast, and drive him from the town. The resistance continues. You have deal with two more apprentices in the same way before the guild breaks. They return to work, but sluggishly. Their spirit is dented, but so is their pride, and their glass lacks its previous luster.] (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the end of the troubles at the glassworks|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)

''An impasse'' You feed them steaming partridge and an deceptively spicy red. As you dine, they detail their woes. At length. You learn a great deal about glass, trade, and the goings-on on the far bank of the river. You shake your head sympathetically. If only there was more you could do, you say. You understand, you do, but times are hard. The meal mollifies them, but they leave unsatisfied. A fraction of the glassworkers return to work, Most refuse. (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the end of the troubles at the glassworks|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0miksPu.png">]''The Scornful Sorceress'' The Empress' 'occult advisor' is rarely seen about the chateau. She spends most of her time conducting her mysterious research at the glassworker's guild, but occasionally your paths cross. [[You find her in the library, idly examining a history of your family]] She points at the charred stain where the Shame's name has been seared from your family tree. "Tell me about him."

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5Nw1snj.png">]\ ''The Dashing Outlaw'' Her laugh rings through the woodlands. She's a hero to the peasantry, despite taking rather more from the rich than she gives to the poor. The Outlaw is elusive, but a message delivered into the right hands will find its way to her... [[Unravel her artifice]] How does she vanish into thin air? How can she be in two places at once? How can she rob, waylay and murder, and still be beloved? [[Turn a blind eye to her crimes]] Serault has many dangers. At least you can talk to this one.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5Nw1snj.png">]\ ''Mutual interests'' You meet, hooded, at a crossroads while the woods whisper under a dark wind and the moon pours silver across the leaves. There, you agree terms. Her smile hides a dogged bargainer, hardly the careless idealist of the ballads. But your patience is as long, and when dawn comes you've a gang of celebrated bandits at your service. [[They point you towards a certain dwarf|The Purveyor of Teas]] The Purveyor of Teas is an associate of bards, smugglers, and revolutionaries, yet he rejects that he maintains such connections. The dwarf was exiled in the past from Orzammar. (set: $outlaw to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5Nw1snj.png">]\ (if: $woodswise is > 25)['' How does she do it?''(set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) The common folk think she's a mage. But a mage doesn't maintain alibis and lookalikes, fresh horses stabled in secret locations, and informants in every roadside inn the length of the Marquisate. As you unravel her secrets, you pick up a few things yourself...]\ (else:)[''Writing history'' The Outlaw wasn't born well enough to own a Bard, but she makes good use of minstrels and troubadours. The lesser part of what she does is banditry. The better part is showmanship: it's better to write the stories about you than to leave someone else to do it.] [[Recruit her as your accomplice]] It will be useful to have agents on both sides of the law. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/gtkxwN9.png">]\ ''The Purveyor of Teas'' "An exalted visitor! I am so pleased. So very, very pleased. Be seated here in this field-chair. No, no, this one. The other has been occupied by persons of low birth. Will you honor me by taking a little tea?" The Purveyor is an associate of smugglers, revolutionaries and bards. It's easy to see why his people exiled him from their homes below. But he has a certain rascally charm. [[Ask him about current events in Serault]] He hears everything. Well, everything illegal. [[Grant pardons for his associates]] "Some of my friends have been unwise in their choice of company," he says. "But must youthful follies blight their fortunes?"

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/gtkxwN9.png">]\ (if: $revolution is > 35)[''Just the facts'' You sip his steaming tea and listen, picking truth from flim-flam. Sometimes, he sprinkles his chatter with hints to his past. He claims to be a simple merchant, outcast from his home, but he knows too much about treasons, stratagems and toxins for that to be the whole truth.]\ (else:)[''Ulterior motives''(set: $revolution to $revolution + 10) He pulls back his sleeves, pours you both tea, and gossips flamboyantly. The secrets pour out so quickly it's hard to catch them all, but you know that half must be false. A cloud of smoke, to mask the activities of revolutionary friends? Or is he only trying to impress you?] [[Recruit him as your accomplice]] His singular talents are hard to come by outside of revolutionary cells, adder-nests, and the Empress' picnics. (set: $revolution to $revolution + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/gtkxwN9.png">]\ ''A pact'' He strokes the prongs of his beard, then shows you into a back room. Taking out a black clay pot and two plain pewter cups, he brews and pours you both an oily blue tea, swimming with leaves. It smells like damp, wormy earth. "Drink," he says. Where is his usual loquacity? He sips, grimacing. When both cups are empty, your throat burning from the caustic tea, he shakes your hand. "To business." [[You turn your attention to the local head hunter|The Silent Hunter]] A taciturn fellow, only recently in Serault's employ. (set: $teamaster to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TvCCoy7.png">]\ ''The Silent Hunter'' They say he killed a bear with a single arrow to the eye. They say he was the Empress' lover, once, in Val Royeaux. They say he was conceived on a night sacred to the Masked Andraste, and that he was born with strength, speed and cunning, but no voice. What does //he// say? Nothing at all. [[Accompany him on a midnight hunt]] You hear tell of forgotten spans of the woods. Of twilit riverbanks untrod by mortal feet, and rings of tall blue stones that were not raised by human hands... [[Send him into the woods to gather information]] You don't know who his sources are, or even if they're human. But he finds things no one else can.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TvCCoy7.png">]\ ''Discoveries'' Deep in the Applewoods, the oaks are scratched with lurid bandit-sign. A spring flows, red as copper, from the cleft of a bald hill. You climb it. The summit is pocked with lightning-scars. Wolves howl in council away among the trees. A yearning sound, like a prayer. The Silent Hunter cocks his head: a critic listening to an orchestra. [[Employ him as your bodyguard]] His eyes are sharp. And you can be sure he won't distract you with chatter. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TvCCoy7.png">]\ ''A broken promise'' He thinks about your offer for a long time, staring at his calloused, steady hands. Eventually, he stands, and bows. "When I left Val Royeaux I swore I would no longer be someone else's Shadow. But I will be yours, and Serault's." So he //does// speak. [[You leave the forest in the early hours, a string of rabbits over your shoulder|The Well-Read Pig-Farmer]] The hunt was a success. As you return alone, outside the Chateau's walls you run into the strangest peasant you've ever met. She nods at the prey you've just snatched from the forests of your domain. (set: $hunter to "true") (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Z4ppfMp.png">]\ ''The Well-Read Pig-Farmer'' "Na via lerno victoria, as they say in Tevinter. Of course there haven't been many victories lately, but if you read Issiker's account of the Valarian Engagements, there are some really intricate strategies - sorry, did you want to buy a pig?" She married well for a pig-farmer. She gets around. Her accent is Tevinter. What an interesting woman. [[Play a game of Archon with the Well-Read Pig-Farmer]] She admires wit even more than erudition, especially in a ruler. But a marquis, visiting a pig-farmer? It'll do your reputation no good at court. [[Listen to her tales of Tevinter]] She speaks of the grim facades of Minrathous' palaces, and the sorcerous intrigues that worm behind them...

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Z4ppfMp.png">]\ (if: $cunning is > 25)['' Standstill'' After two hours, neither of your magisters can reach the throne at the centre of the board. A stalemate. Not an uncommon result between two experienced players. The Pig-Farmer congratulates you on an invigorating game. "Gerrault says,// 'A ruler can employ scholars to teach them, soldiers to fight for them and bards to intrigue for them. But no one can think for them.'// He's right. Some have tried, but it never ends well." Is she speaking from experience?]\ (else:)['' Found wanting''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) She smiles apologetically, destroys your defence and sets her Magister on the throne in the centre of the board. Once your opponent has an Archon, the game is all but lost. You resign. Where did a pig-farmer learn that fiendish gambit - using the slave-sacrifice to open the way for her Black Divine? She's polite, of course. Deferent. But clearly she was hoping for sterner opposition.] [[Employ the Pig-Farmer as your secret advisor]] No one can know. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Z4ppfMp.png">]\ ''Back in black'' She listens to your offer. "I won't lie: I've missed politics. The knife-edge of it. The sharp play of power, like the sun shining on the wave-caps..." She wipes mud from her hand onto her skirts. "Very well. Let me tell you how we did things in the Magisterium," Her grin is tight as a gallows-noose. [[Day pass as you work with your allies, both at court and outside it|Chapter 1: The Herald]] Her Holiness will be here soon. (set: $pigfarmer to "true")

(if: $woodswise is > 45)[''The Greenwood beckons'' She leans down in her saddle as a low branch crosses the trail. "This reminds me of home," she murmurs, looking into the green, delving spaces between the trees. She shakes her head, suddenly angry. "How is it possible I am nostalgic for the Korcari Wilds, of all places? The heart is a treacherous thing, your Grace. Never trust it." She tells you of her homeland, the beasts that dwell there, and the things that are worse than beasts.]\ (else:)[''The Witch of the Wilds'' "I grew up somewhere like this," she tells you, looking thoughtfully at the knotted trees and narrow shafts of sunlight. "Somewhere wild and remote. Not remote enough, sometimes. I remember once, a band of Templars came hunting for my mother and I. They thought that they would put an end to the Witches of the Wilds." She smiles, grimly, and tells you what happened to them. It's not a pretty memory.] Only some time later are you be able to voice a question that had best avoid the prying eyes and ears of the court. [[Ask her about magic]] You meet her in the corridor late one night, returning to her room after her day's work. Her staff glows with a clear blue flame, picking out every drifting mote of dust. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0miksPu.png">](if: $scholarship is > 45)[''Not an easy tale to tell''(set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) You tell her stories you heard from your mother. The sorceress listens intently as the candles burn down, chuckling at the Shame's audacity. "I had heard of the Shame of Serault, of course, but I had no idea he was so //entertaining//. It must be nerve wracking to have that blood flowing in your veins." Her eyes are sharp. "To wonder if, one day, your ambition will turn out to be madness..."]\ (else:)[''Blood of the stag'' She listens carefully as the fire burns low and the shadows grow long. When you tell her of the Shame's fate - abomination, persecution, execution - she shakes her head. "Power is a difficult steed to ride. Not everyone can stay in the saddle." She studies you closely. Is she wondering if you're like him? Tainted with madness?] [[Ask about her mask]] Why doesn't she wear one? (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(if: $freedom is > 45)[''Half-truths'' She smiles at your enquiries. "These are the Empress' secrets, not mine. All I can say is this: I am trying to mend something, and Serault is the perfect place to do it. Both for its mastery of glass, and for its //discretion//," she pointedly stresses the last word.]\ (else:)[''Imperial secrets''(set: $revolution to $revolution + 10) She has little to say. "I am poor company this evening. The ovens were hot, glass is an intolerably wilful substance, and the glassworks are an unhappy place. I imagine they are what a Circle feels like. Gifted people, trapped in a cage." She snorts.] Only some time later are you be able to voice a question that had best avoid the prying eyes and ears of the court. [[Ask her about magic]] You meet her in the corridor late one night, returning to her room after her day's work. Her staff glows with a clear blue flame, picking out every drifting mote of dust. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Legacy'' You ask if she has children of her own. She does not answer. You ask about her parents, instead. She chuckles. "My mother is Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds. Aye, I know a thing or two about having a notorious ancestor, your Grace." You trade tales of your predecessors and their long shadows. Sometimes a burden, sometimes a boon.]\ (else:)[''A courtier's child yells at another''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) She looks at you with a half-grin, but her eyes are hard. She gestures at the children. "This is not a childhood I recognise," she says. "The games my mother encouraged were less innocent. She spent most of her time trying to make me into something that would please her." At the mention of her mother, the last of her smile fades. She says no more, but sits and broods.] Only some time later are you be able to voice a question that had best avoid the prying eyes and ears of the court. [[Ask her about magic]] You meet her in the corridor late one night, returning to her room after her day's work. Her staff glows with a clear blue flame, picking out every drifting mote of dust. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 5) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(if: $derringdo is > 35)[''A light in the dark'' The blue flame blazes, then dims to a cool ember. "Magic thrives on use. A mage who fears her magic cannot master it. When the demons come calling, she will not have the strength to deny them. The Circles are a cage made from fear. I cannot decide who is more stupid: the ones who built the cage, or the ones who allow themselves to be put in it."]\ (else:)[''Your heart jumps''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) The light snuffs out. The corridor is dark as pitch. "Magic?" her voice says from the dark, and you can hear her grin. "I don't know what you mean." She has no problem finding her way in the dark, leaving you to your thoughts. For some reason, you couldn't sleep well that night.] [[A month goes by in a flash. It's hunting day.|Go Hunting 1]] The woods are teeming with game. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(if: $cunning is > 45)[''Shadows of war'' "The Empress likes to surround herself with exceptional people. She has impeccable taste in advisors, naturally. She and Grand Duke Gaspard have been at each other's throats all year. They refuse to call it a war, but there has been no shortage of casualties. On both sides."]\ (else:)[''She's not half as drunk as she seems'' "Tell me, your Grace. When the Grand Duke makes his move - and perhaps he already has - who will you stand with? Gaspard or Celene? On second thought don't tell me. You never know who is listening, and today's answer could be tomorrow's treason."] Only some time later are you be able to voice a question that had best avoid the prying eyes and ears of the court. [[Ask her about magic]] You meet her in the corridor late one night, returning to her room after her day's work. Her staff glows with a clear blue flame, picking out every drifting mote of dust. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Masked grace''(set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) She laughs. "Because I do not play games, your Grace, be they Great or otherwise." She shares several outrageous tales regarding the masked courtiers at the Empress' palace. "People find it easier to intrigue behind a mask. It is weakness. I commit my crimes barefaced."]\ (else:)[''A flash in her eyes'' "My mask?" She leans close, whispers, "This //is// the mask, your Grace. I thought I should wear something pretty."] The memory of her laughter lingers on the following day, as you happen upon the elusive sorceress once again. [[Invite her to go riding with you]] The Applewoods are charming today: speckled with sunlight and livened with birdsong. [[Ask her about her work]] Dinner is served in the great hall. She sits alone at the far end of a table, her eyes dark with shadows. She coughs, the hoarse way the glassworkers do after a day at the ovens. [[Ask about her family]] She sits in the courtyard, watching the courtiers' children play at Wardens and Darkspawn. [[Ask about the Empress]] Her wine glass is empty. Her cheeks are flushed. Will she let something slip? (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7wQpGw5.png">]''Chapter 3: Road and River'' //“It took two days to return from Pastulaire, for the road reeled like a drunkard. I thought of replacing it with a wide, straight route like those that score the Imperium: raised above the rains and flagstoned in white like a chantry altar. But I'd not trade those two days for all the gilt in Val Royeaux. The dappled sunlight. The cheery songs of peasants in the field. Barley, rippling like a sea of gold.”// - the Shame of Serault Travellers on Serault's sun-baked roads and white rivers are scarce, and must be protected. Which matter is most urgent? [[An upsurge in banditry]] Half the cases your court heard this week were of travellers accosted on the roads. They want compensation. They want justice. [[The merchant bows before your court]] "I have travelled all the way from Val Chevin, your Grace. Through Montfort and Ghislain, then across the Nahashin Marshes. Which, incidentally, I cannot commend." [[Your bailiff returns to the castle beaten, bleeding and empty-handed]] Two guards carry him on a pallet. He tries to stand when you approach. "Forgive me, your Grace. They took the tax-coffers." (if: $blackdogs is not "true")[ [[An urgent report from your border guard|An urgent report from your border guard]] "Your Grace! A company of mercenaries has entered Serault!"]\ (if: $peril is > 35)[ [[Challenge a bandit-champion to a duel]] The outlaw-clans are treacherous, crafty and cruel, but most of all they are //proud//.]\ (if: $health is > 80)[(set: $health to 100)]\ (else:)[(set: $health to $health + 20)]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0566Jup.png">]''The Ghost of the Glassworks'' Something mysterious is happening at the glassworks. The guild complains of sounds in the halls after dark, ovens still warm in the morning, and a sliding shadow watching from the corners. [[Loan them one of your hounds]] Now they are complaining about an insouciant cat. "It is a demon-cat, your Grace! Fearless! It watches us work with yellow eyes. Perhaps it is a spy?" Do the other Marquises have to deal with this sort of thing? [[Appoint a night-patrol to the glassworks]] Tools have gone missing. Someone - or something - has been using the ovens at night. [[Question a hysterical glassworker]] The man wears thick glass lenses on his thick red nose. Behind them, his eyes are round and bloodshot.

(if: $woodswise is > 45)[''Glorious victory'' It's no mabari, but the dog comes from the Cheery Baron's own kennels. It's loyal, clever, and a more than a little bloodthirsty. That night, the glassworks bear witness to a frenzied running battle. The yowls! The barks! The hisses, yelps, snarls! The hound's victory is a narrow one, but in the end it chases the irate cat out through a high window. To the victor go fat sausages, and a great rubbing of the belly.]\ (else:)[''You're going to need a bigger dog''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) The next morning, the glassblowers find the dog cowering amongst the ash in an unused oven. It takes an hour and a plate of Serault's best sausages to tempt the poor creature out. At court, the Wayward Bard suggests training your hounds against something less fearsome, like a sheep. Or perhaps a kitten. You ignore the sniggers. That was no normal cat.] [[Two nights later, the truth comes out|A confrontation amongst the chimneys]] There was a fracas at the glassworks last night. Your guards encountered an intruder. The Smiling Guildmistress tells you the tale... (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Cat and mouse'' For once the glassblowers are happy to have guards patrolling their corridors. Your soldiers don't catch anyone, but they do find signs of coming and going, often though high, small windows. They nail each one shut.]\ (else:)[''Whispers among glass'' The glassworkers grumble. They think it's a trick. That you're tightening their chains. Your soldiers find nothing more suspicious than a stray cat, which they adopt as a sort of mascot.] [[Two nights later, the truth comes out|A confrontation amongst the chimneys]] There was a fracas at the glassworks last night. Your guards encountered an intruder. The Smiling Guildmistress tells you the tale... (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Smoke and mirrors'' "I heard something. When I went to investigate I found a mirror in an empty room. I looked into it, but I did not look back. Do you see? I didn't look back!" His colleagues tell you there are many mirrors in the guild in various stages of completion, but that all of them have the good grace to reflect the person who looks into them.]\ (else:)[''A troubled mind''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) You can get no sense out of him. "Through the window - a black city in a verdigris sky! And the things in there - they looked back! They're still looking! They're looking at me now!"] [[Two nights later, the truth comes out|A confrontation amongst the chimneys]] There was a fracas at the glassworks last night. Your guards encountered an intruder. The Smiling Guildmistress tells you the tale... (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0miksPu.png">]''A confrontation amongst the chimneys'' "It was a woman, your Grace. Black hair. Cloaked. An apostate. When the guards cornered her she turned into a giant spider, bit one of them and fled over the walls! The guards put two arrows into her as she fled. "We don't know what she was doing, but we found traces of silver near the oven she'd been working at. Silver means mirrors. Oh, and she dropped this, your Grace." She hands over a knotted staff - the one that belonged to the Empress' 'Occult Advisor'. There are no more eerie incidents at the glassworks. The Scornful Sorceress has learned the price of defying you. What's more, her staff looks splendid on your wall. You have driven away the so-called Ghost of the Glassworks. [[A month goes by in a flash. It's hunting day.|Go Hunting 1]] The woods are teeming with game. (set: $morriganstaff to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7kdtVOG.png">]''Arrows from the trees'' The Dashing Outlaw's shameless band of malcontents aren't the only ones prowling the forest. Outcast, inbred bandit-clans claim the furthest vales, and lone outlaws devil the roads. Dark times attract lawless men. The close forests provide them with refuge, and the roads with victims. Travelers have been accosted. Merchants robbed. Priests beaten. It must be stopped. [[Finance more and better-equipped patrols]] The roads are under your protection. [[Ride against them yourself]] You know where they hide. You take up your sword. [[Do nothing, yet]] You have other concerns. Perhaps more attacks will allow you to pinpoint the bandits' sanctuaries. //You will be able to decide on a response later.// (if: $woodswise is > 55)[ [[Ask the Dashing Outlaw to police the woods]] Set one pack of wolves upon another.]\ (set: $peril to $peril + 20)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/iPMGA3A.png">]''Patter'' She has travelled a long way. Her horses are weary, her guards are dusty from the road, and her brightly-covered caravan is piled high. Silver loops gleam in her ears as she beckons you forward to show her wares. (if: $prosperity is > $dignity)[Two spotty-faced apprentices bring forth samples: fiercely-painted ceramics and bright fabric from the eastern ports. "Your Grace must have the first choice of these improbable luxuries. It is your unquestioned right! See, are they not splendid? Wonders like this adorn the finest parlors in Val Royeaux." "I must confess: the journey was not easy. I do not know when - or if! - I will return. Who knows when Serault will see such marvels again?]\ (else:)[Two spotty-faced apprentices bring forth samples of her wares: fiercely-painted ceramics and bright fabric from the eastern ports. "I wanted to bring these impeccable luxuries - which adorn the finest parlors in Val Royeaux - directly to you, your Grace, so that you might take the first choice of them, as is your unquestionable right." "But I must confess that the journey was not easy. Many dangers barred our path. I do not know when, or if, I will return. Who knows when Serault will see such marvels again?"] [[Convince her to include Serault on her regular trading route]] Buy up her stock, and convince her to return. [[Purchase some finery]] "These silks are from Antiva! Touch them to your cheek. See? Soft as autumn moonlight!" [[Provide a map of Serault]] Including the locations and times of the markets. Let her goods find homes among your people.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/eZe99fl.png">]''Your Bailiff is Attacked'' He will recover. "This head's hard as old Serault oak," he sighs, rapping it. "A shame, really. I could do with a few days in bed." If lawless folk are bold enough to attack your own bailiff, who's next? A noble? Yourself? The Divine? Bandits have attacked your Weary Bailiff and stolen your taxes. The woods hide many secrets. Today, they hide the guilty. The culprits have gone to ground. [[Sanction the local villages until the bandits are handed over]] Someone knows who did this. [[Spread tax increases across the Marquisate]] That will recover the lost revenue with a minimum of pain. Spend the income on additional security. [[Hunt down the perpetrators yourself]] Their woodland refuge will be well-hidden.. (set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) (set: $peril to $peril + 15)

'' Order is restored'' Your soldiers coo like children over their bright new helmets and blue-steeled swords. When their feet drum along Serault's highways, the bandits make themselves scarce. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $peril to $peril - 20) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 20)

(if: $derringdo is > 55)[''If you want something done'' You and your soldiers close around the bandits' camp like a noose. The battle is swift, bloody and yours. Afterwards, your sword drips red. An arrow juts from your mail. A badge of honor! An arrow slipped between the links of your mail - a shallow wound, but it hurts like a Blight. Still, the coin is paid. Your soldiers shout your name. The outlaws, dead and captured, will trouble Serault's highways no more.]\ (else:)[''Injured in the fray'' The outlaws are hardened and desperate. They died hard. Victory is yours, but several of your soldiers are injured, and you among them. An arrow slipped between the links of your mail - a shallow wound, but it hurts like a Blight. Still, the coin is paid. The roads will be safer again.] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $health to $health - 20) (set: $peril to $peril - 20) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

''Bad roads'' More reports of ambushes. More complaining merchants. More grumbling in the taverns. The decline in trade is painful, but you are beginning to form a picture of the bandits' habits. [[Finance more and better-equipped patrols]] The roads are under your protection. [[Ride against them yourself]] You know where they hide. You take up your sword. (if: $woodswise is > 55)[ [[Ask the Dashing Outlaw to police the woods]] Set one pack of wolves upon another.]\ (set: $peril to $peril - 10) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

''Mutual interests'' 'Bad for business', you point out, and the Dashing Outlaw sees your point. Her merry, deranged band hound the other outlaws through the trees, making grisly examples of the ones they catch. Soon the roads are trod by dusty travelers again, and Serault thrives from their news and commerce. No-one's sure how you did it, and you make the most of the air of mystery while it lasts. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $peril to $peril - 40) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 20)

''The long game'' Serault labours under the depredations of the pirates as you study every new report of their movements, their habits and their targets. Gradually, a pattern begins to emerge. [[Tighten the policing of the river]] Search boats. Require legitimate travellers buy writs of passage. Chase down vessels that can't prove their business. Pay for all of it with increased tolls. [[Hire mercenaries and lay a trap for the river-pirates]] A few fat merchant-barges, their holds stuffed with armed men of cruel intention and ill-temper... (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) '(set: $peril to $peril + 5)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''A bargain''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 20) As your servants struggle to carry the contents of her wagon into the château, the merchant counts her coin and commends your realm's "charming people", "rustic hospitality" and "arboreal dignity". As long as she's effusive when she tells the other merchants in her guild about Serault's markets...]\ (else:)[''A bargain'' She remains maddeningly vague on her plans to return, citing as excuses the distance, the civil war, her handsome, patient husband in Arlesans and her other handsome, patient husband in Jader. "I miss them so, poor things. It's hard enough keeping each secret from the other, without spending half the year trekking to the arse-end of Orlais." She does, however, fill your ears with information she has gleaned on her extensive travels.] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

'' Proper attire'' The merchant coos and marvels as you try them on. "Dare I say it? I must! You look more regal than the Empress herself! Forgive me, your distant Imperial Radiance! I am a slave to the truth!" She may be overdoing it, but you do look splendid. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 15)

(if: $woodswise is > 55)[''Up in the world'' (set: $freedom to $freedom +10) Some of her ceramics, fabrics and spices are unheard-of this far from the heartlands. Now they adorn the tables, shoulders and dinners of honest Serault folk.]\ (else:)[''Upwardly mobile''(set: $freedom to $freedom +5)(set: $revolution to $revolution +10) Normally, the few Antivan fabrics that reach Serault, are snapped up by the gentry. Now, fortunate peasants wear bright Seleny blue or sumptuous purple mantles from the dye-vats of Tresivo. A few of them begin to get ideas about their station...] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7kdtVOG.png">](if: $derringdo is > 55)[''A haughty spirit''(set: $peril to $peril - 25) A daughter of the Corpse-Dancer clan won the right to be the bandits' champion in a bloody series of midnight contests. She awaits you on a craggy isle at the widest point of the river, where the banks are more than a bowshot distant. On that isle, the first Marquis of Serault carved his domain and title from the wild-eyed folk who once ruled it. Your swords meet atop the bluff. Countless eyes watch from the west bank and the east. The battle is brief. Her ferocity is deep, her sword-work strong, but her feet are less sure than yours. As she falls, so does the spirit of the bandit-clans, who slink - humbled - back to their hovels. You reclaim her bent sword from the stones below, and mount it in your hall.]\ (else:)[''The fall''(set: $peril to $peril - 15)(set: $health to $health - 20)(set: $dignity to $dignity - 15) You fight the Black Knot's champion atop a rocky isle in the river. He carries a pair of moon-edged axes and a coat of scars. He greets you with a howl like a wolf. He's good, but worse, he's lucky. You parry his blows, but the crag crumbles under your feet. You lose your balance. His blade nicks your cheek, and you fall. A patch of gorse saves you, but when your soldiers row across to the isle they find you half-broken. The bandits' victory-howl shakes the wood, and the wild music of their celebrations keeps the whole of Serault awake for a week.] (if: $health is < 60)[\ [[You need to rest!|You need to rest! 2]] Wildling trickery got the better of you.]\ (else:)[ [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today.]

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''The region groans under your displeasure'' You levy fines, withold alms and forbid the chantry to conduct services in the area. A week later, three men are left at the local manor's gates, trussed like a First Day chicken. Beside them are your coffers, holding most of the taxes that were taken. Your justice is swift and final.]\ (else:)[''Remorseless''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10)(set: $revolution to $revolution +10) You squeeze the nearby villages in a vice of fines, curfews and public humiliations. They protest their ignorance, but you do not relax your grip. After a week the village headmen hand over three ill-favored men to you, and justice is seen to be done. The lost silver is never recovered. In the wake of the hangings, people mutter darkly about your wrath. But the wise ones do it quietly.] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $peril to $peril - 10) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

''Grumblings'' The populace feel the burden of the new tax. Porridge is thinner. There is more water in the wine. Meat is more gristle, less fat. But no-one suffers to onerously, and the increased patrols restore some safety to the roads. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $peril to $peril - 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10)

(if: $woodswise is > 55)[''No hiding place''(set: $peril to $peril - 10)(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) They think the woods protect them. They are wrong. You follow their trails through the trees, coming upon the outlaws while they sleep. You and your men strike quickly, and the bandits are overcome without a single injury on your side. Your deed is the talk of Serault, and with every telling the number of bandits involved grows and the number of your men falls until it was just you, standing alone against a hundred. They call you the Woods-Ghost now.]\ (else:)[''Frustration''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) You search for three days, but the forest has locked its secrets away. You return to Serault castle empty-handed, bedraggled and bitter. The tales of your failure are repeated in the taverns, where you are the butt of many a joke.] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nnOUHqE.png">]''The Knight Requests an Audience'' The Kindly Knight reads as he waits, and when his turn comes the steward has to call his name three times before he notices. He shuffles forward with a creaking bow. Which of his concerns will you address? [["Allow me to introduce a remarkable young gentlemen..."]] "He has travelled all the way from Val Royeaux. A scholar. A brilliant one! Alas, the University considers his theorems too...unorthodox. He seeks a home. I have no doubt he will illuminate any court wise enough to patron him." [["I've conducted a brief study of the graffiti that's sprung up across the Marquisate..."]] "I think they're messages," he says. "Coded messages."

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G5uiaJO.png">]''Quite the achievement'' The University of Orlais is infamously liberal. Exactly how 'unorthodox' do you have to be to get thrown out of it? The scholar needs a home. He is undoubtedly brilliant - adept in matters of the physick and philosophy, an expert on the movements of the stars - but his political opinions are naive at best, inflammatory at worst. [[Become his patron]] His learning will be a boon to Serault. [[Turn him away, as your nobles advise]] Ensure he is escorted across the borders so he doesn't have a chance to foment his revolution. [[Allow him to stay for just a few days]] He may have word of Val Royeaux and the places he has passed through.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/GwFommd.png">]''Hidden in plain sight'' He has always sought to preserve even the most mundane facets of Seraultine life. Perhaps, for once, it's paid off. "It was just a way to pass the time, initially. But patterns began to appear. Alas, codes and ciphers are not my area of expertise, and my other research beckons. I've recently acquired a fragmentary copy of Mortosia's Final Journey, and translating it is going to be damnably tricky..." He hands over a comprehensive set of sketches and logs, detailing graffiti from across Serault. [[Scrub Serault clean]] She will be pristine again. [[Try to crack the code]] You're sure revolutionaries are using the graffiti to transmit messages under the very noses of your watch.

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Whitewash''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $revolution to $revolution - 5) Lime wash is the key. You order stocks kept at watch-houses, and when graffiti is found the watch sends for a bucket and pays an urchin a penny to do the work. Soon Serault's children, always eager for coins to spend on sticky jellies from the market, are hunting the graffiti out for you.]\ (else:)[''The price of perfection'' As the sun sets on Serault the night watch comb the streets, their buckets of lime wash dripping winding, white-dot trails through the town.(set: $freedom to $freedom + 5)(set: $revolution to $revolution + 5) A wine-stained boatman loitering in the plaza is searched for paint and brushes, then escorted to the cells when his protests grow rowdy. When dawn comes, Serault sparkles pale and cold as frost. Its people awake to streets so clean it's like they've never been lived in.] [[You rest well after a long day at court]] The next morning, however, your awake is less pleasant.

(if: $scholarship is >35)[''Cracked'' Midnight is a memory. Night's blackest hours fill your window. Only a thumb's width remains to your candle, flickering nervous light across the papers on your desk. But you've done it.(set: $revolution to $revolution - 5)(set: $health to $health - 5) The graffiti daubed on the belly of the bridge refers, obliquely, to a verse in the Chant of Light. The verse contains a number, and the number is a key to unlock the messages hidden in slogans painted around the glassworks. It won't last long - once the revolutionaries change the verse they're using, you'll have to start again - but for now their communications are laid bare.]\ (else:)[''Not enough hours in the day''(set: $health to $health - 10) Pages of notes carpet your desk and spill onto the floor around your chair. The evening erodes into night. You light a candle and work until it burns down. You send for another. Soon you don't need it. The night sky pales in your window. A smug cockerel crows. The castle is stirring, and duty calls. Dawn has defeated you.] [[You rest well after a long day at court]] The next morning, however, your awake is less pleasant. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/L2ql5lX.png">]''The Baron Waits Impatiently'' He isn't good at waiting. He folds his arms over his ample belly, huffing until it's his turn to speak. Then he stamps forward and addresses you in a voice that silences the hall. His mask is a smiling porcelain youth. They say it was cast from his own face in his prime. Which of his concerns will you address? [["My lands are plagued by rumors of apostasy."]] "Bandits and beasts I can deal with, but sorcery?" he grimaces. "I thought given your family history-" here he winks, heavily, "-you'd be better informed to deal with it." Subtle. [["On my way here I overheard these curs impugn your honor."]] He shoves three peasants to their knees before you. "Go on! Tell your joke again. Lets see if the Marquis finds it funny." The peasants quail. (if: $outlawcouncils is not "true")[ [["The bandit-chiefs have called a council."|["The bandit-chiefs have called a council." 2]] "If the bickering devils forget they hate each other, Serault's roads will run red."]\

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0saCI52.png">]//“Serault's soil is loamed with sorcery. Hedge mages bloom here, and they are roses, not weeds - I'll not uproot them on the Chantry's say-so.”// - The Shame of Serault The Baron says "My western villagers blame the woods-folk. They swap children for sickly changelings, it's said, and boil up storms in a copper kettle when the moon is black. I'd call it peasant superstition, but last week a farmer brought a calf to my hall. The thing was born with two heads - one of them endlessly sleeping, the other mad as your great-grandfather, Maker spare his damned soul." Untrained mages, the Chantry say, are a danger. A beacon for the demons that slink and hunger behind the Veil. [[Investigate the accusations and drive off the culprits.]] The Shame's appetite for forbidden magic was his end, and almost Serault's. [[Ignore the allegations]] Nine times out of ten, accusations like this are motivated by jealousy. Why raise your own hand to your enemy when the Chantry's is clad in mail, and holds a sword?

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Wt39HMB.png">]''The butt of the joke'' The oldest of them - lanky and straw-haired, with dirt-gray fingers - speaks. "We meant nothing by it, your Highness-" "Your GRACE!" the Baron bellows. The peasant flinches. "Your Grace, I mean! We just said that it was looking like a good harvest, and that...that you'd be happy as a puppy when you received your next tithe. And...and then I did this:" He puts his hand behind him, next to his tailbone, and wags it enthusiastically back and forth. It's an old story: that the Shame's descendants are marked by abomination. Your mother, it was commonly held, had a forked tongue. Apparently, you have a tail. What will you do? [[Laugh]] Everyone's pride needs puncturing from time to time. Even yours. [[Have the peasant punished]] Too lenient and you'll seem weak. Too harsh and you'll seem a monster.

(if: $scholarship is > 55)[''Secrets pour from blood like a vein'' (set: $twilight to $twiligh - 5) Tongues loosen under your interrogation. You unravel the knot of lies. There is no apostacy here. Only gullibility, suspicion and spite.]\ (else:)[''The forest for the trees''(set: $freedom to $freedom - 5) They stand before you and they lie. From fear, from malice, because they think it's the truth - lie layered on lie layered on lie. The witnesses are as bad as the suspects. You condemn a few to the cells. Perhaps it will improve their memory. In the morning you leave in disgust. If there are any apostates here, they are hidden in the tangle of accusations. Pins in the haystack.] [[Over the coming weeks you turn your mind to more mundane matters|Gather Resources 1]] Time only ever marches forward. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2)

(if: $rulership is > 55)[''A waste of time''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) An investigation would only grant credence to whisperers and gossip-mongers. You make clear that there will be no further accusations without evidence to support them. Starved of your attention, the rumors of apostacy give way to excitement about the Divine's arrival. Will she bless the sick? What will you serve at the feast? Will Serault's shame finally be lifted?]\ (else:)[''Darker truths''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) Despite your admonition the rumors persist. Now there are tales of sibilant voices whispering on the rooftops at night, and blue lights burning in the wood. A young man goes missing. A garland of skulls is found hanging from a miller's gate. The miller goes mad. Some say it's not the work of a single apostate, but a whole coven.] [[Over the coming weeks you turn your mind to more mundane matters|Gather Resources 1]] Time only ever marches forward.

''Comedy, not tragedy'' Your laugh breaks the tense air. The joker and his friends join in, a desperate edge to their laughter. A narrow escape. Relieved, they share their secrets: things people are normally too frightened to voice. The story of the joke spreads. Your reputation as a Marquis of the people grows. [[Over the coming weeks you turn your mind to less mundane matters|Gather Resources 1]] Time only ever marches forward. (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10)

(if: $rulership is > 55)[''The way of things'' The serf accepts his sentence glumly, and his friends offer no complaint. Such is their lot. They know another noble might have enacted a far harsher sentence. The natural order is restored.]\ (else:)[''A fine line''(set: $revolution to $revolution +10) Did you perhaps go too far? Not far enough? The serf accepts his punishment, but his friends exchange dark, resentful looks. Either they don't trust you have their best interests at heart, or they're not afraid enough. Both are trouble.] [[Over the coming weeks you turn your mind to less mundane matters|Gather Resources 1]] Time only ever marches forward. (set: $dignity to $dignity +10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G1NuwwG.png">]''Prepare for the Divine'' The Divine will arrive all too soon. You must make ready. [[Summon the Muttering Banker]] He fidgets before you, digging custard-stains from his collar with an unclipped nail. [[Acquire luxuries to impress the Divine]] The toil of the peasantry has filled your coffers. Secure a line of credit with a merchant's guild. [[Learn information to aid your dealings with the Divine]] Serault is rife with rumor and blessed with keen minds. [[Uncover evidence of Serault's glory to impress the Divine]] Serault's blood as old and as red as Val Royeaux's.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/h8zNHyR.png">]''Uncouth, but gifted'' With an approximate bow, he asks "How may I serve?" There is a long, difficult pause. "Your Grace," he remembers. He shuffles closer. He won't meet your eyes. He's counting under his breath. Staying calm, or evaluating the worth of your possessions? The Banker is a graceless, preoccupied, foodstained financial prodigy: the heir to the des Guenoles estate, and brother of the Abbess. He can help you acquire supplies to win over the Divine. [[Dismiss him|Prepare for the Divine 1]] Actually, you don't need him after all. //You peruse your other options.// [[Purchase vittles and wine to please the Divine]] The Banker's web of mercantile connections can source provisions from across Thedas. [[Secure secrets to aid negotiations with the Divine]] Nothing greases the wheels of diplomacy like a secret someone want hidden. [[Procure luxuries to impress the Divine]] The chateau has seen better days. The tapestries are threadbare. The silverware is dull. The furnishings are scuffed. It will not do.

''From far and wide'' The guild's reach extends across Orlais and beyond, to Amaranthine, Orzammar and Kirkwall. Flamboyant foreign merchants begin to arrive at the chateau, carrying Fereldan whisky, fiery spices and boxes of dried Deep Road mushrooms. The Divine is accustomed to the very best. [[Days later, as you hold court, you spot a familiar figure|The Bard wants a Quiet Word]] The Wayward Bard knows his way around... (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 15) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 15)

''Free thought'' Rumor travels quickly in Serault, and even her serfs are scholars. Schools of learning thrive there that languish in other parts of Thedas. You send out agents to learn about the Divine. Her friends, her foes, her past, her troubles. They return with dangerous smiles and even more dangerous secrets. [[Days later, as you hold court, you spot a familiar figure|The Bard wants a Quiet Word]] The Wayward Bard knows his way around... (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10)

''Out of the past'' Your nobles search their cupboards and chronicles for past glories. They impoverish themselves buying bright new armor and restoring their family crests. Soon your hall blazons with heraldry: bears, stags, wolves and wyverns leap, crouch and roar upon green fields crossed with red, or blue fields chevroned with silver, or gold ones marshalled with black. [[Days later, as you hold court, you spot a familiar figure|The Bard wants a Quiet Word]] The Wayward Bard knows his way around... (set: $dignity to $dignity - 15) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

''Foreign delights'' He scratches his beard, dislodging a crumb. "Spoilage will be a concern. Need to worry about both sourcing and transport. Marcorias can help there, but he favors Antivan //Andris// over Royals. Have to talk to the Dwarven Merchants Guild about an exchange..." He wonders off, forgetting to bow. Soon, a consignment of spices arrive fresh from the East. The Banker may be crude, but he makes coins sing as sweetly as a bard's lute. [[Days later, as you hold court, you spot a familiar figure|The Bard wants a Quiet Word]] The Wayward Bard knows his way around... (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)

''An unlikely collaboration'' The Banker grumbles. "My sister won't like it. Not at all." The Wayward Bard puts an easy arm around his shoulder. "What the Abbess doesn't know won't hurt her, eh?" "I...I wouldn't know where to begin-" "You let me worry about that. You just make sure there's plenty of cash on-hand. The people we'll deal with like it in well-used coins of unremarkable denominations. Their vices are costly, but more easily bought with silver than gold if you understand me..." He leads the Banker away. A few days later, the Bard sidles up to you with a contented grin and a story that - if true - would ruin someone's day. [[The following morning, as you hold court, you spot him amidst the shadows|The Bard wants a Quiet Word]] The Wayward Bard knows his way around... (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 15) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 15)

''Reluctance'' The Banker grumbles. "Anyone can //spend// coin. The art's in making it." But he obeys, and soon a consignment of silks, mahogany and precious stones arrives at the chateau gate. A few more like this and the place will shine. [[Days later, as you hold court, you spot a familiar figure|The Bard wants a Quiet Word]] The Wayward Bard knows his way around... (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 15) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/mK0DoYL.png">]''Gather Resources'' Serault's finest glass fills the windows of your great hall: blue as the sea in summer, green as a lizard's scales, red as the roses that climb the abbey's walls. Theirs light spills across the floor like a rain of jewels. Within it, courtiers murmur, advisors debate, and Serault's folk - from splendid barons to the most ragged of beggars - assemble to hear your justice. [[Sit in Judgement]] Deal with the small, vital matters that keep your realm functioning. [[Raise funds from your realm]] Taxation is a delicate art. [[Restore your health]] You send for the physicians.

(if: $rulership is > 45)['' Your wisdom is praised''(set: $freedom to $freedom + 20) Serf, peasant, priest and lady lay their cases before you. You listen, consider, judge. Around your hall heads nod, and thoughtful hands stroke thoughtful beards. "That was just," they say.]\ (else:)[''Your people are troubled''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 15) None of them dare question your rulings openly, but you hear the whispers scuttle around the edges of your hall. Are you a fool, they wonder? An optimist? A tyrant? Has the madness that afflicted the Shame finally taken you?] [[A fortnight passes|The Dowager Steps Forward]] The court is assembled, and a long line of petitioners await for the herald's call.

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''A disturbing enthusiasm''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 20) Your Weary Bailiff becomes animated as he explains his plan. You can't impose any more taxes at this time of year, but you can take a loan - no, guarantee a loan - no, both -" The details are unfathomable, but you follow enough to understand. You can raise cash quickly, and the realm won't suffer unduly.]\ (else:)[''Excuses''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 20)(set: $revolution to $revolution + 20) Too many taxes... too many bandits... too much rain... Too little rain... Delays to the flux shipments... corrupt officials in Orlais... honest officials in Tevinter... so many difficulties. You raise coin, but the realm bleeds. Its people grumble.] [[A fortnight passes|The Dowager Steps Forward]] The court is assembled, and a long line of petitioners await for the herald's call.

''Recovery'' They fuss and feud, prescribing a succession of improbable remedies. At least a few of them work, though. [[A fortnight passes|The Dowager Steps Forward]] The court is assembled, and a long line of petitioners await for the herald's call. (if: $health is > 80)[(set: $health to 100)]\ (else:)[(set: $health to $health + 20)]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9gtwwiB.png">]''Go Hunting'' The hounds whine when you enter the kennels, pressing wet noses against your fingers. Your companions mount snorting steeds in the courtyard. The bearers shoulder your equipment. What preparations will you make for the hunt? [[Bring the hounds]] The hounds may help you track your quarry.

''Eager for the chase'' They lick your hands, their breath hot on your fingers. Their handlers curse as the dogs pull at the leads. [[Take extra provisions]] If you lost Health, these may help you regain it. [[Seek the Baron's advice]] He's terrorised the denizens of the Applewoods for decades. (set: $hounds to "present")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7jBDqDz.png">]''Well-stocked'' Your packs bulge with dark bread, feisty cheese, watered beer, and wine from the sun-brushed south. [[Choose your quarry]] What will you hunt? (if: $health is > 80)[(set: $health to 100)]\ (else:)[(set: $health to $health + 20)]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/L2ql5lX.png">]''Years of experience'' "It doesn't matter where your quarry is - it matters where they'll be. Where they'll hide. What'll make them break cover. When they'll run and where they'll run to - because that's where you want your arrow to be." [[Choose your quarry]] What will you hunt? (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

''The folk of the woods'' The Applewoods throng with game. Deer and boar are common, but sometimes word reaches your court of more challenging prey... What will you hunt? [[A hind, swift and nimble]] A bard you know, prone to poetry, calls them 'maidens of the wood.' [[A boar, clumsy but fierce]] They root through the Applewoods. Their tusks make good trophies.

''Go softly'' Their meat is rich and red, but they're skittish. It will take a soft tread and a steady hand on the bowstring to bring one down. [[You ride out for an hour, entering the Greenwood]] The kinder section of the Applewoods. (set: $quarry to "hind")

''Be warned'' Tracking it should be easy. Killing it, less so. [[You ride out for an hour, entering the Greenwood]] The kinder section of the Applewoods. (set: $quarry to "boar")

(if: $derringdo is > 55)[''To the heart'' The boar spits itself on your spear, squealing as it dies. The ash crossbar keeps its death-throes at bay. You drag its carcass to your steed. It will look splendid mounted in the chateau's hall. [[The court cheers as they see the captured bounty of your domain|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 5) (set: $boartrophy to "true")]\ (else:)['' Gored''(set: $health to $health - 25) Your spear thrusts - too high! The boar crashes into you, goring with its yellow tusks. It leaves you sprawled and bleeding against an oak, before trying to make its escape. [[Finish the beast]] Its blood stains the tree-roots. Its strength fades. But it won't die without a fight. You approach it warily.]

(if: $woodswise is > 45)[''Overwhelmed'' Your cries confuse the beast. It turns this way and that, and every time it does, one of you darts forward with a spear-thrust. Eventually, the beast stumbles. It falls. Your final thrust is quick and clean. Its head will look splendid on the wall of your hall. [[The court cheers as they see the captured bounty of your domain|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come.]\ (else:)[''Escaped!'' (set: $health to $health - 20) In its rage, the boar cannot feel your spear-thrusts. It charges one then another of your companions, driving them back. In the end it breaks from your circle, its bristled flank slamming into you as it thunders past. [[You bark an order; your party regroups after the boar|Finish the beast]] It's bleeding heavier than any of you.] (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/4SVcz45.png">]''Tracks on the ground'' Someone approaches along the trail. Who could it be? [[Poachers!]] You've caught them red-handed with a brace of rabbits. [[A chantry sister]] She has been abroad in Serault on the Maker's work, but now she is returning to the abbey. [[No one at all...]] A cloud's grey shadow falls on the path. A handful of loose, brittle leaves dance in a mocking wind. There is nothing else. Are you sure you heard something?

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/DIrlDSN.png">]''Poachers!'' You come across a trio of ragged, forest-savvy youths. They're quarrelling over their catch, and don't see you until you're almost upon them. When they recognise you, their eyes widen with panic. Cursing, they drop their brace of captured rabbits and scatter into the trees. [[Let them go]] You've got more important quarry today. [[Catch them and pass judgement]] If crime goes unpunished, it multiplies.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/G1NuwwG.png">]''The Chanter'' Mud stains the hem of her robe. She gnaws on an apple as she walks, spitting the pips into the trees. You greet her and ask if her travels have been kind. Clearing her throat, she sings: //"I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade, For there is no darkness, nor death either, in the Maker's Light,"// Oh. She's a chanter. [[Ask if she's seen signs of her quarry...]] ...and hope you can understand her answer. Chanters only speak in verses from the Chant of Light. [[Ask for her blessing]] It can't hurt. [[Be on your way]] You've no time for piety.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0saCI52.png">](if: $twilight is > $dignity)[''Sprites and bogles and old wives' tales'' (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) You muster your courage and press on. Shadows clog the trees on either side. A shrill bird calls, wordlessly. But it will take more than forest phantasms to deter you.]\ (else-if: $woodswise is > 35)[''Phantasms'' A cloud slides overhead, and a grey pall descends on the Applewoods. Did something move, away between the trees? Distracted as you are by the forest's games, you can find no trace of your quarry.](set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)\ (else:)[''Woods-trickery'' A wind rises, stirring the whole forest. Something screams three times before you recognise it as one of the long-beaked, blue-breasted birds that cling to the treetops. Distracted as you are by the forest's games, you can find no trace of your quarry.] [[Your party marches on through the thick green of the forest|The quarry must be close!]] No time to waste.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/fyWxsdL.png">](if: $derringdo is > 55)[''Your aim is true''(set: $hindtrophy to "true")(set: $alone to "false") Your bow sings, and the arrow hums neatly between two ribs to find the hind's heart. The beast snorts once, rears, and falls. You inspect the carcass. The beast was in its prime. Your cooks will be glad of the venison as they prepare for the feast. [[The court cheers as they see the captured bounty of your domain|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come.]\ (else:)[''Winged'' Could the hind have heard your arrow slide from the quiver? Even so far away? Startling, it darts away, and your arrow only finds its flank. It stumbles into the trees, favoring its other legs, and you give chase. If you can catch it again before the light fades you can put an end to this.] [[Another shot]] It's already wounded. It's weak and slow.

(if: $derringdo is > 35)[''A trail''(set: $peril to $peril + 2) The poachers vanish into the woods, unable to believe their luck. It looks like the rabbits weren't enough for them: they were following your quarry. You find a set of clear tracks in the mud where they were standing. You're closing in.]\ (else:)[''No good deed'' The poachers were amateurs. Their noise scared your quarry to ground, and it takes hours to pick up the trail. You just hope your leniency won't embolden others to poach in your woods.] [[The quarry must be close!]] No time to waste. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 5)

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Home truths''(set: $revolution to $revolution - 5) They don't get far. You round them up and conduct an impromptu trial in a dappled grove, where you pass firm but measured judgement. The youths swear oaths never to poach again. In gratitude, they tell you what seen and heard while roving the woods. Things reach the rough ears of a peasant that are never allowed near the delicate ears of a lord.]\ (else-if: $rulership is > 35)[''Forest justice'' They don't get far. You round them up and conduct an impromptu trial in a dappled grove, where you pass firm but measured judgement. The youths swear oaths never to poach again.]\ (else:)[''The letter of the law''(set: $peril to $peril - 2) The law is clear. Poaching is to be punished, and hunger is no defence. Your judgement is harsh. When word of it spreads, your people pray for deliverance.] [[The quarry must be close!]] No time to waste. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 5)

(if: $scholarship is > 45)[''Threnodies 5''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 2) Her voice is sweet. "Here, I decree Opposition in all things: For earth, sky For winter, summer For darkness, Light" You smile, thank her and turn around. Back along the path in the opposite direction, you find the tracks that you missed, and follow them.]\ (else:)[''Andraste, 1:11''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) "Its gates forever shut. Heaven has been filled with silence." That's a "no", is it? She has more to say, but it makes even less sense. You take your leave.] [[The quarry must be close!]] No time to waste. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2)

(if: $woodswise is > 45)[''Andraste 7:12''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 2) Laying a hand on your head, she sings: "Those who oppose thee Shall know the wrath of heaven. Field and forest shall burn, The seas shall rise and devour them," Well, that sounds positive. You bid the sister a good day, and are on your way. Soon after, you find signs of your quarry. Perhaps the Maker really does provide.]\ (else:)[''Trials 1:14''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) She rests her hand on your heart and sings: "Draw your last breath, my friends, Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand, And be Forgiven." Is that good? It doesn't sound good.] [[The quarry must be close!]] No time to waste. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

''Trials 1:10''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) The sister bows and steps aside as you hurry by. As you round the bend in the path, she begins to sing. "Though all before me is shadow, Yet shall the Maker be my guide." [[The quarry must be close!]] No time to waste. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/juF1je9.png">](if: $woodswise is > 45)[''To the heart'' It manages a final lunge, but your spear finds its mark. With a last shudder, the boar dies. You drag its carcass to your steed. It will look splendid mounted in the chateau's hall.]\ (else:)[''Mutual destruction''(set: $health to $health - 10) 'Your spear sinks into the boar's flank, and snaps. In its death-frenzy the boar gores you until the last of its strength fades. Your companions drag it off and sling the carcass over a horse before helping you back to the chateau.] (if: $health is < 60)[\ [[You need to rest!]] That boar gave you a few new scars.]\ (else:)[ [[The court cheers as they see the captured bounty of your domain|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come.] (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $boartrophy to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="IMAGEHEREPLEASE">]''Your wounds are too severe!'' Overcome by your injuries, your physicians have confined you to your bed. Through your window, high in the Heron Tower, you can hear Serault bustling on without you. [[Rest until you are fully recovered]] Serault will survive a while without you. Perhaps you can catch up on some reading... [[Get out of bed as soon as you're able to stand]] Serault needs her Marquis! (if: $elfroot is "true")[\ [[Call for the local herbalist. They'll know what you need]] Chew on some Elfroot.]\

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/m2EA7KJ.png">]''Days of rest'' Serault needs a healthy Marquis, not one who'll crumple at the first breath of wind. You follow your physicians' advice scrupulously. You drink every concoction - each more vile than the last - and make solid progress through Petrine's heaving opus //The Weight of Empire//. When you return to Serault's High Seat, your advisers greet you like Andraste returned. You have been missed. [[Back to work; you got a Marquisate to rule|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) (set: $health to 100) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 15) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 15) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 15) (set: $peril to $peril + 15) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 15) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 15)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1CaA0fD.png">]''The heart of Serault'' Driving the fluttering physicians from your bedside, you limp down the winding stairs with the aid of a cane. Your advisers do their best, but the stag's blood doesn't run in their veins. You take the High Seat - pale, pained, but present. [[Back to work; you got a Marquisate to rule|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come. (set: $health to 75) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $peril to $peril + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/KtuxJjP.png">]''Refreshed'' Elfroot works best when carefully prepared, but even raw it has virtue. Your limbs tremble with sudden vigor. Colors sharpen. [[Back to work; you got a Marquisate to rule|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) (set: $health to 100) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $peril to $peril + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/m2EA7KJ.png">]''Your wounds are too severe!'' Overcome by your injuries, your physicians have confined you to your bed. Through your window, high in the Heron Tower, you can hear Serault bustling on without you. [[Rest until you are fully recovered|Rest until you are fully recovered 2]] Serault will survive a while without you. Perhaps you can catch up on some reading... [[Get out of bed as soon as you're able to stand|Get out of bed as soon as you're able to stand 2]] Serault needs her (if: $gender is "female")[Marquise](else:)[Marquis]! (if: $elfroot is "true")[\ [[Call for the local herbalist. They'll know what you need|Call for the local herbalist. They'll know what you need 2]] Chew on some Elfroot.]

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/m2EA7KJ.png">]''Days of rest'' Serault needs a healthy Marquis, not one who'll crumple at the first breath of wind. You follow your physicians' advice scrupulously. You drink every concoction - each more vile than the last - and make solid progress through Petrine's heaving opus //The Weight of Empire//. When you return to Serault's High Seat, your advisers greet you like Andraste returned. You have been missed. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) (set: $health to 100) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 15) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 15) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 15) (set: $peril to $peril + 15) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 15) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 15)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1CaA0fD.png">]''The heart of Serault'' Driving the fluttering physicians from your bedside, you limp down the winding stairs with the aid of a cane. Your advisers do their best, but the stag's blood doesn't run in their veins. You take the High Seat - pale, pained, but present. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $health to 75) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $peril to $peril + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/KtuxJjP.png">]''Refreshed'' Elfroot works best when carefully prepared, but even raw it has virtue. Your limbs tremble with sudden vigor. Colors sharpen. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) (set: $health to 100) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $peril to $peril + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s4K12Rh.png">]''The Dowager Steps Forward'' The Acerbic Dowager waits to address your court. She wears a wide-eyed owl-mask, its feathers wrought from bright silver. She does not fidget. She does not yawn. Though she is no longer young, her back is as straight as ever, and her voice as sharp. [["Thieves!"]] "They've taken jewellery from my armoire! They were in my chambers!" You'd better investigate. (if: $theherald is not "true")[ [["Allow me to introduce an emissary from a dear friend..."]] The herald bows until his voluminous sleeves brush the mosaic floor.] (if: $inheritance is not "true")[ [[She is grey with grief, and wears a mourning-mask]] "An old friend has passed away. I have been asked to oversee the execution of their will, but I find the matter impossibly distressing. I hope you will discharge the duty on my behalf."] (if: $latestfad is not "true")[ [["I have been asked to broach a matter with you..."]] "Some of the young gentlemen and ladies of the court hope that you will hold a ball. Apparently a new dance is all the rage in Val Royeaux: the //poisson//, or something."]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TgkuX1H.png">]''The words of a rival'' He wears a dove mask, blushed with carnelian. You restrain a groan. His master's lands share a border with Serault. You are not enemies, exactly, but you certainly aren't friends. The Dowager's smile is impeccable, but immobile as a portrait. Is that a flicker of apology in her eyes? The herald clears his throat. 'Allow me to tell you of my master's recent visit to the imperial court, where he was welcomed as a prince and showered with the most lavish of benefactions...' his voice drones like bees in the hive. Your rival's herald drones about their visit to the imperial court, a tedious string of boasts and gossip. And here's a gift, just to rub it in! A chest of bright silks and sweet perfumes. The exchange of gifts is a delicate matter of etiquette. How will you reciprocate? [[Give a richer gift in exchange]] Let it never be said that Serault cannot pay her debts. [[Accept his gift and return only a polite letter]] With the right words you might be able to keep the gift and preserve Serault's dignity. [[Match his gift and ply the herald with wine]] He must have heard a great deal at court. Perhaps some of it will be of use...

''Escalation'' Masterfully wrought bowls, goblets, window-panes and a magnificent peacock of green and gold, all carefully wrapped for their journey. The Smiling Guildmistress winces to see it given away. 'Hundreds of royals of work,' you hear her murmur, pained. The smug herald, though, is confounded by your generosity. Perhaps his master will be less quick to boast in future. [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10)

(if: $scholarship is > 55)['''O most giving of neighbors...''' Your flattery is generous and precise. The herald swells with pride on his master's behalf, warmed by your words. A page of vellum, a bottle of ink, and a seal's worth of wax. Not a bad trade for a chest full of luxuries.]\ (else:)[''A bird in the hand''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) Politeness prevents him from saying anything, but the herald's low opinion of Serault is confirmed. Undoubtedly there will be gossip about this among you neighbors, but today Serault needs silver more than respect.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(if: $cunning is > 55)[''"I shouldn't tell you this, but..."''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) You had thought the herald couldn't get any more verbose, but two bottles of best Seraultine white and his tongue runs away with him. Real and suspected trysts, unlikely pregnancies, peculiar uses for butter and oysters, and his own master's rumored enthusiasm for moon-bathing...]\ (else:)[''Dull as dishwaster'' The herald is a dull, close-mouthed fellow, such a clod that no-one wanted to speak to him. He speaks only of the parties he wasn't invited to, and of a Grand Duke's improbable collection of forks.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[''THE STORY ENDS HERE... FOR NOW''!] (align:"=><=")[''THANKS FOR PLAYING! <3''] (if: $health is > 80)[(set: $health to 100)]\ (else:)[(set: $health to $health + 20)]

''You find hooves'' (if: $quarry is "hind")[[[These are hind tracks|Hot on the Trail!]] She fleets through the wood.]\ (else:)[ [[These are boar tracks!|The Applewoods]] It's a big one.] (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

''Alone'' Your companions have been left behind. You are alone in the solemn woods. [[Press on regardless]] There is nothing to fear. [[What is that light in the trees?]] Is someone there? Is it one of your companions?

''A Twig Snaps Under your Foot'' You stop, as still as the great rock that holds the château above the river. You're sure the hind is close. Did it hear? Have you scared it away? [[Creep closer]] Soften your breathing. Step lightly. [[Wait it out...]] ...for as long as it takes to be sure your quarry has relaxed its guard.

''Prudence'' The forest demands a toll from the unwary. You're better served by caution. In time, you spot a stream. It tumbles along a steep gully and curves across your path. Its sound is gentle in the stern silence of the woods. [[Help the hounds find the scent again]] They stop at the water's edge, milling about in frustration. [[Follow the stream into the Deepwoods]] Upstream the trees are old and stooped. They lean closely together. Their leaves whisper.

(if: $woodswise is > 45)[''Undaunted''(set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2) You're not afraid of a few trees. You've walked these forests since you were a child, and know them well.]\ (else:)[''Daunted''(set: $health to $health - 15) The woods are cruel to lone travelers. The going is difficult, and your spirits low. You stumble through treacherous gullies and clawing brambles.] After what seems like hours, a reward for your boldness: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(if: $woodswise is > 35)[''Wisps''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) Glowing witch-lights flicker between the branches, hoping to lure you into a gulping bog or sudden gorge. You're not so foolish.]\ (else:)[''Only a traveller''(set: $health to $health - 15) He is as lost as you. He carries a brass lamp to ward against the forest gloom, and asks for directions. After exchanging courtesies, you go your separate ways. You concentrate on making headway through the dense undergrowth. Your lungs labor. Thorns rake your skin.] After what seems like hours, a reward for your boldness: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''Silent as a shadow'' You listen closely. There are no sounds of flight or panic. The hind must have decided there was nothing to fear. Cautiously, you move on. ]\ (else:)[''Detached''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) Did it hear your breath? The result of your cloak? Did it catch your scent on the forest's rustling breeze? //Something// alerted it. You hear the hind crash away through the undergrowth. It's got a lead on you, now.] Hours later, and you strike gold! A reward for your boldness: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

''Patience'' Time passes. Your muscles ache as you crouch, unmoving, in the undergrowth. Your quarry moves on. Silently, you rise. And see! A reward for your patience: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $health to $health - 10) (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

<img src="https://i.imgur.com/wbthVPW.png"> ''You ride out, your hunting companions in tow'' The hounds tug at their leashes, frantic to give chase. Their noses press to the ground, sniffing out the scent of your quarry. [[Keep them close. Follow their lead.]] They will keep you on the trail. [[Give them their head]] Let them off their leashes to chase down your quarry.

''On the trail'' They keep unerringly to the scent, steering you back to the trail when you might have gone astray. [[Eventually your party finds tracks on the ground]] They belong to a different animal, however. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/GDdbLZG.png">]''Hot on the Trail!'' You're gaining on your quarry, and have a chance to capitalise on your advantage. How far will you push your luck? [[Leave your companions behind]] They're slowing you down. [[Abandon subtlety]] You race through the woods, abandoning stealth for speed. [[Pace yourself]] Slow and steady. There's no need to take risks. (if: $health is > 50)[\ [[Push yourself]] Ignore the complaints of your muscles. Press on.]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/juF1je9.png">]''You have Cornered the Boar!'' It turns, snorts. Piggy eyes gleam with fury. It lowers its tusks. It charges! [[Set your spear]] Its hide is thick, its tusks sharp. Its hooves hammer on the forest floor. [[Have your companions surround it]] Keep it distracted. If it can't focus, it can't charge. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nI2gti3.png">]''Forgotten by the sun'' Long shadows stretch beneath the boughs. Oily leaves murmur. Few dare the deep woods. Perhaps your quarry was counting on that. The trail winds like an angry snake. It takes some time before the boughs above withdraw enough to let the sun push through. The old folk of the Marquisate are fond of saying that once the Deepwoods have you, they're loathe to let you go. Perhaps it's not wholly folly. [[Hack through in pursuit of your quarry]] The direct route is the quickest. [[Send in beaters]] Perhaps they can scare something out. [[Turn back...|Pace yourself]] ...and look for another way around. //You return to the Greenwood.//

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/UXMVbI3.png">]''A Tumbledown Shack'' Over the centuries the forest's edge ebbs and flows. Sometimes it rolls over homes and villages, stranding them amidst the trees. Though most of the residents leave rather than remain adrift in the great green wood, some remain. Those who do are secretive, clinging to customs older than the rule of law. [[Speak with the inhabitants]] What have they heard? [[Ignore the shack]] Continue the chase.

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Woodslore'' The hermit who lives in the hovel knows countless secrets of the Applewoods: their gloomy dells, their wriggling paths. He's proud to share them, along with a cob of grainy black bread and a plate of gnarled vegetables. He cackles as he eats, spraying you with crumbs.]\ (else:)[''Secrets'' The straggle-haired, pale-eyed couple who live there regard you with frightened eyes. Are they husband and wife? Brother and sister? They do not speak. Are they mute? You leave them to their lonely secrets. The woods exact a toll from those who linger too long under the leaves.] And then, you see it! A reward for your patience: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(if: $derringdo is > 45)[''Undeterred'' Unwilling to grant your prey even a moment's respite, you push on. Suspicious eyes peer at you from the shack's one dark window, but their owner does not trouble you. And then, you see it! A reward for your patience: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! ]\ (else:)[''Astray'' You press on, irritated by the huts you glimpse through the trees. Your quarry is likely to avoid populated places. If it passed this way, it wouldn't have lingered.] After what seems like an eternity, you glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

'' Waging war'' The forest fights back. It sends thickets and brambles against you. Hidden branches turn your blade. The air, hot under the thick leaf-blanket, presses down on you. It saps your strength. An hour later, you pick up the trail beyond the thick underbrush. [[It leads to a glade]] You are in the heart of the Deepwoods...

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Revealed'' Your party spreads out into the undergrowth, whacking thickets and bellowing fearsomely. In the distance, you hear something fleeing the noise. Your quarry?]\ (else:)[''A green labyrinth'' Your party spreads through the woods in an attempt to scare your quarry into the open. But the forest plays its tricks. It bends voices so they sound like they're coming from the wrong direction. It nudges people off-course with sudden gullies and impassable thickets. It takes hours to gather everyone back together, and in the meantime there has been no sign of your quarry.] [[Eventually, your party spots a glade|It leads to a glade]] You are in the heart of the Deepwoods... [[Make your way towards the forest's edge|Pace yourself]] You are weary of the creeping malice of the wood's heart. Find a trail that leads back to the Greenwood. //You return to the Greenwood.//

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/kFw07h9.png">]''A Glade'' The grass is soft, and bedded with springy moss. Bright wildflowers glow around the glade's edge. The air is calm. [[Rouse your party to press on]] They are weary, and want only to rest for a while. [[Press on alone]] There's no time to rest. If your companions can't keep up, you'll go on without them. [[Tarry]] Linger in the glade and recover your strength.

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''Gentlemen now a-bed'' You needle their pride with a few gentle barbs. Do they need a little rest? Would they like you to bring them pillows and tuck them in as well? Perhaps you should sing them a lullaby. They scramble - red-faced - to their feet, ready to resume the hunt.]\ (else:)[''Reluctance''(set: $health to $health - 10) They drag themselves up and plod glumly after you, obedient but uninspired.] An hour later, and you see it! A reward for your patience: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry! You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth.

(if: $derringdo is > 45)[''No time for delay'' Ignoring their objections, you leave your companions behind and press on alone into the woods. You're making progress, and you're certain.]\ (else:)[''Needs must'' Your muscles burn with fatigue, and your companions call on you to rest a while. You ignore them both, leaving the sleepy glade reluctantly behind to pursue your quarry.] [[Leave your companions behind]] They're slowing you down. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2) (set: $alone to "true")

''Dreams'' The thick fragrance of the flowers tugs you into a dream-laden sleep. You see a living chapel inhabited by wolves and a silver cup filled with the blood of the earth. You awake refreshed, but in a fey mood. An hour later, and at long last you see it. A reward for your patience: fresh tracks cross the path. Your quarry. You glimpse the rust-red of its fur as it grazes on a spray of long grass. It lifts its head. Its ears twitch. You have to act now. [[Nock an arrow. Aim.]] It's a tricky shot through undergrowth. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $health to $health + 20) (set: $twilight to $twilight +10)

''A Hunter's Trail'' It's little more than a line of worn grass, snaking through the trees. You're not the first one to track a quarry through this part of the wood. [[Follow the trail]] You'll cover better ground. [[Leave the trail. Cut through the trees]] Wise beasts learn to avoid the trails. You'd do better taking the route less-travelled. [[Gather Herbs]] What might you find? //Look around for rare herbs before taking a decision.// (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(if: $derringdo is > 55)[''In the footsteps of those who have gone before'' The trail is recent, leading you towards rich hunting-grounds.]\ (else:)[''Fruitless''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) The trail is perhaps too well-used. The creatures of the wood have learned to keep to less-travelled reaches.] [[The sun reaches its peak as your party finally finds the boar|Boar tracks]] The hounds wail in excitement. Your companions ready their spears; yours is already in hand. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(if: $woodswise is > 55)[''Leave the trail. Cut through the trees''(set: $freedom to $freedom + 2) Wise beasts learn to avoid the trails. You'd do better taking the route less-travelled.]\ (else-if: $woodswise is > 45)[''On the right track'' You search the forest until you find broken grass and trampled leaves. Something has passed this way recently.]\ (else:)[''Fruitless''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 5) You wade through the undergrowth, looking for any sign of your quarry. But the forest hoards its secrets like a miser his silver. There are no signs of them.] [[The sun reaches its peak as your party finally finds the boar|Boar tracks]] The hounds wail in excitement. Your companions ready their spears; yours is already in hand. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

''The Sorceress' Departure'' Your thoughts meander as you rest in bed, eating fresh grapes imported from far away Ostwick. You recall the mysterious sorceress that came to Serault, bringing the seal - and, thus, authority - of Empress Celene I herself. (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[And just as you think of that most curious of guests...]] You see her through your room's window: she is in the courtyard.]\ (else:)[[[You did good in sending her away|I did good in sending her away]] Serault is no place for mages. It has been ashamed enough.]

''Questions'' You do wonder if you had been too impulsive, too afraid of what the Divine could say if she heard you played host to an apostate - imperial seal or not. What did she want from the glassworks? If she does have the Empress' favour, will she seek further reprimand over Serault? And what was that about black cats and giant spiders? You put these troublesome questions to rest. [[Serault awakes outside|Chapter 4: Omens You prepare to leave your bed.

''The morning is quiet'' The Scornful Sorceress is leaving. "My work is complete. Thank you, your Grace, for your consideration and your hospitality. I am certain Orlais is grateful." Servants carry something tall, flat and wrapped in layer upon layer of silk to her carriage. "Is there some way I can thank you for your loyal service to the Empress?" she asks, trying to divert your attention. [[Ask for information]] She must have heard something at court you can use in negotiations with the Divine. [[Ask if there's anything she can do about Serault's more unnatural problems]] Set a thief to catch a thief. Set a Witch to catch a curse. [[Ask what's under the silks]] She said she owed you. This is your price.

''Gain a secret'' She reveals that the Empress and the Divine are engaged in secret negotiations regarding the mages' Circles and Orlais' elves. "Each of them needs the other's house in order to pursue their own agenda. A red-haired bard is their go-between. A woman of modest intelligence but extravagant shoes."

''You recall the rumours of curses and apostates in the woods'' "I think I can manage a small detour," she tells you. She rides west towards the forest, her staff in hand. For the next week, strange reports reach you from the woodland villages. Of fires burning deep in the forest, and streams suddenly freezing despite the sun. There are sightings of improbable beasts: a laughing wolf, a pensive bear, a spider the size of a carthorse. The forest falls quiet. For a time, Serault seems almost normal.

''Reflection'' She sighs. "Oh, you are one of those. I bet if you were given a wish you would wish for three more wishes, would you not? Very well, come on, come on." She leads you to her carriage, where she loosens the ties on her mysterious cargo and flips back the silks. It is a mirror, clear as diamond. "The elves call it an Eluvian: a seeing glass." You feel an impression of yawning depth, as if you were standing at the edge of a chasm. You lean forward. Her hand catches your elbow. "No. Do not look." Why? What would you see? The Sorceress frowns. "Well, yourself for a start. And take it from the rest of us, that is no easy thing to look at. Beyond that, who knows? Glass has two sides, your Grace, and there are stranger directions than 'North' and 'South'." Why does the Empress want it? The sorceress flicks the sheet back over the glass. "You have your answer, your Grace. It will have to do for now. You have been gracious and intriguing. I do hope your curiosity does not land you in trouble." She bids you farewell, and rides east.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/bk71oRj.png">]\ ''Blown in on the Wind'' One evening, as you stand in the Chateau's courtyard chatting to some of your courtiers, your eyes cross those of a familiar face: the Elegant Abbess, who commands Serault Abbey and its extensive vineyards. She dips into a fluid curtsy, giving you a secret smile. Beside her stands a black-haired young man. His face is drawn with pain. "Your Grace. This man arrived, wounded, at the abbey. Upon his recovery he made a bold claim as to his identity. I thought it best to bring him here." The man bows, stiffly. "Carver Hawke, your Grace. Brother to a rather more famous Hawke: the Champion of Kirkwall, who - among their //countless// achievements - has turned our name into a sign that reads 'come and get me' to half the killers in Thedas." How will you answer? [["You've been tricked, Abbess. Carver Hawke died at Lothering."]] Carver Hawke died at Lothering. This is an imposter. Probably a confidence trickster; possibly a spy. [["Greetings, Templar."]] Mail bulks the frame beneath his cloak. A sunburst brooch winks at his collar. He joined the order at Kirkwall, you've heard, just before the war began. [["Greetings, Warden."]] His cloak is grey. His sword is notched. His eyes are hard, like winter soil. What is it about Grey Wardens? Even the merriest of them are melancholic. [["You're a liar, sir. Carver Hawke died on the Deep Roads."]] He contracted the Taint, and his own sibling had to slay him. The trickster who stole his name should have done more research.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/F3fNJx0.png">]\ ''The Bequeathment'' A wealthy man has passed away, and the disposal of his estate and chattels falls to you. His inheritors gather, like dogs at the butcher's door. [[Claim a tithe of the legacy for Serault]] Your seneschal tells you of an ancient right of lordship, rarely invoked in recent times... [[Scrupulously follow the will]] Try to ensure the inheritors are satisfied. (set: $inheritance to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/dqq6sRT.png">]\ ''Tourney or tourdion'' Finding her courage, she speaks in a rush. "A new dance has taken Val Royeaux by storm. They call it the //tourdion//. The Empress' own dance-master invented it, and everyone is doing it! Would...would it not reflect well on Serault if the Empress' fascinations were ours, too?" A new dance, the //tourdion//, has seized Val Royeaux like the falling sickness. Some of the younger scions of Serault have succumbed, and are asking you to hold a ball. "Maker knows I'm not one for fads or frolics, and I fail to see how hopping about in tight hose can do a thing for Serault's dignity. But youth is a gift, and a brief one. Let them enjoy it," says the Acerbic Dowager. You had intended to hold a tourney, but apparently they're out of fashion at the imperial court. A quandary. Around your hall fresh faces hang on your answer. [[Hold the tourney anyway]] A pox on fashion. A good old-fashioned tourney gets the blood pumping. You might even win! [[Hold a ball and dance the tourdion]] Alright. Let's see what all the fuss is about. [[Do neither]] Spare the Marquisate's coffers. (set: $latestfad to "true")

(if: $derringdo is > 35)[''A grand day out'' The tourney is a sound success. The smell of horses, sweat and oiled steel. The spray of mud from hooves. The cheers and lamentations of the crowd. The ring of blade on mail. And who doesn't like seeing knights knock one another into the dirt?(set: $health to $health - 5)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) Your performance in the lists and the melee wins you a wager with the Cheery Baron. The look on his face when he hands you his purse is worth every bruise.]\ (else:)[''Playing at war'' Who cares what they think in Val Royeaux? A tourney never did anyone any harm! Except for the casualties.(set: $health to $health - 15)(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5)(set: $peril to $peril + 5) You earn bruises in the melee, a spill in the jousting, and a bull in the archery. Glorious! You lose as much coin as you win, but the experience is worth it. The tournament attracts young hopefuls from across Orlais, particularly the impoverished class of landless knight looking to turn sword-work to silver. Scandalous and indecent, they do little for Serault's safety, or her reputation.] [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 5)

(if: $rulership is > 35)[''It's got a good beat''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) Fine lords and ladies form lines facing one another, and the lively music begins. It is a difficult dance to master. The arms are held stiffly at the sides, and the steps consist mostly of straight-legged hopping. It's not the most elegant of pastimes, but the younger guests are thrilled to be so contemporary.]\ (else:)['''Are you sure this is right?''' The music is quick, the steps complex. //Keep your arms stiffly at your sides//, you are told.(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) //Straighten your legs. That's it. Now hop.// Hop? You endure, rather than excel, at it. Only the younger guests take the whole thing seriously, and soon the dance descends into a chaotic tangle of laughing lords and giggling ladies.] [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins.

''Prudence'' No dance and no tourney will make for a dull week. But you could always pass the hours by counting all the coins you saved. [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)

(if: $rulership is > 35)[''The letter of the law''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) You execute the will precisely, down to the last colon. The dead man's inheritors - a somber family given to impenetrable and consuming hobbies - thank you for your diligence and invite you to dine with them. Their manor is draughty. Their chef believes in boiling food into submission. But the company is perceptive and frank.]\ (else:)[''Old resentments''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) The dead man liked his daughter more than his son, his son more than his step-daughter, and his horse more than the lot of them. Digging through the familial strife turns up surprising secrets, but to end the matter you have to top up several bequeathments from your own coffers.] [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''"Was he not Serault's most faithful son?"'' At first, the family are horrified, but when you explain that their ancestor's legacy will live on in a renewed, glorious Serault, their feathers are smoothed. You sweeten the point by making them valued courtiers, welcome in your councils, where their thin, tentative voices are often heard advocating the path of least resistance.]\ (else:)[''For the greater good''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) The dead man's family are incensed. One of them, a jowly man with prematurely thin hair, calls you a brigand before your whole court. They threaten to appeal to the Empress. That night, a gray horse and bitter rider take the moonlit road to Val Royeaux, bearing tales of your avarice.] [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/fK70FNU.png">]''A Sinister Discovery'' A peasant, picking mushrooms at the edges of the Tirashan forest, stumbled across an old claw amidst the roots. It is black as sin, as long as your forearm, sharp as winter sunlight, and engraved with unidentifiable runes. [[Mount it in your hall]] It looks magnificent. Something to catch the Divine's eye. [[Order the claw buried where it was found]] All manner of things slumber in the Tirashan forest. It's best to let them be.

''Origins'' Stories swarm to the claw like beetles. The servants call it 'the dragon's toe'. The Kindly Knight suggests it could date to the Second Blight, and wonders if it's the talon of an archdemon. The Cheery Baron claims he once chased a wild wyvern with claws as large. But he's drunk, and pretends everything was bigger, better or brighter in his youth. Meanwhile, an inquisitive wind stirs in the woods. The leaves whisper. [[The following day, you again decide to hold court|The Knight Requests an Audience]] As usual, the list of petitioners seems impossibly vast. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 2) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 25) (set: $claw to "true")

''Back to whence it came'' The claw is consigned to the loamy earth. Soon, questing roots crawl over it, locking it away against the centuries. The forest returns to its sleep and its long, green dreams. [[The following day, you again decide to hold court|The Knight Requests an Audience]] As usual, the list of petitioners seems impossibly vast. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 2) (set: $freedom to $freedom - 5) (set: $twilight to $twilight - 20)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/J3lzgfh.png">]\ ''Twilight, Peril, and Revolution'' Serault is beset by dangers within and without. You will struggle against the uncanny Twilight dangers of the Applewoods and of renegade mages; the mundane Peril of river-pirates and border bandits; and the ever-present risk of Revolution. Which is most significant? //There are three Threats: Twilight, Peril, and Revolution. They are used to determine your ending, and very rarely to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Threats below your Attributes.// //Choose your realm's greatest weakness.// [[Twilight]] Be wary of bad things. [[Peril]] Be wary of bad people. [[Revolution]] Be wary of your subjects.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/0saCI52.png">]\ ''There is a darkness on the land'' Memories are long in Serault. The Shame left the Veil thin. The powers he raised sleep only lightly. And even before the Shame, the Tirashan to the west was a place of primordial appetites. It'll keep you busy. With luck it'll keep the peasants and bandits busy, too. [[It's time to meet your seneschal|Prologue: Your Seneschal]] He mostly keeps to himself, keeping the castle grounds in good order. (set: $peril to $peril + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 20) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7kdtVOG.png">]\ ''Men like wolves'' It's essential that you keep the river open. The soda ash that comes up from the south is the flux that clears the glass - and Serault's prosperity rests on her tradition for glass-making. River-pirates have grown strong, and the outlaws of the forests match them. The monsters of the twilight and the enemy within can wait. [[It's time to meet your seneschal|Prologue: Your Seneschal]] He mostly keeps to himself, keeping the castle grounds in good order. (set: $peril to $peril + 20) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Wt39HMB.png">]\ ''Sedition in Serault'' Serault is a long way from Val Royeaux. The customs of the Empire are weak here. Pagan traditions, seditious heresies, banished demagogues - they flourish out here on the edge of the world. Perhaps you can turn that to your advantage, but the Divine won't be pleased by disorder. [[It's time to meet your seneschal|Prologue: Your Seneschal]] He mostly keeps to himself, keeping the castle grounds in good order. (set: $peril to $peril + 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 20)

You can go to forest or river [[forest]] [[river]] [[vale]] [Name: $name de Serault] [Rulership: $rulership Scholarship: $scholarship Cunning: $cunning Woodswise: $woodswise Derringdo: $derringdo] [Prosperity: $prosperity Dignity: $dignity Freedom: $freedom] (set: $name to "Louis") (set: $rulership to 40) (set: $scholarship to 50) (set: $derringdo to 20) (set: $woodswise to 20) (set: $cunning to 30) (set: $prosperity to 50) (set: $dignity to 20) (set: $freedom to 20)

(set: $way to "forest") You see a chimney [[here]]

(set: $way to "river") You see a chimney [[here]]

''A way into the path'' (if: $way is "forest")[The forest is dark as fuck. Now what? You think]\ (else-if: $way is "river")[The river is dark as fuck. Now what? You reflect]\ (else:)[This shows up if you went to the "vale''] [[go to hill]] [[go to desert]]

(set: $way to "hill") You move on to [[pastures]]

(set: $way to "desert") You move on to [[pastures]]

So, where did you come from? (if: (history:) contains "forest" and "go to hill")[You like going left, eh?]\ (else-if: (history:) contains "river" and "go to desert")[You like going right eh?]\ (else-if: (history:) contains "vale")[WHY VALE MATE]\ (else:)[You mixed left and right paths! MADMAN] You can be rich or poor [[rich]] [[poor]]

You see a chimney [[here]] (set: $way to "vale") This line goes hereee

''The Coming of the Divine'' You set yourself to governing Serault with a newfound purpose. [[Day pass as you work with your allies, both at court and outside it|Chapter 1: The Herald]] //You have seven months until the Divine arrives.// (set: $prosperity to 35) (set: $dignity to 35) (set: $freedom to 35) (set: $peril to 15) (set: $twilight to 15) (set: $revolution to 15) (set: $rulership to 30) (set: $scholarship to 30) (set: $derringdo to 30) (set: $woodswise to 30) (set: $cunning to 30) (set: $seneschal to "plainspoken") (set: $morrigan to "scorned")

(set: $money to 110) Wanna get more money? [[Yes sir]] [[No sir]]

(set: $money to 10) Wanna get more money? [[Yes sir]] [[No sir]]

(set: $money to $money + 100) You got it Go to [[ending]]

You got it Go to [[ending]]

TRUTH TIME (if: $money > 100)[You are rich!] (else:)[You were born poor and CHOSE to remain so mate.]

These go into each different passage/choice box (NOT choice line) (set: $example to "A") (set: $example to "B") (if: $example is "A")[The text to show if Choice A was selected]\ (else:)[The text to show if Choice B was selected] (if: $example is "A")[The text to show if Choice A was selected]\ (else-if: $example is "B")[The text to show if Choice B was selected]\ (else:)[The text some other choice was selected] For 2 or 3 different choices. To add 4th option, add another else-if, etc (if: (history:) contains "A")[The text to show if Choice A was selected]\ (else:)[The text to show if Choice B was selected] Same as above. It is more liberal, as it merely tracks if you //ever// selected Choice A at some point - even if $example has been set to 'Choice C, D, E etc later on. (set: $karma to 100) (set: $moneys to $moneys + 100) (set: $moneys to $moneys - 100) These must go on separate passages/consequences, like the example above. It does the math by itself based on previous choices. To check how much money you got: (if: $karma > 0)[You are remembered as a rich guy!] (else:)[Your selfishlessness leads to an unfortunate fate.]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/zZa5eRO.png">]\ ''A House of Glass'' As you were first laid before your mother, a tiny thing wrapped in silk and birthblood, she and your father named you $name de Serault, a name you carry with pride. //Health is used to determine your ending, and very rarely to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game; a small amount is recovered at the start of every chapter. You can see your Health below your character name.// [[You are the head of House de Serault|Intro: The Shame's Legacy]] Yet you live under a long shadow.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s4K12Rh.png">]\ (if: $scholarship is > 25)[''"Don't make Reville's mistakes. Caution is wise. Fear is poison."'' You debate the wisdom and - more commonly - the follies of Orlais' rulers, and how they pertain to the current situation in Serault. The Dowager is frank. The cider's flush peeps rosily through the powder she uses to pale her cheeks. As the evening winds on, she frees the hard bun of her hair. It's long and grey, reaching past her waist. She spurns your invitation to remove her mask, though. "These aren't the Korcari Wilds," she reproaches.]\ (else:)[''"Drakon's faith was pragmatic, not revelatory..."'' You argue long into the evening. Should Etienne I have ended the Exalted March against the Qunari when he did? Was Florian's appointment of his own cousin Meghren as King of Ferelden motivated by his head or his heart? Did Emperor Reville suffer from a deficiency of restraint, or an excess of prudence?] [[Invite the Dowager to become your counselor]] She is accustomed to rule. Her counsel will be direct and decisive. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/bk71oRj.png">]\ ''A radiant smile'' "If you hear your name being whispered tonight, your Grace, it has been carried to you on my prayers. Thank you. Now tell me, how do you think my fair abbey could best put your gift to use? A red orchard of apples? A mill and a pond of leaping fish? A field of golden corn?" She kisses your cheek. Her lips are soft as a butterfly, as warm as spiced wine. [[Invite the Abbess to become your counselor]] She brings with her the Chantry's wisdom. And, importantly, its authority.] (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 20) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 20)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1s1R6Mn.png">]\ (if: $freedom is > 35)[''Loose lips'' He returns, sloshing with information and a cheeky Amaranthine red. "Good people, the Seraultine," he says, rosy-cheeked. "//Candid//."(set: $freedom to $freedom + 2) You let him get away with it. You can use this.]\ (else:)[''A quiet folk'' He returns with a scowl as bitter as the dregs in his bottle. "People are tight-lipped in your Serault. They're afraid to talk out of turn." He was able to uncover a few scraps of valuable information, though. It's something.] [[Ask him to compose a new verse glorifying Serault]] The //Seat of the Stag// is his great, unfinished work. A hundred-odd stanzas of patriotic rhyme. Sometimes he sings the latest version at feasts, rewriting verses as he goes. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/nnOUHqE.png">]\ (if: $freedom is > 35)[''Clarity''(set: $scholarship to $scholarship + 2) The evening deepens. The library is studded with candles. With the Kindly Knight's aid, you winnow a labyrinthine tangle of inheritance law into a simple precedent. One that avaricious client-lords can't subvert to line their pockets.]\ (else:)[''Clemency'' A robin perches nosily outside the library window as you scour tomes of solemn case-law. Some of Serault's laws are old and cruel: a whipping for wearing colors above your station? A day in the stocks for eating out on Disciple Hessarian's birthday? The Knight assembles contradictory precedents, and you strike the decrepit laws from the page.] [[Ask the Kindly Knight to become your counselor]] Few in Serault are as well-read as he. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/L2ql5lX.png">]\ ''Indulgence'' The meat is rich and red, fresh from the forest. The wine sears your throat. His musicians are the finest in Serault. The Baron toasts your presence and contribution. His laughter shakes the glass-eyed hunting trophies that crowd his walls: hind and hare, wolf, boar, bear. He brandishes a dripping haunch like a truncheon. His beard glistens with fat. Tonight, he has ordered his servants dressed as lords of Tevinter. They serve you in cumbersome, flaring robes of black and silver, their faces painted white. [[Invite the Baron to become your counselor]] He's a firm hand, and his soldiers will be useful - wily hunters and grim veterans every one. (set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/NHZnwAf.png">]\ ''Black and white'' Together you scour the heaving ledgers. Among the stern columns you find unpaid accounts, forgotten commissions, and expressions of interest it would be wise to pursue. Small gains, but not insignificant. [[Invite the Guildmistress to become your advisor]] You could use a smile with a knife hidden behind... (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5Nw1snj.png">]\ ''Dirty business'' When one of her band is caught they are sentenced to no more than a few days in the stocks. A coffer of taxes never reaches your castle; you write them off. Merchants and nobles complain of bandits wearing her colours waylaying them in the woods. You promise to investigate, then drop the matter. One day, someone shoots an arrow through the privy window. The words 'I OWE YOU,' are cut into the shaft. You'd have accepted a letter. [[Recruit her as your accomplice]] It will be useful to have agents on both sides of the law. (set: $freedom to $freedom + 15) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 15) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 15) (set: $peril to $peril + 15) (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/gtkxwN9.png">]\ ''Selective justice'' His tangle of seditious, ill-behaved contacts makes the Purveyor useful. Some can be pardoned, some quietly released. The dwarf is ecstatic. "I have just the tea for so providential an occasion", he fusses. "Fiery, insistent, and with an undertone of juniper. It is also a sovereign remedy for hair loss. Not that I'm suggesting anything regarding your own ennobled follicles. Like a thicket, they are. No. A //mane//." [[Recruit him as your accomplice]] His singular talents are hard to come by outside of revolutionary cells, adder-nests, and the Empress' picnics. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 25) (set: $peril to $peri + 25)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/TvCCoy7.png">]\ (if: $woodswise is > 25)[''Whispers from the Woods''(set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) His report takes the form of gnomic messages scratched into fragments of bark with a knife-point. When you can decipher them, they are uncannily useful. //The woods-widow saw pigs meet with the hounds, and geese belabour the bulls. The Black Knot gather where the leaves are grey. Beware of crows//.]\ (else:)[''From dreams''(set: $twilight to $twilight + 2) You receive a handful of bark strips, each engraved with an obtuse message. The first contains an apology: //The woods sleep. They have little to say//. The others are practically impenetrable. //The mother has eyes of fire; the daughter, a heart of it. The Red Song dance with the Dead Rose. The Horned Knight crosses the old boundaries//.] [[Employ him as your bodyguard]] His eyes are sharp. And you can be sure he won't distract you with chatter.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Z4ppfMp.png">]\ ''The Imperium'' She describes the cruel, twisting paths of Tevinter rule. She recounts nightmarish tales of forbidden magics, and the scant techniques that can counter them. Her knowledge is unquestionably first-hand. Is that yearning in her voice, or dread? [[Employ the Pig-Farmer as your secret advisor]] No one can know. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) (set: $twilight to $twilight - 10)

''A valuable addition'' You set him to training your scribes and assisting your Weary Bailiff with the accounts. When someone at your court grows ill, he treats them. When asked to advise, he does so frankly and with eloquence, if not restraint. He has peculiar theories about the stars' influence on our mood. Rumors grow that he is a member of the Wandering College, an affiliation of scholars prone to radicalism. But for now, he's more use than trouble. [[You rest well after a long day at court]] The next morning, however, your awake is less pleasant. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10)

(if: $rulership is > 25)[''Unwelcome'' (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) If he's not welcome in Val Royeaux, why should he be welcome in Serault? Your guards accompany the scholar to the border with Alyons and see him across it. Serault's noble families commend your judgement.]\ (else:)[''The flames rise'' (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $revolution to $revolution + 5) Somehow, he gives your guards the slip before they reach the border. Did he have friends helping him? Are the revolutionaries more organised than you had realised?] [[You rest well after a long day at court]] The next morning, however, your awake is less pleasant.

(if: $scholarship is 35)[''The temptation of comfort'' Wine, food, company: the more you ply him with, the more he lets slip. His revolutionary ideals are forgotten for the time being. He enjoys your hospitality, and you make the most of his indiscretion.]\ (else:)[''Under your nose'' (set: $revolution to $revolution + 10) He is grateful for your hospitality but secretly preaches revolution among your household. By the time he leaves, some of your servants sport a rebellious look, while others are inappropriately bold in their speech.] [[You rest well after a long day at court]] The next morning, however, your awake is less pleasant. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/5Nw1snj.png">]''A Meeting with the Outlaw'' //We need to meet//, says the note on your pillow. The Dashing Outlaw has sympathisers even among your household, it seems. You wait until dark and meet her in the plaza, where she lounges against a wall, a wide hat low over her face. Which of her tidings is most important? [["We found something in the woods. A cave. And inside..."]] She shudders. "We think it's blood magic. And that means it stops being my problem and starts being yours." [["The bandit-clans are gathering. They've called a council."]] The clans are an old problem, too dug into Serault's most isolated vales to uproot. But most of the time they're too distracted by their own feuds to be more than an annoyance.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Bu8iqAP.png">]''Maleficarum'' The cave reeks of old meat and fear. Animals scream in cages. A spiral of runes daub the floor, the colour of rust. [[Seal the cave and cover up the existence of Maleficarum]] Serault does not need a reputation for blood magic. Not now. [[Hunt down the maleficar]] Blood magic summons demons, distorts flesh, enslaves minds. It //cannot// take root in Serault.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hXx7Xxy.png">]''Outlaw Councils'' Serault's bandit-clans are riven by feuds. The Black Knot hate the Shuttered Lamp, who have warred on the Blasted Oak since Serault was young. The Dead Rose and the Corpse-Dancers have been locked in a spiral of betrayal and betrothal for a decade. It seems impossible they could put their differences aside, but if they did... "They're no fellows of mine. I never swore their bloody oaths, and if they stop murdering each other it's bad news for both of us. Someone should teach the nasty scroats a lesson." The Dashing Outlaw looks at you, meaningfully. "By which I mean someone with soldiers and shiny armor and a great big sword. And not, for example, an improbably pretty outlaw with a negotiable attitude to legality. And an excellent hat." The outlaws are massing west of the river. It's said they meet in the Greenvault: a clearing where the ash trees soar as tall as temple-pillars. A sacred place, where the bulk of their quarrels are set aside and the remainder are settled through ancient, bloody contests. [[Lead a force to harry them]] The forest is their home. The bandit-clans are honed by generations of strife and subterfuge. They'll be hard to find, harder to catch, and harder yet to kill. [[Place agents at the council]] Pitched battle on their chosen ground? Too risky. But you can at least recruit agents among them to learn what's decided at the council. (set: $outlawcouncils to "true")

(if: $cunning is >35)[''A shroud of silence'' (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) Your soldiers put the cave's contents to the sword and the torch. They tear down the entrance with picks and pulleys. A generous application of silver coins fogs memories. Within the week, it is as if the cave had never been found.]\ (else:)[''Leaks'' (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $twilight to $twilight + 20) You order the cave's contents destroyed and the entrance bricked up. You buy silence from the one who discovered it. But if a maleficar is abroad in Serault, who can you trust? Even the thoughts of your closest advisors may not be their own...] [[A thankfully peaceful week passes by|Blown in on the Wind]] You remember the challenges of the past days, the ever-present threat to you and yours. You clench your fist. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(if: $rulership is >45)[''To the edge of the Tirashan'' (set: $twilight to $twilight - 5) You hound the maleficar across Serault, slaying the horrors they send against you. Given no choice, your quarry turns and plunges into the patient vastness of the Tirashan, where silence wells between trees as old as the world. Let's see how long they last in there.]\ (else:)[''Eluded'' (set: $twilight to $twilight + 20) The maleficar confounds their trail with sorceries. They plant false confessions in innocent minds. They strew misshapen horrors along your path like diseased fruit. When you eventually lose the trail, you can see the relief in the harrowed faces of your soldiers. Your quarry has eluded you, and Serault will know further terrors.] [[A thankfully peaceful week passes by|Blown in on the Wind]] You remember the challenges of the past days, the ever-present threat to you and yours. You clench your fist. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(if: $woodswise is > 35)[''The Battle of the Greenvault''(set: $peril to $peril - 20)(set: $health to $health - 5) Forgotten trails lead your band into the heart of the bandit's council, where the chiefs of the Red Song and the Shuttered Lamp wrestle among the scattered leaves, sharp knives glinting as they dispute primacy. Your soldiers fall, baying, on the unprepared bandits. It's over in minutes.]\ (else:)[''Watchers in the wood''(set: $peril to $peril - 10)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10)(set: $health to $health - 30) The Black Knot have put watchers in the trees, their hands and faces painted with mulch. As your soldiers creep below the bandits hoot like maddened owls, alerting their comrades. The council breaks, the bandits flee, your men pursue, and the day devolves into a string of brutal running battles between the trees. A number of your troops don't return, and Serault's coffers creak under the strain of replacing them and compensating their families. At least the bandit-clans will be wary for a while.] [[A more peaceful week passes by|Blown in on the Wind]] You remember the challenges of the past days, the ever-present threat to you and yours. You clench your fist. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(if: $cunning is >35)[''Bound in blood'' Afterwards, your spy tells you of the peace that was forged between the Corpse-Dancers and the Dead Rose, and how the clans agreed truces to carve Serault up like a roast hog.(set: $peril to $peril + 10)(set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) Pacts between the outlaw-clans promise no good, but at least you know where their attention will fall. You dispatch extra soldiers to guard the key thoroughfares.]\ (else:)[''Witness'' You recruit two agents, one and a half of whom return. The second was identified, tied between two horses, and pulled apart. Your first agent could only retrieve the slower horse.(set: $peril to $peril + 20) Dull-eyed, he tells you a little of what he witnessed: a new marriage between the Chief of the Blasted Oak and a son of the Shuttered Lamp. The Dead Rose's chief losing a throttling contest with the Corpse-Dancers, and with it the plunder rights to the southern forest road. There's more he knows, but his comrade's fate has shaken him. He'll say no more.] [[A more peaceful week passes by|Blown in on the Wind]] You remember the challenges of the past days, the ever-present threat to you and yours. You clench your fist. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/sLU5YJ6.png">]''The Bard wants a Quiet Word'' The Wayward Bard lingers at the back of the court, gossiping with your courtiers and making snide jokes about plaintiff and defendant alike. Once the day's business is done, though, he appears at your side. "A moment of your time, (if: $gender is "female")[Lady $name](else:)[Lord $name]." He tugs conspiratorially at his moustache. Which matter deserves your attention? [["I just wanted to say..."]] "...what a remarkable group of people your courtiers are. Genuinely fascinating! Why, I spoke yesterday to a scholar who is an expert in ducks! Imagine! And the young lord Gouillard can tell you the tailor of every gown the Empress has worn for the last two years." [["Heard of a mercenary company called the Black Dogs?"]] "Well, you're about to. They're heading to Serault." [[No sooner has he started speaking than a watchman bursts in]] "Your Grace!" the watchman cries. "There are fires at the docks!"

''He's probably not drunk'' Or only a little drunk. He looks too cheerful for your liking. [[Send him to steal secrets]] He's mostly retired, but for you he'll revisit old, bad habits. [[Wake up with the Wayward Bard in your bed]] Was it your intention? A happy accident? Does it matter? He's experienced, confident and canny, both in politics and the bedchamber.

(if: $cunning is > 55)[''The bards of Orlais'' (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) He tours several noble houses of Serault and her neighbors, playing his mandolin, singing songs and wringing them dry of secrets. The documents he presents you with upon his return would set afire if they knew what was written on them. "A close call or two along the way," he admits "but there's life in the old dog yet." He winks.]\ (else:)[''Repercussions'' He returns earlier than you expected. 'Came across this,' he tells you, handing over a hastily-scribbled document. "Thought you'd want to see it right away." The information is good, but he's uncharacteristically solemn. He refuses to talk about what happened, and you suspect he had a narrow escape. There may be repercussions if his victims deduce who is responsible. The Bard's not as young as he used to be. Is he losing his touch?] (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

''Hidden Passions'' You keep your liaisons secret, of course. Candlelit meetings. Fingers tangling briefly in the corridors. The doors to your chambers creaking softly open when the guards change their watch. Stifled giggles as a servant passes. His smile, silver in the moonlight, and the secrets he whispers before the morning. (set: $bardlover to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/Tgw9Jsy.png">]''Fawners and Flatterers'' “And so many of them! Aren't we lucky? I'm sure absolutely none of them are spies. Or revolutionaries. Or maleficars. Anyway, it's certainly grown much more interesting around here. Many of the charming creatures haven't even heard my best stories yet. It's like having my very own buffet. Your court seems filled with them. Listless sons and daughters of local nobility. Rambling scholars, puffed with wind. Visitors from other provinces who drink your wines, eat your bread and give back nothing but unwanted opinion. [[Dismiss them]] The ones who have proven themselves useful can stay. They rest can find someone else to leech off, and damn the laws of hospitality! [[Tolerate them]] Moths will flutter about a candle flame. It is their nature.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ztMnsbR.png">]''The Free Company'' The Wayward Bard speaks. "I've had dealings with their captain before. Fereldan by birth, but no nation would claim him now. Pleasant enough, for a treacherous freebooter who'd gut you if he thought you'd swallowed a purse. He'll have sniffed out our brewing civil war. "If you like, I could arrange an introduction. Best not to ignore them, though. There's a lot of them, they're trained soldiers, and they're used to taking whatever they bloody well want." There's nearly a hundred of them, crossing Serault in search of war: wolf-like soldiers clad in mismatched armor and carrying well-kept, well-used weapons. Their eyes are hard, their hands are calloused from sword-work, and their supplies are running low... [[Pay them to be on their way]] It's how these things work. Better to pay in coin than in plundered villages and crow-haunted fields. [[Drive them off with a show of force]] It's risky. They are not strangers to battle. [[Dine with their leader]] And tolerate their company for a while longer. (set: $blackdogs to "true")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/SvxOIqX.png">]''Fires'' The Bard steps back. "My business can wait. It's less important than being on fire." Your horse awaits you in the courtyard. The fire reduced a row of houses to a smoking black skeleton. Your city watch - and a fortuitous rain - have wrestled it under control. Fire is an old foe. The town's houses are wooden and tightly-packed. They lean close across the narrow streets. Many blame cinders from the glasswork's chimneys, but at least as often it's the fault of a careless candle, a fallen lamp, or a poorly-tended hearth. [[Enact laws to improve safety]] Your watch-captain has a long list of suggestions. [[Rebuild the ruins]] It won't be cheap.

(if: $rulership is > 45)[''The unblinking watch''(set: $peril to $peril - 10) Your captain's face is still smudged with soot. "We should restrict the sales of candles and lamp-oil, your Grace," she advises. "And form a dedicated fire-watch, membership mandatory to all citizens..."" You politely temper her more draconian counsel and enshrine what remains in law. Serault can sleep more safetly.]\ (else:)[''Necessary measures''(set: $peril to $peril - 10)(set: $freedom to $freedom - 10) On the advice of your lightly-smoked captain, and over the objections of your citizens, you ration candles and lamp-oil. Your watch enforces a town-wide blackout after the hour of midnight. Serault has fewer fires, but her nights are darker.] [[Matters force you to turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(if: $prosperity is > 35)[''From the ashes''(set: $freedom to $freedom + 5) New dwellings rise on the charred graves of the old. Taller, less crooked, with wider windows and polished shingles. You instruct the masons to apply a final wash of white lime. The houses gleam. Their residents are overwhelmed, inviting you into their homes to share their joy, their rude hospitality, and their stories.]\ (else:)[''"But your Grace-!"'' You overrule the pleas of your seneschal and order the houses replaced at the state's expense. He insists they be rebuilt simply - "Serault's funds are already committed, your Grace! The Divine's visit may pauper us yet!" - but any roof is better than none. The residents thank you with gifts of yellow river-flowers and whispers about suspicious comings and goings in the streets at night...] [[Matters force you to turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''Satisfaction'' One by one you call the unwanted before you, and make clear that it's time for them to move on. Your guards ensure they leave quickly and without fuss. Their faces - oh, their faces. The memory will warm you when the snows fall. For a time, the Chateau is peaceful again, and her coffers begin to fill.]\ (else:)['''Enough!'''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 2) The final straw is a dinner, at which the raucous babble is inane you might as well be buying fish in the marketplace. In a rage you banish the hangers-on from your court. It eases the pressure on Serault's coffers, but the exiled wastrels carry word of your outburst across Orlais.] [[Matters force you to turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(if: $rulership is > 35)[''A necessary irritation''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 2) Yes, they're annoying. Occasionally, it would please you to stab one of them. But their presence reflects Serault's prestige, and they are infrequently useful. With little to do but gossip and intrigue, they can be a fount of information.]\ (else:)[''An unavoidable expense'' They clog the corners of your hall. They chatter and squabble and whisper. They drain Serault's pockets, and your patience. At least their gossip is occasionally useful.] [[Matters force you to turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''Good riddance''(set: $peril to $peril - 10) You deliver sacks of loaves, carts of tart apples and - crucially - twenty casks of wine to the mercenaries at a hamlet on the edge of the Marquisate. They hurry to accept the tribute and then continue along the pale road and out of your troubles. When the dust of their passing settles, all Serault breathes a sigh of relief.]\ (else:)['''A country fat with welcome!'''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)(set: $peril to $peril + 5) Your gift's only whet the company's appetite. If you paid once, they reason, you'll pay again. They make themselves at home, commandeering villages, harassing your peasants, and plundering storehouses.] [[Matters force you to turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)

(if: $derringdo is > 35)[''Good riddance''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $peril to $peril - 10)(set: $health to $health - 5) You gather the host of Seraultine chivalry: her chevaliers and nobility clad in polished armor, their shields blazing with lions and wyverns, stags, dragons and bears. Your soldiers march behind in ordered lines, spears bristling like a thorned forest. You lead your force to a hilltop overlooking the free company's tents and pointedly make camp. The next day the mercenaries pack up and leave. Their outriders keep a careful watch on you, and you follow at a respectful distance - never out of sight, but not so close as to provoke engagement. You follow them all the way to the border, and remain until they are out of sight. They're someone else's problem, now.]\ (else:)[''Bodies in the water''(set: $peril to $peril + 10)(set: $health to $health - 20) With all haste, you assemble such soldiers and chevaliers as you can muster and march on the mercenaries' position. On the wallowing banks of the Valle River, swollen by rain over the hills, you fight a short, soggy skirmish in which neither side can claim victory. The free company withdraws, but not far. They linger in Serault's hinterlands, poised to cause more trouble.] [[Matters force you to turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)

''Dining with a demon'' He's charming, with his waxed moustache and neat beard, and tells scurrilous tales of his adventures between cups of your good wine. You are not fooled. He will smile as prettily as when he's besieging the chateau, or burning villages to extort tribute. But your courtesy reins him in, a little, and he's fiercely well-informed about current events. [[For the next few days you turn your attention to Serault's greatest treasure|Chapter 2: Glass]] It made your house what it is. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) (set: $peril to $peril + 5) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/fyWxsdL.png">]''Second time lucky'' Your shot thuds home. The beast brays, staggers, and falls. You inspect the carcass. The hind was in its prime, and your cooks will be glad of its venison as they prepare for the feast. [[The court cheers as they see the captured bounty of your domain|Chapter 3: Road and River]] The days grow colder in the weeks to come. (set: $hindtrophy to "true") (set: $alone to "false")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/1CaA0fD.png">]\ ''You are the Marquis of Serault!'' Serault lies at the ends of Orlais, on the far west of the civilised world. A realm of deep forests, stubborn people, and customs that border on heresy. Once, she was a feared player of the Great Game. But that was before her Shame. Now she is a pariah-state, a refuge for the unwanted, the misunderstood, and the unlikely. You are her ruler. But who are you? //You can make your choice by selecting the text in red. // [[The Swordsman]] A man whose sword is always at his side. [[The Pilgrim]] A man well-traveled, knowledgeable of the world. [[The Schemer]] A man quite used to the dangers of power. [[The Courtier]] A woman keen on the latest trends at the imperial court. [[The Justiciar]] A woman who wears her masks better than anyone. [[The Emissary]] A woman whose splendour is the talk of song. (set: $name to "Marquis") (set: $health to 100)

(if: $hounds is "present" and $woodswise > 45)[''The oldest trick'' After a thorough search you find the trail upstream, cross, and continue the chase. The dogs tug excitedly at their leads.]\ (else-if: $hounds is "present" and $woodswise < 45)[''Over-enthusiasm'' They find a scent, but it's the wrong one. The dogs slip their bonds and race off after a meager hare. (set: $hounds to "gone") Your calls and whistles do no good. The dogs are lost. Your kenneler will round them up, but for now you have no choice but press on without them.]\ (else:)[''Drenched'' The stream is deeper than it looks. A loose stone shifts underfoot, plunging you into the icy waters. When you pull yourself out, you have to search up and down the bank before you can find the trail again, weighed down by your lank, sodden clothes.] [[In time, you spot what seems like an old shack]] Lost in the woods. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(if: $derringdo is > 45)[''Cry havoc'' The hounds bay! They lead you on a long, breathless chase between the looming trees, steadily devouring your quarry's lead. You make good ground before the scent falters and they slow. You leash them swiftly. It wouldn't do to let them scatter.]\ (else:)[''Let slip'' The hounds lead you on a baying chase along bluebelled trails. You push through draping vines, spring over reaching roots! Your quarry's lead narrows.(set: $hounds to "gone") You make good ground before the Applewoods play one of their tricks, clogging your path with gorse. The dogs are somewhere on the far side. Their baying fades into the distance. They'll find their way back to the Chateau eventually, but the rest of the hunt will have to continue without them.] [[Eventually your party finds tracks on the ground]] They belong to a different animal, however. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(if: $rulership is > 35)[''Diplomacy'' The Guildmistress' Smile never falters, even as you negotiate her away from her initial audacious position. She raises the issue of freedom of movement, but you will not bend. Glassworkers are too valuable to risk their theft or escape. Other matters are more tolerable, though. You promise them more windows in the glassworks, and to provide game from your hunting preserves for a meal a week. You allow them to recruit more apprentices. The concessions will cost time and coin, but the guild return to work and no-one is //too// unhappy.]\ (else:)[''Generosity''(set: $freedom to $freedom + 5) The Smiling Guildmistress apologises extravagantly as she joins you in the council chamber. She blames radical elements in the guild for the disruptions, but that doesn't keep her from negotiating as savagely as a wolf with the scent of blood. After you settle, the guild return to work. You can't help but feel you've given away too much. The nobles ask if apron-clad labourers rule Serault, now.] (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[ [[A week goes by. The Scornful Sorceress you met crosses your mind...|The Scornful Sorceress]] She really is a fascinating creature.]\ (else:)[ [[Unfortunately, that wouldn't be the end of the troubles at the glassworks|The Ghost of the Glassworks]] Solve a problem, two others come up in its place.] (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) (set: $freedom to $freedom + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qDI3tfU.png">]''The heir to Serault'' As heir to the Marquisate, what was your upbringing like? //There are five Skills: Rulership, Scholarship, Derring-Do, Woods-wise, and Cunning. They are frequently used to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Skills below your character portrait. // [[You are the Hunter|You are the Huntress]] Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword and steed. Fearless. [[You are the Scholar]] You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it. (set: $gender to "male") (set: $char to "schemer")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/A21soYw.png">]\ ''The heir to Serault'' As heir to the Marquisate, what was your upbringing like? //There are five Skills: Rulership, Scholarship, Derring-Do, Woods-wise, and Cunning. They are frequently used to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Skills below your character portrait. // [[You are the Hunter|You are the Huntress]] Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword and steed. Fearless. [[You are the Scholar]] You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it. (set: $gender to "male") (set: $char to "swordsman")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/AWWPeHl.png">]\ ''The heir to Serault'' As heir to the Marquisate, what was your upbringing like? //There are five Skills: Rulership, Scholarship, Derring-Do, Woods-wise, and Cunning. They are frequently used to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Skills below your character portrait. // [[You are the Huntress]] Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword and steed. Fearless. [[You are the Scholar]] You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it. (set: $gender to "female") (set: $char to "courtier")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/pDJMhfe.png">]\ ''The heir to Serault'' As heir to the Marquisate, what was your upbringing like? //There are five Skills: Rulership, Scholarship, Derring-Do, Woods-wise, and Cunning. They are frequently used to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Skills below your character portrait. // [[You are the Huntress]] Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword and steed. Fearless. [[You are the Scholar]] You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it. (set: $gender to "female") (set: $char to "justiciar")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://imgur.com/0dXSdA0.png">]\ ''The heir to Serault'' As heir to the Marquisate, what was your upbringing like? //There are five Skills: Rulership, Scholarship, Derring-Do, Woods-wise, and Cunning. They are frequently used to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Skills below your character portrait.// [[You are the Huntress]] Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword and steed. Fearless. [[You are the Scholar]] You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it. (set: $gender to "female") (set: $char to "emissary")

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/EG5ti1n.png">]\ ''The heir to Serault'' As heir to the Marquisate, what was your upbringing like? //There are five Skills: Rulership, Scholarship, Derring-Do, Woods-wise, and Cunning. They are frequently used to pass hidden Dialog Checks throughout the game. You can see your Skills below your character portrait. // [[You are the Hunter|You are the Huntress]] Raised to rule. Trained in bow, sword and steed. Fearless. [[You are the Scholar]] You divide your time between the great hall and the library’s hush. This is your chance to free Serault from the shackles of tradition. Seize it. (set: $gender to "male") (set: $char to "pilgrim")

________________________________________________________________ (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[=$name de Serault Health: (if: $health is > 75)[Hale ($health)]\ (else-if: $health is > 60)[Hearty ($health)]\ (else-if: $health is > 45)[Weary ($health)]\ (else-if: $health is > 30)[Exhausted ($health)]\ (else-if: $health is > 15)[Injured ($health)]\ (else:)[Broken ($health)]\ [[CHRONICLE]] \ [[CODEX]]\ (if: $char is "emissary")[<img src="https://imgur.com/0dXSdA0.png">]\ (else-if: $char is "justiciar")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/pDJMhfe.png">]\ (else-if: $char is "courtier")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/AWWPeHl.png">]\ (else-if: $char is "schemer")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qDI3tfU.png">]\ (else-if: $char is "swordsman")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/A21soYw.png">]\ (else-if: $char is "pilgrim")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/EG5ti1n.png">]\ (else:)[<img src="https://imgur.com/xyhifDO.png">]\ ''SKILLS'' Rulership: ($rulership) Scholarship: ($scholarship) Derring-Do: ($derringdo) Woods-wise: ($woodswise) Cunning: ($cunning) ''ATTRIBUTES'' Dignity: (if: $dignity is > 85)[Shining ($dignity)]\ (else-if: $dignity is > 70)[Magnificent ($dignity)]\ (else-if: $dignity is > 55)[Admirable ($dignity)]\ (else-if: $dignity is > 40)[Modest ($dignity)]\ (else-if: $dignity is > 25)[Humble ($dignity)]\ (else-if: $dignity is > 10)[Pitiable ($dignity)]\ (else:)[Despicable ($dignity)] Freedom: (if: $freedom is > 85)[Generously Governed ($freedom)]\ (else-if: $freedom is > 70)[Liberally Governed ($freedom)]\ (else-if: $freedom is > 55)[Benevolently Governed ($freedom)]\ (else-if: $freedom is > 40)[Justly Governed ($freedom)]\ (else-if: $freedom is > 25)[Sternly Governed ($freedom)]\ (else-if: $freedom is > 10)[Wretched ($freedom)]\ (else:)[Oppressed ($freedom)] Prosperity: (if: $prosperity is > 85)[Lavish ($prosperity)]\ (else-if: $prosperity is > 70)[Wealthy ($prosperity)]\ (else-if: $prosperity is > 55)[Affluent ($prosperity)]\ (else-if: $prosperity is > 40)[Comfortable ($prosperity)]\ (else-if: $prosperity is > 25)[Straitened ($prosperity)]\ (else-if: $prosperity is > 10)[Desperate ($prosperity)]\ (else:)[Shattered ($prosperity)] ''THREATS'' Twilight: (if: $twilight is > 75)[The Moon is pale with horror ($twilight)]\ (else-if: $twilight is > 60)[Midnight looms ($twilight)]\ (else-if: $twilight is > 45)[The Stars hide their light ($twilight)]\ (else-if: $twilight is > 30)[Shadows lengthen ($twilight)]\ (else-if: $twilight is > 15)[The Dawn is close ($twilight)]\ (else:)[The Sun is ascendant ($twilight)] Peril: (if: $peril is > 75)[Armies on the march ($peril)]\ (else-if: $peril is > 60)[Brigands run rampant ($peril)]\ (else-if: $peril is > 45)[The people cry out for your protection ($peril)]\ (else-if: $peril is > 30)[The wilds are hostile ($peril)]\ (else-if: $peril is > 15)[Strangers are mistrusted ($peril)]\ (else:)[Peaceful roads ($peril)] Revolution: (if: $revolution is > 75)[The roar of the mob ($revolution)]\ (else-if: $revolution is > 60)[Shouts in the streets ($revolution)]\ (else-if: $revolution is > 45)[Muttering in the moonlight ($revolution)]\ (else-if: $revolution is > 30)[Murmurs in the marketplace ($revolution)]\ (else-if: $revolution is > 15)[Whispers by the well ($revolution)]\ (else:)[No signs of sedition ($revolution)] (link-repeat:"Save Game")[(show:?save)] (link-repeat:"Load Game")[(show:?load)] |save)[<div class="modal"> <div class="modal-content"> <span class="close"> {(link-repeat:"&times")[(hide:?save)[]]} </span> (link:"Slot A",(button:))[(link:"Save")[(save-game:"Slot A", "$saveSlotA")]] (link:"Slot B",(button:))[(link:"Save")[(save-game:"Slot B", "$saveSlotB")]] (link:"Slot C",(button:))[(link:"Save")[(save-game:"Slot C", "$saveSlotC")]] </div> </div>] |load)[<div class="modal"> <div class="modal-content"> <span class="close"> {(link-repeat:"&times")[(hide:?load)[]]} </span> (if:(saved-games:) contains "Slot A")[$saveSlotA . . . (link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot A")]](else:)[EMPTY] (if:(saved-games:) contains "Slot B")[$saveSlotB . . . (link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot B")]](else:)[EMPTY] (if:(saved-games:) contains "Slot C")[$saveSlotC . . . (link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot C")]](else:)[EMPTY] </div> </div>] (enchant: ?Link, (color: red) )

Gain lots of money! (set: $money to $money + 1000) [[NEEXT]]

You can go forward or go back. (set: $money to $money + 500) [[Forward dude!]] (link-goto: "Back dude!", (history:)'s last)

Hey ghoo (set: $money to $money + 10000)

|save)[<div class="modal"> <div class="modal-content"> <span class="close"> {(link-repeat:"&times")[(hide:?save)[]]} </span> (link:"Slot A",(button:))[(input: bind $saveSlotA, "Slot A")(link:"Save")[(save-game:"Slot A", "$saveSlotA")]] (link:"Slot B",(button:))[(input: bind $saveSlotB, "Slot B")(link:"Save")[(save-game:"Slot B", "$saveSlotB")]] (link:"Slot C",(button:))[(input: bind $saveSlotC, "Slot C")(link:"Save")[(save-game:"Slot C", "$saveSlotC")]] </div> </div>] |load)[<div class="modal"> <div class="modal-content"> <span class="close"> {(link-repeat:"&times")[(hide:?load)[]]} </span> (if:(saved-games:) contains "Slot A")[$saveSlotA . . . (link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot A")]] (if:(saved-games:) contains "Slot B")[$saveSlotB . . . (link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot B")]](else:)[EMPTY] (if:(saved-games:) contains "Slot C")[$saveSlotC . . . (link: "Load")[(load-game: "Slot C")]](else:)[EMPTY] </div> </div>]

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/qhoVPvy.png">]\ (align:"=><=")[''CODEX'']\ (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/m2EA7KJ.png">]\ * Health: //How far can you push yourself?// (align:"=><=")[''SKILLS'']\ (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/MXO9G4y.png">]\ * Rulership: //Judgment, generalship and charisma.// * Scholarship: //Learning, magical theory and your skills as a physician.// * Derring-Do: //Skill at arms, athleticism and endurance.// * Woods-wise: //Tracking, herb-lore and beast-lore.// * Cunning: //Subterfuge, detecting deceit and sleight of hand.// (align:"=><=")[''ATTRIBUTES'']\ (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/hICVeY8.png">]\ * Freedom: //Liberty and tolerance.// * Prosperity: //How wealthy is your realm?// * Dignity: //Honor, pride, order.// (align:"=><=")[''THREATS'']\ (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/cwD1JCT.png">]\ * Twilight: //The uncanny, the nocturnal, the ill-omened, the magical.// * Peril: //Pirates and rebels... but also opportunities for glory.// * Revolution: //How bold have they become?//

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/9k4MHI0.png">]\ (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[''THE CHRONICLE OF SERAULT'']\ (align:"=><=")[''YOUR ASSETS'']\ //What's in the treasury? And by 'treasury' you mean 'locked chest under your bed'.// (if: $claw is "true")[* The dragon's toe: //Could this be an archdemon's claw?// ] (if: $morriganstaff is "true")[* A Sorceress' Staff: //The Empress' envoy paid a heavy price for her insistence.// ] (if: $mask is "true")[* The Glass-Antlered Mask of Serault: //It weeps with rubies. It is the dignity of your house, restored at last.// ] (align:"=><=")[''YOUR EVENTS'']\ //What hidden information have you unearthed?// (if: $morrigan is "welcomed")[* The Scornful Sorceress: //The Empress' "occult advisor" is performing secretive research in the glassworks.// ]\ (if: $morrigan is "scorned")[* The Ghost of the Glassworks: //There are rumours of strange events at the glassworks...// ]\ (if: $morrigan is "purged")[* The Ghost of the Glassworks: //You have purged the Empress' "occult advisor" from Serault.//]\ (if: $morrigan is "departed")[* The Scornful Sorceress: //The Empress' "occult advisor" has returned to the imperial capital of Val Royeaux.// ] (align:"=><=")[''YOUR COUNCIL'']\ //A Counselor stands at your left hand, to arm you with advice and armor you with warnings. // (if: $dowager is "true")[* The Acerbic Dowager: //"If this was the old Serault - the Serault of my youth - I could be of more help to you. But I've a limited understanding of the affairs of prostitutes and pig-farmers."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (if: $abbess is "true")[* The Elegant Abbess: //"We care for Serault's soul as well as her body."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (if: $bard is "true")[* The Wayward Bard: //"You haven't been hiring better spies than me, have you? I shall be offended."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (if: $knight is "true")[* The Kindly Knight: //"Erudite. Exhaustive. Only occasionally unintelligible."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (if: $baron is "true")[* The Cheery Baron: //"Serault's no maiden; she's a beast. You master her or she eats you whole and shits your bones."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (if: $guildmistress is "true")[* The Smiling Guildmistress: //"Your Grace is the most indulgent of patrons."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (if: $seneschal is "plainspoken")[* The Plainspoken Seneschal: //"Your Grace needn't trouble yourself with details. Let's get this settled. It's almost lunch time, and my belly grumbles like a low-born dwarf."//]\ (else-if: $seneschal is "hesitant")[* The Hesitant Seneschal: //"I do my best, Maker help me."//]\ (else:)[This seat in your council is empty.] (align:"=><=")[''YOUR ACCOMPLICES'']\ //One does not publicly acknowledge an Accomplice. They assist you in secret, in the Grand Game or otherwise.//\ (if: $outlaw is "true")[* The Dashing Outlaw: //"You turn a blind eye once in a while, and I'll lend you my Eyes and my Teeth."//] (if: $teamaster is "true")[* The Purveyor of Teas: //"We shared a nameless tea, you and I. One that was drunk in Tevinter of old. We are bound."//] (if: $pigfarmer is "true")[* The Well-Read Pig Farmer: //"In matters like this, I look to Genitivi's writings first. Not that he's any bloody use, but he's reliably an indicator of the worst possible thing to do."//]\ (else:)[You lack an Accomplice, who can act in the shadows. Perhaps you can find a candidate in Serault's less respectable corners.] (align:"=><=")[''YOUR BODYGUARD'']\ //Keep your bodyguard close. They may offer more than protection. But protection, definitely.//\ (if: $hunter is "true")[* The Silent Hunter: //"..."//]\ (else:)[You have no bodyguard. Perhaps you can find someone suitable.] (align:"=><=")[''YOUR LOVER'']\ //A Lover offers comfort and the satisfaction of desire; perhaps they can assist you in other ways, too.//\ (if: $bardlover is "true")[* The Wayward Bard: //"Fancy doing something disgraceful?"//]\ (else-if: $abbesslover is "true")[* The Elegant Abbess: //"I've been missing you."//]\ (else:)[You have not taken a lover.]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/KtuxJjP.png">](if: $woodswise is > 35)[''Canavaris'' (set: $elfroot to "true") You find a sprig of Elfroot, and pluck a handful of its broad, triangular leaves. They are much sought-after by healers.]\ (else:)[''Pretty is as pretty does'' Other than their beauty, the glade's flowers are without virtue.] You turn your attention to the winding trails ahead. [[Follow the trail]] You'll cover better ground. [[Leave the trail. Cut through the trees]] Wise beasts learn to avoid the trails. You'd do better taking the route less-travelled.

''Tireless pursuit'' No time to stop now. You pay no heed to the fire that rages in your lungs, or the ache in your limbs. All that matters is catching your quarry. [[Help the hounds find the scent again]] They stop at the water's edge, milling about in frustration. [[Follow the stream into the Deepwoods]] Upstream the trees are old and stooped. They lean closely together. Their leaves whisper. (set: $health to $health - 20) (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/jKlKzhu.png">]''The Applewoods'' The forests that cover Serault are criss-crossed with hidden and abandoned trails. The gentler, safer fringes are called the Greenwood. Go further in and you'll find the darker, tangled Deepwoods, where sunlight fears to fall. And beyond those lies the Tirashan itself. No one goes there. [[Delve deeper into the woods|A Hunter's Trail]] You have heard of an old trail nearby that leads into the Deepwoods...

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/s6n8zls.png">]

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/7kdtVOG.png">]''Outlaw Councils'' Serault's bandit-clans are riven by feuds. The Black Knot hate the Shuttered Lamp, who have warred on the Blasted Oak since Serault was young. The Dead Rose and the Corpse-Dancers have been locked in a spiral of betrayal and betrothal for a decade. It seems impossible they could put their differences aside, but if they did... "We should harry them before they have a chance to unite," counsels the Baron. "Like your mother and I did back in the Bright Summer! Time to make some songs of your own, (if: $gender is "female")[Lady $name!"]\ (else:)[Lord $name!"] The outlaws are massing west of the river. It's said they meet in the Greenvault: a clearing where the ash trees soar as tall as temple-pillars. A sacred place, where the bulk of their quarrels are set aside and the remainder are settled through ancient, bloody contests. [[Lead a force to harry them|Lead a force to harry them 2]] The forest is their home. The bandit-clans are honed by generations of strife and subterfuge. They'll be hard to find, harder to catch, and harder yet to kill. [[Place agents at the council|Place agents at the council 2]] Pitched battle on their chosen ground? Too risky. But you can at least recruit agents among them to learn what's decided at the council.

(if: $woodswise is > 55)[''The Battle of the Greenvault''(set: $peril to $peril - 20)(set: $health to $health - 5) Forgotten trails lead your band into the heart of the bandit's council, where the chiefs of the Red Song and the Shuttered Lamp wrestle among the scattered leaves, sharp knives glinting as they dispute primacy. Your soldiers fall, baying, on the unprepared bandits. It's over in minutes.]\ (else:)[''Watchers in the wood''(set: $peril to $peril - 10)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10)(set: $health to $health - 30) The Black Knot have put watchers in the trees, their hands and faces painted with mulch. As your soldiers creep below the bandits hoot like maddened owls, alerting their comrades. The council breaks, the bandits flee, your men pursue, and the day devolves into a string of brutal running battles between the trees. A number of your troops don't return, and Serault's coffers creak under the strain of replacing them and compensating their families. At least the bandit-clans will be wary for a while.] [[Over the coming weeks you turn your mind to less mundane matters|Gather Resources 1]] Time only ever marches forward. (set: $woodswise to $woodswise + 2)

(if: $cunning is >55)[''Bound in blood'' Afterwards, your spy tells you of the peace that was forged between the Corpse-Dancers and the Dead Rose, and how the clans agreed truces to carve Serault up like a roast hog.(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10) Pacts between the outlaw-clans promise no good, but at least you know where their attention will fall. You dispatch extra soldiers to guard the key thoroughfares.]\ (else:)[''Witness'' You recruit two agents, one and a half of whom return. The second was identified, tied between two horses, and pulled apart. Your first agent could only retrieve the slower horse. Dull-eyed, he tells you a little of what he witnessed: a new marriage between the Chief of the Blasted Oak and a son of the Shuttered Lamp. The Dead Rose's chief losing a throttling contest with the Corpse-Dancers, and with it the plunder rights to the southern forest road. There's more he knows, but his comrade's fate has shaken him. He'll say no more.] [[Over the coming weeks you turn your mind to less mundane matters|Gather Resources 1]] Time only ever marches forward. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $peril to $peril + 10)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/ztMnsbR.png">]''The bastard's army'' "We challenged them, but they were too many. They laughed! They have horse, foot, pike and archers, and a swarming throng of camp followers as rowdy as a Rivaini circus! "Their captain is Orlesian, from his accent, but his shield was painted black to conceal his crest." A bastard, then, who turned to sword-work when he realised he'd never inherit. There's nearly a hundred of them, crossing Serault in search of war: wolf-like soldiers clad in mismatched armor and carrying well-kept, well-used weapons. Their eyes are hard, their hands are calloused from sword-work, and their supplies are running low... [[Pay them to be on their way|Pay them to be on their way 2]] It's how these things work. Better to pay in coin than in plundered villages and crow-haunted fields. [[Drive them off with a show of force|Drive them off with a show of force 2]] It's risky. They are not strangers to battle. [[Dine with their leader|Dine with their leader 2]] And tolerate their company for a while longer.

(if: $cunning is > 55)[''Good riddance''(set: $peril to $peril - 10) You deliver sacks of loaves, carts of tart apples and - crucially - twenty casks of wine to the mercenaries at a hamlet on the edge of the Marquisate. They hurry to accept the tribute and then continue along the pale road and out of your troubles. When the dust of their passing settles, all Serault breathes a sigh of relief.]\ (else:)['''A country fat with welcome!'''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)(set: $peril to $peril + 5) Your gift's only whet the company's appetite. If you paid once, they reason, you'll pay again. They make themselves at home, commandeering villages, harassing your peasants, and plundering storehouses.] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)

(if: $derringdo is > 55)[''Good riddance''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $peril to $peril - 10)(set: $health to $health - 5) You gather the host of Seraultine chivalry: her chevaliers and nobility clad in polished armor, their shields blazing with lions and wyverns, stags, dragons and bears. Your soldiers march behind in ordered lines, spears bristling like a thorned forest. You lead your force to a hilltop overlooking the free company's tents and pointedly make camp. The next day the mercenaries pack up and leave. Their outriders keep a careful watch on you, and you follow at a respectful distance - never out of sight, but not so close as to provoke engagement. You follow them all the way to the border, and remain until they are out of sight. They're someone else's problem, now.]\ (else:)[''Bodies in the water''(set: $peril to $peril + 10)(set: $health to $health - 20) With all haste, you assemble such soldiers and chevaliers as you can muster and march on the mercenaries' position. On the wallowing banks of the Valle River, swollen by rain over the hills, you fight a short, soggy skirmish in which neither side can claim victory. The free company withdraws, but not far. They linger in Serault's hinterlands, poised to cause more trouble.] [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5)

''Dining with a demon'' He's charming, with his waxed moustache and neat beard, and tells scurrilous tales of his adventures between cups of your good wine. You are not fooled. He will smile as prettily as when he's besieging the chateau, or burning villages to extort tribute. But your courtesy reins him in, a little, and he's fiercely well-informed about current events. [[As things quiet down, you decide to hold court to see to your subjects' grievances|The Baron Waits Impatiently]] The Cheery Baron comes forth today. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) (set: $peril to $peril + 5) (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/F3fNJx0.png">]''The legacy'' She places the will, sealed with blue wax, into your hands. "With each passing year I have fewer friends left in the world." [[Claim a tithe of the legacy for Serault|Claim a tithe of the legacy for Serault 2]] Your seneschal tells you of an ancient right of lordship, rarely invoked in recent times... [[Scrupulously follow the will|Scrupulously follow the will 2]] Try to ensure the inheritors are satisfied.

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/dqq6sRT.png">]''All the rage'' A new dance, the //tourdion//, has seized Val Royeaux like the falling sickness. Some of the younger scions of Serault have succumbed, and are asking you to hold a ball. "Maker knows I'm not one for fads or frolics, and I fail to see how hopping about in tight hose can do a thing for Serault's dignity. But youth is a gift, and a brief one. Let them enjoy it," says the Acerbic Dowager. You had intended to hold a tourney, but apparently they're out of fashion at the imperial court. A quandary. Around your hall fresh faces hang on your answer. [[Hold the tourney anyway|Hold the tourney anyway 2]] A pox on fashion. A good old-fashioned tourney gets the blood pumping. You might even win! [[Hold a ball and dance the tourdion|Hold a ball and dance the tourdion 2]] Alright. Let's see what all the fuss is about. [[Do neither|Do neither 2]] Spare the Marquisate's coffers.

(if: $cunning is > 55)[''"Was he not Serault's most faithful son?"'' At first, the family are horrified, but when you explain that their ancestor's legacy will live on in a renewed, glorious Serault, their feathers are smoothed. You sweeten the point by making them valued courtiers, welcome in your councils, where their thin, tentative voices are often heard advocating the path of least resistance.]\ (else:)[''For the greater good''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5) The dead man's family are incensed. One of them, a jowly man with prematurely thin hair, calls you a brigand before your whole court. They threaten to appeal to the Empress. That night, a gray horse and bitter rider take the moonlit road to Val Royeaux, bearing tales of your avarice.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2) (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(if: $rulership is > 55)[''The letter of the law''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) You execute the will precisely, down to the last colon. The dead man's inheritors - a somber family given to impenetrable and consuming hobbies - thank you for your diligence and invite you to dine with them. Their manor is draughty. Their chef believes in boiling food into submission. But the company is perceptive and frank.]\ (else:)[''Old resentments''(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) The dead man liked his daughter more than his son, his son more than his step-daughter, and his horse more than the lot of them. Digging through the familial strife turns up surprising secrets, but to end the matter you have to top up several bequeathments from your own coffers.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $rulership to $rulership + 2)

(if: $derringdo is > 55)[''A grand day out'' The tourney is a sound success. The smell of horses, sweat and oiled steel. The spray of mud from hooves. The cheers and lamentations of the crowd. The ring of blade on mail. And who doesn't like seeing knights knock one another into the dirt?(set: $health to $health - 5)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5) Your performance in the lists and the melee wins you a wager with the Cheery Baron. The look on his face when he hands you his purse is worth every bruise.]\ (else:)[''Playing at war'' Who cares what they think in Val Royeaux? A tourney never did anyone any harm! Except for the casualties.(set: $health to $health - 15)(set: $dignity to $dignity - 5)(set: $peril to $peril + 5) You earn bruises in the melee, a spill in the jousting, and a bull in the archery. Glorious! You lose as much coin as you win, but the experience is worth it. The tournament attracts young hopefuls from across Orlais, particularly the impoverished class of landless knight looking to turn sword-work to silver. Scandalous and indecent, they do little for Serault's safety, or her reputation.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $derringdo to $derringdo + 2)

(if: $rulership is > 55)[''It's got a good beat''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 10) Fine lords and ladies form lines facing one another, and the lively music begins. It is a difficult dance to master. The arms are held stiffly at the sides, and the steps consist mostly of straight-legged hopping. It's not the most elegant of pastimes, but the younger guests are thrilled to be so contemporary.]\ (else:)['''Are you sure this is right?''' The music is quick, the steps complex. //Keep your arms stiffly at your sides//, you are told.(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5)(set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 5) //Straighten your legs. That's it. Now hop.// Hop? You endure, rather than excel, at it. Only the younger guests take the whole thing seriously, and soon the dance descends into a chaotic tangle of laughing lords and giggling ladies.] [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders.

''Prudence'' No dance and no tourney will make for a dull week. But you could always pass the hours by counting all the coins you saved. [[An uneventful week comes and goes|Chapter 4: Omens]] You suddenly feel a shiver. You tighten your cloak over your shoulders. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 5)

(align:"=><=")[<img src="https://i.imgur.com/F3fNJx0.png">]\ ''"...where he was received with the graces due a prince!"'' Draped in flamboyant livery, the herald casts a pitying glance around your hall before embarking on a comprehensive account of their time at court. As he drones on about the feasts, favors, and compliments lavished upon his master, you consider how Serault could benefit from this. The Herald wears a dove mask, blushed with carnelian. You restrain a groan. His master's lands share a border with Serault. You are not enemies, exactly, but you certainly aren't friends. And here's a gift, just to rub it in! A chest of bright silks and sweet perfumes. The exchange of gifts is a delicate matter of etiquette. How will you reciprocate? [[Give a richer gift in exchange|Give a richer gift in exchange 2]] Let it never be said that Serault cannot pay her debts. [[Accept his gift and return only a polite letter|Accept his gift and return only a polite letter 2]] With the right words you might be able to keep the gift and preserve Serault's dignity. [[Match his gift and ply the herald with wine|Match his gift and ply the herald with wine 2]] He must have heard a great deal at court. Perhaps some of it will be of use... (set: $theherald to "true")

''Escalation'' Masterfully wrought bowls, goblets, window-panes and a magnificent peacock of green and gold, all carefully wrapped for their journey. The Smiling Guildmistress winces to see it given away. 'Hundreds of royals of work,' you hear her murmur, pained. The smug herald, though, is confounded by your generosity. Perhaps his master will be less quick to boast in future. [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity - 10) (set: $dignity to $dignity + 10)

(if: $scholarship is > 35)['''O most giving of neighbors...''' Your flattery is generous and precise. The herald swells with pride on his master's behalf, warmed by your words. A page of vellum, a bottle of ink, and a seal's worth of wax. Not a bad trade for a chest full of luxuries.]\ (else:)[''A bird in the hand''(set: $dignity to $dignity - 10) Politeness prevents him from saying anything, but the herald's low opinion of Serault is confirmed. Undoubtedly there will be gossip about this among you neighbors, but today Serault needs silver more than respect.] [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $prosperity to $prosperity + 10)

(if: $cunning is > 35)[''"I shouldn't tell you this, but..."''(set: $dignity to $dignity + 5) You had thought the herald couldn't get any more verbose, but two bottles of best Seraultine white and his tongue runs away with him. Real and suspected trysts, unlikely pregnancies, peculiar uses for butter and oysters, and his own master's rumored enthusiasm for moon-bathing...]\ (else:)[''Dull as dishwaster'' The herald is a dull, close-mouthed fellow, such a clod that no-one wanted to speak to him. He speaks only of the parties he wasn't invited to, and of a Grand Duke's improbable collection of forks.] [[Two days later, another visitor arrives at court|A Sinister Discovery]] One of more humble origins. (set: $cunning to $cunning + 2)