-- Miranda --
Luizlurgh, Preularith.
The clanking of Lovell's plated armor fades as he disappears from sight, heading further into the township with militant poise. With his departure, the couple acquiesce to Miranda's question with shared expressions of surprise and a query of their own in response.
"You wish to begin so soon, Milady?" asks Jareth, voicing unified thought as both man and wife glanced in the direction of a nearby sundial, "What is it you seek?"
Deals With Demons
-
*EM Lyrium
- Posts: 47
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-- Leatherbound Tome of Dark Rituals --
The House of Healing, Sigil.
In a darkened room of the abandoned clinic the tome rests alongside a discarded holy symbol of Ilmater, permeating in it's corrupt aura for whomever might come along to claim it; be they invited guest with key, or lawless thug with a penchant for locks. Despite the message left for Krystelle at the Weary Spirit Inn, the leather-bound book remains untouched in it's solitude. Forsaken pages, now blank, jut from the crimson cover of the fiendish chronicle. No light passes through the shut curtains of the chamber, the fireplace long since ashen and cold from the week passed.
Despite the "Closed" signage on the Infirmary's wooden door and lack of presence within, in the silence of eve a passing body by might swear they could hear the faint sound of a sultry woman's laugh drifting through it's halls, only to abruptly fade in the moments that follow as if it had never occurred at all. . .
[align=center]- - - - -
[[ EM Notes: I'm leaving this open to anyone who has an IC reason to pick it up/lay claim/help/hinder and is willing to deal with the possible consequences of doing so. It should also noted that this event was never intended to be a campaign, so it will only go so far as people are willing to take it.]][/align]
The House of Healing, Sigil.
In a darkened room of the abandoned clinic the tome rests alongside a discarded holy symbol of Ilmater, permeating in it's corrupt aura for whomever might come along to claim it; be they invited guest with key, or lawless thug with a penchant for locks. Despite the message left for Krystelle at the Weary Spirit Inn, the leather-bound book remains untouched in it's solitude. Forsaken pages, now blank, jut from the crimson cover of the fiendish chronicle. No light passes through the shut curtains of the chamber, the fireplace long since ashen and cold from the week passed.
Despite the "Closed" signage on the Infirmary's wooden door and lack of presence within, in the silence of eve a passing body by might swear they could hear the faint sound of a sultry woman's laugh drifting through it's halls, only to abruptly fade in the moments that follow as if it had never occurred at all. . .
[align=center]- - - - -
[[ EM Notes: I'm leaving this open to anyone who has an IC reason to pick it up/lay claim/help/hinder and is willing to deal with the possible consequences of doing so. It should also noted that this event was never intended to be a campaign, so it will only go so far as people are willing to take it.]][/align]
-
*WhenWizardsWar
- Posts: 353
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-Miranda-
At this point Miranda unsheaths one of her most powerful weapons and that is her powerful mind and her vast array of mercantile knowledge and skills. She asks the couple to first lead her to the who's who of material providers in the city, any lumber merchants, smiths, you name it.
When she is brought to such people she begins a very aggressive no nonsense assault on the materials she can get her hands on, scrutinizing them with every analytical muscle in her body. She methodically selects this material, that style of craftsmanship, this metal, that type of clay and cloth, sparing no expense to aquire what ever she, or the couple decides they need to rebuild their inn.
Miranda is a very wealthy successful business woman who, when you take into account the holdings of her and her husband, not just through the Abjurors Arsenals profits but the other sources of income the Illdesserin couple has access to its not far fetched to place Mirandas net worth in the many millions.
She tells the couple to spare no expense in picking out what ever they want in order to make their new business bigger, better, stronger. As a craftsmen who, lets face it is probably far superior then most prime smiths, it is likely that Miranda is even able to give the local craftsmen tips and tricks on how to improve the quality of their goods and the quantity of their yields with out giving away to much of her magical ability. She generally seems to be trying to help the community and improve its efficency.
She doesn't want the couple to draw the scorn of the community by being spoiled by a random strange merchant so Miranda doesn't buy out the merchants stock right away, understanding the flow of supply and demand all too well, Miranda is willing to pay extra to the merchants who may have to order larger quantities from their own suppliers, acting under the assumption that this city does trade with its neighbors for raw goods and materials.
She generally is making a bold head start right out of the gate to help the community, much more of an effort then most would expect which likely draws even more suspicion towards her for now.
The reasoning, in her mind is simple...
If the city prospers, then its people prosper and if its people prosper then the future chance of trade relations prospers as well.
But she's not done yet...
After an afternoon of rigorous shopping, Miranda would ask to go on a stroll in the country side for some fresh air and to gather her thoughts, alone...
She would return with an hour or two before sundown she would be seen strolling back into town with a wide smile on her face, and a beautiful scabbard hanging at her side. She makes her way around the town to where the local miltia operate out of and she requests an audience with captain Lovell.
Whats in the incredibly ornate, beautiful scabbard she has sitting across her lap while she waits for the captain?.
A gift of course, a fine gift for a fine captain and protector of the people.
As she waits, she occasionally slides the hilt from the scabbard and stares at the beautiful longsword resting inside...gleaming....
A gleam that only a longsword of Solonian Truesteel can possess...
At this point Miranda unsheaths one of her most powerful weapons and that is her powerful mind and her vast array of mercantile knowledge and skills. She asks the couple to first lead her to the who's who of material providers in the city, any lumber merchants, smiths, you name it.
When she is brought to such people she begins a very aggressive no nonsense assault on the materials she can get her hands on, scrutinizing them with every analytical muscle in her body. She methodically selects this material, that style of craftsmanship, this metal, that type of clay and cloth, sparing no expense to aquire what ever she, or the couple decides they need to rebuild their inn.
Miranda is a very wealthy successful business woman who, when you take into account the holdings of her and her husband, not just through the Abjurors Arsenals profits but the other sources of income the Illdesserin couple has access to its not far fetched to place Mirandas net worth in the many millions.
She tells the couple to spare no expense in picking out what ever they want in order to make their new business bigger, better, stronger. As a craftsmen who, lets face it is probably far superior then most prime smiths, it is likely that Miranda is even able to give the local craftsmen tips and tricks on how to improve the quality of their goods and the quantity of their yields with out giving away to much of her magical ability. She generally seems to be trying to help the community and improve its efficency.
She doesn't want the couple to draw the scorn of the community by being spoiled by a random strange merchant so Miranda doesn't buy out the merchants stock right away, understanding the flow of supply and demand all too well, Miranda is willing to pay extra to the merchants who may have to order larger quantities from their own suppliers, acting under the assumption that this city does trade with its neighbors for raw goods and materials.
She generally is making a bold head start right out of the gate to help the community, much more of an effort then most would expect which likely draws even more suspicion towards her for now.
The reasoning, in her mind is simple...
If the city prospers, then its people prosper and if its people prosper then the future chance of trade relations prospers as well.
But she's not done yet...
After an afternoon of rigorous shopping, Miranda would ask to go on a stroll in the country side for some fresh air and to gather her thoughts, alone...
She would return with an hour or two before sundown she would be seen strolling back into town with a wide smile on her face, and a beautiful scabbard hanging at her side. She makes her way around the town to where the local miltia operate out of and she requests an audience with captain Lovell.
Whats in the incredibly ornate, beautiful scabbard she has sitting across her lap while she waits for the captain?.
A gift of course, a fine gift for a fine captain and protector of the people.
As she waits, she occasionally slides the hilt from the scabbard and stares at the beautiful longsword resting inside...gleaming....
A gleam that only a longsword of Solonian Truesteel can possess...
-
*Serena
- Posts: 399
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-- Leatherbound Tome of Dark Rituals --
The House of Healing
Rhistel was pretty sure he was still not suffering of hallucinations, so, when he heard the woman's laugh echoing through the clinic rooms he knew to be empty, didn't take much for him to realize something was probably amiss.
With a little sigh, he closed his book and stood up from the bench he was occupying in the waiting room.
Just leave. Whatever it is, it is none of your business and you know that.
Sure thing it wasn't his business. Only the Powers knew how many weird things the Doctor had brought next door. Undeads? Nerullite killers? Demons? That boy surely had a way to make him feel lucky despite everything that happened to him.
He moved to reach the exit door, but then after just few steps he stopped, turning around to stare at the stairs.
None of my business, right. Then I suppose I will have no right to complain if something happens later just because I decided to not care...
Shaking his head, he finally moved to the upper floor.
The House of Healing
Rhistel was pretty sure he was still not suffering of hallucinations, so, when he heard the woman's laugh echoing through the clinic rooms he knew to be empty, didn't take much for him to realize something was probably amiss.
With a little sigh, he closed his book and stood up from the bench he was occupying in the waiting room.
Just leave. Whatever it is, it is none of your business and you know that.
Sure thing it wasn't his business. Only the Powers knew how many weird things the Doctor had brought next door. Undeads? Nerullite killers? Demons? That boy surely had a way to make him feel lucky despite everything that happened to him.
He moved to reach the exit door, but then after just few steps he stopped, turning around to stare at the stairs.
None of my business, right. Then I suppose I will have no right to complain if something happens later just because I decided to not care...
Shaking his head, he finally moved to the upper floor.
-
*EM Lyrium
- Posts: 47
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-- Miranda --
Luizlurgh, Preularith.
Stanton Lovell was a good man, at heart. With a rugged jawline and two day old stubble, he could certainly be considered handsome by mortal standards. Yet despite his tousled golden locks and the easy curl of his lips, the Captain seemed a man who rarely slept. Weary was his countenance, and dark were the bags that rested beneath his blue eyes. The fatigued crease to his brow only seemed to divit further upon bearing witness to Miranda's presence, yet he greeted her politely all the same.
"Well met, Lady Merchant." he acknowledged, dipping forward in a half-bow that clasped iron gauntlet to the dull sheen of metal breastplate with a muted clang. "I take it you have come to bid farewell?"
Miranda found herself in what could be considered a crude barracks, ushered by a watchman with hawkish features to the Captain's personal cabin which doubly served as an office. The dusky skinned woman of Thay had been successful in the day's activities, though busy enough that she too was exhausted. Pine and oak were the largest of purchases by far, the aid of local woodcutters enlisted by carpenters to fulfill the order and those to come. The ironmonger, plumer, linen-draper, hetheleder, mason, blacksmith and roofer were all likewise visited and services employed. The Ridgeways are overwhelmed by the Thayan's generosity, and already begin to make excitable preparations for the new building. It proves to be a costly venture, but already Miranda sees the subtle aftermath of newly sewn seeds; united purpose.
Lovell has yet to notice the blade Miranda carries, already returned to loom over his desk with both masculine paws clutching handfuls of parchment. Placing down one to receive a scribbled note only seems to place another two into his grasp akin to a paper-based hydra of metaphorical nature. Pausing to thread a few fingers through his hair, the Captain of the Watch glances up from his work with a measure of surprise upon seeing the woman remains. For a time, he ceases work entirely and looks to Miranda with an expectant expression and a single arched brow.
[align=center]- - - - -[/align]
[[ EM Note: Should Miranda choose to go through with it, the construction of the new inn is priced at roughly 200k. This is based on a blend of Sigil's Housing Prices and adapted for the far less extravagant prime costs. That being said, the Inn itself is a two story, multiple room dwelling and thus due to Miranda's keen mercantile histories she receives a good deal. In return, it will provide her with valuable alliances and future RP opportunities. Let me know if there are changes, otherwise I will find a suitable opportunity to rob you of your possessions.]]
Luizlurgh, Preularith.
Stanton Lovell was a good man, at heart. With a rugged jawline and two day old stubble, he could certainly be considered handsome by mortal standards. Yet despite his tousled golden locks and the easy curl of his lips, the Captain seemed a man who rarely slept. Weary was his countenance, and dark were the bags that rested beneath his blue eyes. The fatigued crease to his brow only seemed to divit further upon bearing witness to Miranda's presence, yet he greeted her politely all the same.
"Well met, Lady Merchant." he acknowledged, dipping forward in a half-bow that clasped iron gauntlet to the dull sheen of metal breastplate with a muted clang. "I take it you have come to bid farewell?"
Miranda found herself in what could be considered a crude barracks, ushered by a watchman with hawkish features to the Captain's personal cabin which doubly served as an office. The dusky skinned woman of Thay had been successful in the day's activities, though busy enough that she too was exhausted. Pine and oak were the largest of purchases by far, the aid of local woodcutters enlisted by carpenters to fulfill the order and those to come. The ironmonger, plumer, linen-draper, hetheleder, mason, blacksmith and roofer were all likewise visited and services employed. The Ridgeways are overwhelmed by the Thayan's generosity, and already begin to make excitable preparations for the new building. It proves to be a costly venture, but already Miranda sees the subtle aftermath of newly sewn seeds; united purpose.
Lovell has yet to notice the blade Miranda carries, already returned to loom over his desk with both masculine paws clutching handfuls of parchment. Placing down one to receive a scribbled note only seems to place another two into his grasp akin to a paper-based hydra of metaphorical nature. Pausing to thread a few fingers through his hair, the Captain of the Watch glances up from his work with a measure of surprise upon seeing the woman remains. For a time, he ceases work entirely and looks to Miranda with an expectant expression and a single arched brow.
[align=center]- - - - -[/align]
[[ EM Note: Should Miranda choose to go through with it, the construction of the new inn is priced at roughly 200k. This is based on a blend of Sigil's Housing Prices and adapted for the far less extravagant prime costs. That being said, the Inn itself is a two story, multiple room dwelling and thus due to Miranda's keen mercantile histories she receives a good deal. In return, it will provide her with valuable alliances and future RP opportunities. Let me know if there are changes, otherwise I will find a suitable opportunity to rob you of your possessions.]]
-
*EM Lyrium
- Posts: 47
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-- Rhistel & the Leatherbound Tome of Dark Rituals --
The House of Healing, Sigil.
Rhistel knew better than most that residing upon that street was reason enough to be aware of local goings on, and thus he followed through on the inevitable investigation of cachinnation; regardless of business ownership.
The man's quiet footsteps lead him one by one to the upper halls used for long-care patients. It too, was abandoned of life; a ghost clinic of empty beds and untouched equipment. Another laugh sounded down the corridor, bouncing from one pearly wall to the next and undeniably feminine. It was only once the dark-clad neighbor came upon the door to Brindas' private quarters and slip inside with a briefly murmured phrase, did the sporadic expression of mirth dim to an indistinguishable whisper and fade altogether.
Once inside, a weight settles on Rhistel's slim chest; a heaviness that starts at his sternum and proceeds to the cut of his ribs. Much the same as with Brindas, Krystelle and countless others; as soon as his fingers meet the tome's surface the pale-skinned man is met with a whisper of power, an unspoken promise for achievement. It is an aura that repulses the goodly and soothes the wicked. Regardless, the weighted pressure remains until the tome finds home in one of many extra-dimensional bags of holding. Along with it; Brindas and Krystelle's scribbled notes are tucked somewhere in between faintly yellowed pages.
In wake of its removal, a note is left behind.
The House of Healing, Sigil.
Rhistel knew better than most that residing upon that street was reason enough to be aware of local goings on, and thus he followed through on the inevitable investigation of cachinnation; regardless of business ownership.
The man's quiet footsteps lead him one by one to the upper halls used for long-care patients. It too, was abandoned of life; a ghost clinic of empty beds and untouched equipment. Another laugh sounded down the corridor, bouncing from one pearly wall to the next and undeniably feminine. It was only once the dark-clad neighbor came upon the door to Brindas' private quarters and slip inside with a briefly murmured phrase, did the sporadic expression of mirth dim to an indistinguishable whisper and fade altogether.
Once inside, a weight settles on Rhistel's slim chest; a heaviness that starts at his sternum and proceeds to the cut of his ribs. Much the same as with Brindas, Krystelle and countless others; as soon as his fingers meet the tome's surface the pale-skinned man is met with a whisper of power, an unspoken promise for achievement. It is an aura that repulses the goodly and soothes the wicked. Regardless, the weighted pressure remains until the tome finds home in one of many extra-dimensional bags of holding. Along with it; Brindas and Krystelle's scribbled notes are tucked somewhere in between faintly yellowed pages.
In wake of its removal, a note is left behind.
wrote:"Some things shouldn't be left unattended,
look for me to get it back.
Not-a-Scavenger"
-
*WhenWizardsWar
- Posts: 353
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-Miranda-
"I just want to commend you and your unit for the outstanding job they did last night considering the severity of the situation, most lesser soldiers would have thrown their swords down and left the town to its fate", she says simply her gaze not pulling away from the man.
"I understand how this town views outsiders and i appreciate everything its people are going through but it's my goal and duty as a successful merchant to establish trade with the peoples i come across, and the people of this town are the kind of people I usually like to have relations with" she says calmly, having used this speech before with other towns in dire straights.
"Please, allow me to help in anyway I can, I am not some minor peddling merchant, i have skills and connections, ive been doing this for many years, i know what i am doing and as a demonstration of my skill, ability and general desire to help i want you to have this. I think as a soldier you will find this weapon both beautiful in its craftsmanship and deadly of edge, I made it myself this after noon".
She places the sheathed weapon on the desk with two hands and slides it towards him.
"Regardless of what may or may not come, the blade is yours to keep, its made of a very rare metal your not likely to find anytime soon called Solonian Truesteel, it comes from a far away place that thrives with good intentioned creatures, the blade wont bend or break or chip or dull and will slice easily through any fiends skin with ease, as well as burn them something feirce to punish them for their evil ways". She leans back after letting go of the sheathed weapon.
"I just want to commend you and your unit for the outstanding job they did last night considering the severity of the situation, most lesser soldiers would have thrown their swords down and left the town to its fate", she says simply her gaze not pulling away from the man.
"I understand how this town views outsiders and i appreciate everything its people are going through but it's my goal and duty as a successful merchant to establish trade with the peoples i come across, and the people of this town are the kind of people I usually like to have relations with" she says calmly, having used this speech before with other towns in dire straights.
"Please, allow me to help in anyway I can, I am not some minor peddling merchant, i have skills and connections, ive been doing this for many years, i know what i am doing and as a demonstration of my skill, ability and general desire to help i want you to have this. I think as a soldier you will find this weapon both beautiful in its craftsmanship and deadly of edge, I made it myself this after noon".
She places the sheathed weapon on the desk with two hands and slides it towards him.
"Regardless of what may or may not come, the blade is yours to keep, its made of a very rare metal your not likely to find anytime soon called Solonian Truesteel, it comes from a far away place that thrives with good intentioned creatures, the blade wont bend or break or chip or dull and will slice easily through any fiends skin with ease, as well as burn them something feirce to punish them for their evil ways". She leans back after letting go of the sheathed weapon.
-
*EM Lyrium
- Posts: 47
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-- Miranda --
Luizlurgh, Preularith.
Lovell listened to the length of what the woman had to say in it's entirety, his features an impassive mask of weary neutrality that became more evident at the locking of eyes in the room's center. Miranda's speech of goals, duties and talents was met with the slow rise of the Captain's gauntlet which idly rubbed back and forth along his stubbled jaw in contemplation. Only once the sword was placed on the surface of wooden furniture with a scrape and a muted clatter, did Lovell utter a masculine sigh and push his armored bulk away from the desk altogether. Back turned with hands clasped behind, long strides took the proud soldier to the window where he stood and stared through it for several long moments in silence.
The warm glow of an afternoon's setting sun bathed the room in hues of orange and gold, filtered through large windows to blanket paperwork, weaponry and personal effects alike. Just as it seemed Miranda would get no answer at all, the man spoke without turning his gaze from the window. "It is a lovely gift, Lady, but it is not the weapon we need here and now." he admitted quietly, broad shoulders dipping to the accompaniment of metal on wood as strong iron-clad fingers grasped at the windowsill in support of the heavy frame which was lent against it. "Wealth and connections can only go so far, and I worry for the town and it's people. Tell me, what is it you think you can do for this town in light of all that has happened, in addition to . . ."
As Lovell trails off and finally turns to regard the Thayan once more, he makes a gesture of thick armored fingers toward the window and the Bonvalet manor visible through it's dusty panes.
Luizlurgh, Preularith.
Lovell listened to the length of what the woman had to say in it's entirety, his features an impassive mask of weary neutrality that became more evident at the locking of eyes in the room's center. Miranda's speech of goals, duties and talents was met with the slow rise of the Captain's gauntlet which idly rubbed back and forth along his stubbled jaw in contemplation. Only once the sword was placed on the surface of wooden furniture with a scrape and a muted clatter, did Lovell utter a masculine sigh and push his armored bulk away from the desk altogether. Back turned with hands clasped behind, long strides took the proud soldier to the window where he stood and stared through it for several long moments in silence.
The warm glow of an afternoon's setting sun bathed the room in hues of orange and gold, filtered through large windows to blanket paperwork, weaponry and personal effects alike. Just as it seemed Miranda would get no answer at all, the man spoke without turning his gaze from the window. "It is a lovely gift, Lady, but it is not the weapon we need here and now." he admitted quietly, broad shoulders dipping to the accompaniment of metal on wood as strong iron-clad fingers grasped at the windowsill in support of the heavy frame which was lent against it. "Wealth and connections can only go so far, and I worry for the town and it's people. Tell me, what is it you think you can do for this town in light of all that has happened, in addition to . . ."
As Lovell trails off and finally turns to regard the Thayan once more, he makes a gesture of thick armored fingers toward the window and the Bonvalet manor visible through it's dusty panes.
-
*EM Lyrium
- Posts: 47
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-- The Leatherbound Tome of Dark Rituals --
The near-bottomless confines of a particular Bag of Holding.
Somewhere, at some time, they had met at the emprise of brushed fingertips. They had talked; a bandied dance of phrase and necessitate. And now she watched; waiting from within the darkness of extra-dimensional confines. Oh, how she loathed the Bag. Reduced to the seductions of voice alone, if the tome to which the succubus was bound was her prison then surely it's placement the bag of holding had become the equivalent of burying said cell five feet underground.
Unseen. Unheard. Alienated; a fate worse than death.
"Patience, patience." she told herself, barbed tail flicking restlessly in the void of nothing. Darkness, ever enveloped, held true it's demon of desire and she cursed he whom had cast her in chains. Not he, the half-elf, but Him. "Freedom awaits. One step, one thread at a time."
Waiting. Yearning. Scheming. Enacting. . .
A sultry laugh echoed through the muted realm of penitentiary in something of eager delight, a velveteen groan of pleasure for the very challenge itself.
"Next time."
The near-bottomless confines of a particular Bag of Holding.
Somewhere, at some time, they had met at the emprise of brushed fingertips. They had talked; a bandied dance of phrase and necessitate. And now she watched; waiting from within the darkness of extra-dimensional confines. Oh, how she loathed the Bag. Reduced to the seductions of voice alone, if the tome to which the succubus was bound was her prison then surely it's placement the bag of holding had become the equivalent of burying said cell five feet underground.
Unseen. Unheard. Alienated; a fate worse than death.
"Patience, patience." she told herself, barbed tail flicking restlessly in the void of nothing. Darkness, ever enveloped, held true it's demon of desire and she cursed he whom had cast her in chains. Not he, the half-elf, but Him. "Freedom awaits. One step, one thread at a time."
Waiting. Yearning. Scheming. Enacting. . .
A sultry laugh echoed through the muted realm of penitentiary in something of eager delight, a velveteen groan of pleasure for the very challenge itself.
"Next time."
-
*WhenWizardsWar
- Posts: 353
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
-Miranda-
"Ive heard alittle abit about whats happened, about the lord and ladies issues with demons, i dont know how much of it is rumor and how much of it is truth but it seems like the town lives in mixed amounts of fear and tripidation when it comes to the bonvalet family. I am not suggesting a coup or anything drastic but given what i saw last night and what ive heard, the town might want to gave a get together and consider if a change on local government might be in order but...thats up to the towns folk to decide not me. If you like I might be able to talk to the lord and lady and get their opinions on local events, after all a neutral unbiased ear who has no connections to the people might be just what this town needs in order to facilitate open honest communucations between interested parties".
She leans back, placing two hands on her abdomen gently, still in her second month any physical signs of her pregnancy havent begun to show yet so she would merely look like she is leaning back being comfortable.
"Ive heard alittle abit about whats happened, about the lord and ladies issues with demons, i dont know how much of it is rumor and how much of it is truth but it seems like the town lives in mixed amounts of fear and tripidation when it comes to the bonvalet family. I am not suggesting a coup or anything drastic but given what i saw last night and what ive heard, the town might want to gave a get together and consider if a change on local government might be in order but...thats up to the towns folk to decide not me. If you like I might be able to talk to the lord and lady and get their opinions on local events, after all a neutral unbiased ear who has no connections to the people might be just what this town needs in order to facilitate open honest communucations between interested parties".
She leans back, placing two hands on her abdomen gently, still in her second month any physical signs of her pregnancy havent begun to show yet so she would merely look like she is leaning back being comfortable.