Reives, being a sun-worshiper, recognized the innately divine essence of something round, yellow and shiny. Especially if there were 800 of them ready of the taking, and they could buy you cool things. She decided that she was also going to attempt the trek out into dangerous territory.
She, on the other hand, brought along competent fighting skills, heavy armor and some spells of fiery destruction.
Things were a bit more in her favor than certain other, unmentioned individuals (note: I got Hans out of that situation by casting a spell on him that catapulted him to the complete other side of the map. He decided to take the opportunity to go for a leisurely stroll)
Farther up north, there is now a gigantic mass of gold-hungry heroes and an absolutely massive cluster of skeletons wandering about in search of that reward flag. The discordians are out in force, with 2nd Fiddle dragging along his huge bone posse, with Gamerlord and Sonlirain dragging along their gigantic, massive, hideously overinflated coinpurses that could well have been put towards some healing potions, y'know... Just saying.
Also, congratulations to Sonlirain for now having amassed so much pocket change that the number is too big for his currency field to contain, so it's just started writing itself off the edge of the field and onto other parts of the screen. Of particular note is that you're still actively
carrying all of this around with you, as not one single one of you deemed it necessary to go back home and put it in a box under the bed or something. Maybe you're all afraid some huge spider is gonna take it or something, I don't know. You're all damn crazy.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, our settlement is still trundling along just fine. The latest tax collection bumped our coffers up from 1400 gold pieces to an amount somewhere over 50,000 crowns (our treasurers are having a difficult time putting an accurate number to things, as most of them have run out of fingers and toes by this point). This is why we love caravans and trading posts.
Yes, indeed, everything is just hunky-dory and dull and uneventf-oh fuck.
Ratapults. Because having a bunch of man-rats with filth-encrusted swords come jumping out of the manholes isn't bad enough, you just gotta have some massive siege weapons somehow squeeze their way out of the sewer networks and start hurling big spiked balls filled with evil explosive fart juices. Someone should probably do something.
