Alright then, Beirus, Egan, Derm, Dev and sy instead. With Midnight, whisper, Aoi, toaster and NAV waiting in the wings. Everyone, keep track of your own sheets please, and repost them when you make a post. Makes things much easier for me. If you don't understand how something works, let me know.
Buy stuff now or wait until ingame?
Your choice but it may be better to wait. Just to be more tactical in what you buy after seeing whats going on when you come in.
"Two caravans! Half a dozen bales of spearwheat, six cases of iron bark, At least 10 crates of puncture melons, not to mention the carts, crawlers and men!"
The mayor looks a great deal like an animate tomato with a mustache. Every inch of visible flesh is fat, bulbous, and increasingly red. He paws at the ledger in front of him with overstuffed sausage fingers. The buttons of his white hemp undershirt strain to contain his heaving chest as he shouts. He's wedged in behind the table, in the corner of this office of his, with documents, stacks of coins, several ledgers and an assortment of empty tankards and plates spread out around him.
"Three months they've been camped out there, claiming half our lands for themselves. Stealing food at night, doing unspeakable things with the livestock!" He slams a meaty fist on the table, causing several neat stacks of coins to collapse. "I've formed a militia to defend our homes but none of them are willing to brave the iron woods and bring the fight to those vermin. Lead by a wizard, they are." He spits on the floor. "S'why I've sent for you lot. We're sending out another caravan in three days time, and this time they must get through."
The Mayor stands, the boards of his office creaking greatly under his weight, and walks to the small window across from his desk. His office, tucked away as it is in the rafters of an impossibly large cathedral, looks out not only on the other structures built into the roof and walls, but also out stained glass window that overlooks the fields outside. Fields of metal, aluminum foil grass, branching streetlight trees with metal fruit that burst like nail bombs, acres of spear wheat and a forest of iron pillars rising hundreds of feet all. He rests his hands on the window sill and stares out, drumming stubby nails against the wood.
"We rely on trade. Our harvests are valuable and they let us buy food that we cannot grow. No seed a man can eat will grow in a soil of steel, no river flows but those of quicksilver or molten lead. We are on our last reserves. Anymore and we'll have to abandon this place." He turns back around and points a finger square at the group. "Kill those bandits. Bring me the head of that gods damned wizard captain of theirs and I will pay its weight in silver."
He settles back down behind his desk and stares at you, waiting.