Peace's in Loda, thank the gods. Sure, the Hdal below us are muscling their way in, but it'll be a time afore they can declare war. The Proconcella, bless her heart, doesn't seem to want war any more. Sure, we know it's coming. Hell, Sir Renolds, the Protectorate, is leaning on some of his nobles to come up with some troops. You know how it is with them nobles. That ain't what concerns me.
Yeah, there's Garadesh's men, sure. He keeps pumping in the whores around here, takin' hard liquor and opiates up north, to the bigger cities. They'll cut your head off soon as blink, sure, but they ain't stupid--you're only in danger if you get in their way. They ain't what concerns me.
Huh? The circus? Well, I never heard of a problem from the circus. Ain't been, neither, but they seem fine enough. A little odd, maybe, but they mean well--keep sayin' somethin' about peace. They definitely ain't what concerns me.
What concerns me is the mercenaries down the road--you know, Nine Swords Tavern? Yeah, only really five of them to speak, but the name's stuck. They're out of work, and they got the look of desperate men. You know the type--hungry for somethin', lookin' ta make money 'cause they're goin' under. This peace ain't good for their business, no sir, an' they're dangerous men. You ask me, I think we oughta watch them real close. Stick 'em under a glass, like, cause they might just take down half the town when they get too desperate.
"...The genre is definitely a low fantasy epic, set in something half-Arabian, half-Southern US..."
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