REQUIEM WIKI

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On the evening of the 30th of Warmind, 1347 AS an attack upon the Templar Camp was orchestrated by the insurgent group known as the Forlorn Hope. The goal of this heinous assault was the assassination of our Archbishop, Johan Landcaster. Through the Flame’s grace, they were unsuccessful in this goal and the Archbishop is currently alive and well. Our findings show a weaponized version of the Torment in the form of miasma was utilized to cause disarray and destruction to the stationed Templars. During the chaos, a contingent of Forlorn Hope soldiers was sent within the Arcem Caelum Vultus ('the Vault') where Warbishop Alexandrov and Archbishop Landcaster resided. Shortly after springing their attack, the insurgents were cut down by the Inquisition troops stationed within. Both Warbishop Alexandrov and Archbishop Landcaster escaped safely from the Vault. It is thanks to the actions of the Venerated Inquisition Corps and The Warbishop himself that this devious attempt upon the sanctity of this Republic was thwarted.

Inquisitors responded quickly to the outbreak and were successful in its containment. All five hundred of the stationed Templar fell to the plight and have since been burned and given last rites by Inquisition forces. The number of Forlorn Hope present during the attack is currently unknown.

The Archbishop has been transported via locomotive under the protection of Foundry troops and is set to arrive in Redholme City within the week. Lord Constable Amos Montgomery has chosen to personally escort the Archbishop to Redholme and will be relieved of his duties within this Province henceforth. Lord Chancellor Obadiah Duffield has been appointed to take his place and is currently arranging passage to The First Province. He is expected to arrive within a fortnight.

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Article by Jeane Harlow

With each passing week, it becomes more apparent that the Ancestry Treasury Museum has canonized itself as a beacon of the Province’s center of civilized society. Through the efforts of the refined staff and the public’s good sense, since its reopening, the Museum has provided us with various cultural and celebratory events to provide respite from the otherwise bleak circumstances of our situation.

Fresh off the successful evening of a masquerade gala, the venue is now being prepared for a weeklong special exhibit provided by the Fort residents themselves. Led by the efforts of local artist Hollis Maeby, the Museum will host a variety of works from artists and craftsmen for a weeklong exhibition of the talents and creativity of our friends and neighbors.

Initially, the event was to be held at the Meddlers Rest, but the organizers sought a larger venue in the Museum due to public interest mounting. This decision to move to a larger space was a mutually advantageous one, as the Museum was more than happy to host as they await their new exhibit traveling in from outside the Province.

Installations will include works by Miss Maeby herself and other noted members of the artist community within the walls of the Fort, including Kenna Fogwyn and Adalar. In addition, Tradespeople have also volunteered to showcase some of their wares, having pledged art pieces in the form of exemplary crafted goods. While many of these installations are for the public enjoyment and appreciation, some works will be listed for sale.

Gallery Exhibit will run from the 7th to the 14th of Goldleaf and feature various works from Fort Praesidium’s local artists and tradesmen. The Museum will also debut select historical paintings with a special thanks extended to Miss Maeby as having been vital to assisting them in the restoration process from their state of disrepair.

Opening night will be on the evening of the 7th; the semi-formal affair will include a special performance by Mote, with food and drink provided by the Meddlers Risk. If you cannot make the opening, the exhibit will run all next week with live music performed by pianist Lowri Pierce.

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An Open Letter from Kaelius Mercantile & Acquisitions (Dictation by Doctor Theo Hanlon)

Having observed the marketplace and our peers over the past year, Kaelius' Mercantile & Acquisitions would like to address the current state of economic matters. We have witnessed recurring trends of merchants charging too low a fee or not charging at all for their services. Whether you are a farmer, gatherer, warrior, or crafter, everyone should be appropriately compensated for their work to sustain healthy economic trade. We want to encourage all fellow tradespeople to work together, adopt fair pricing, and not participate in drastic undercutting tactics.

At KM&A, we pride ourselves on quality and fair costs and strive to see a stable economy so that we may strengthen our community. To do so, we try to ensure that essential items are reasonably affordable, and our fees reflect the cost of materials used and all included time and labor necessary to gather them. Those working in the mines, hunting prey for fur and pelts, gathering timber, and searching for precious recipe designs from a more civil time deserve a living befitting their labors. So too, do the tradesmen and women who process, form, and shape our tools for survival in these harsh times. Equally as much as the apprentices, shop keeps, and every hand propping up what is left of our society. To undercut any part of the whole discourages the efforts of the individual.

Some prices are so drastically low within the market that they would not even recoup enough to cover rental fees or the income for employees selling the item. For example, finely crafted furniture and goods sell for less than the cost of the material used to make them. Larger, more permanent pieces with limited demand are undervalued and sold at a significant loss. To stay competitive within the marketplace, even we can be found guilty of underpricing and are willing to address such accordingly. We also do not mean to imply that bartering is unacceptable, so long as the traded items are of equal value and no party involved is being taken advantage of unjustly.

While some believe such charitable prices are an act of kindness, they will only strain the economy in the long run. Charity may be a noble cause, but offering your services for minimal costs or, worse, for free is not sustainable. Take care to not let anyone falsely guilt you into lowering your fees to less than the worth of your time and labor. Doing such can ruin the livelihood of those who may not have access to the resources you do. Anyone lamenting the hardship of affording things isn't being entirely truthful. Even our dear Viola, with little to no real combat experience to her name, could accumulate funds doing a fraction of what those more skilled could manage with ease and regularity. The efforts of a hunter, gatherer, or tradespeople are no different than your skilled veteran delving in the darkness for lost coin and artifacts. So similar is their risk of relying on the economy to feed and clothe them just as another's martial prowess.

Romulus Kaelius had a vision of bringing a thriving economy of forward progress to this province. Our loss is profound, but KM&A endeavors to continue his vision and bring about a true change to the region, one to pave the way for a flourishing society. We have established public lectures, mines, and a wealth of goods and those efforts have reaped many benefits for all. We owe our success to being a company that has spent years cultivating our team and trading amongst ourselves. We know that our earnings compensate all members and allow us to work together as a well-oiled machine as we assist one another with any and all tasks outside our own specialties.

Nonetheless, we are not immune to the weakness in the foundations of our shared market space; some of our own were still forced to cease trading. Merchants without the advantage of similar teamwork may fare far worse. The economy is tenuous and only as strong as its weakest link. Undercutting your fellow tradesperson's time and value could topple the entire system. We do not wish to see the barren stalls that were encountered when we first arrived within the walls of Prae again. We must all band together, value one another, and build a stronger union to endure the coming days.

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Advice Column by Doctor Theo Hanlon

Could you use some helpful advice? Write your questions to the Frontier Herald Offices addressed to Dr. Hanlon to be featured in upcoming issues! - - -

Doctor: I usually travel north to collect berries, but I may have gone too far and ran into an old, ugly woman living in a secluded shack. I scrambled out of there and the hag shouted at me, but gave no pursuit. Ever since that scary encounter, my skin exudes a terrible moldy smell and all my clothes slowly turn green! I try to wash them every other day, but trying to make ends meet is hard as it is without having to purchase new clothes every week! What do I do? Green doesn’t really suit my eyes, I’m terrified! - A young woman who hates green

Dear Hating Green: You may have stumbled into something you are allergic to or caught a potential illness. You may need to be seen and treated, and soaking your clothes in a vinegar wash should aid with the discoloration and attempts to clean them more thoroughly. There is also the possibility that this old hag you met may have a resolution to this as well. Seeing as she’s maintained a residence in that area, she would be keen to know what could have caused this affliction and offer guidance to rectify the situation. I would consider going back to see her. Bring a suitable gift to serve as an apology as you technically trespassed on her land. Making amends with her may make a difference. Those who survive the unrelenting wilderness tend to have remedies that could rival even the most educated. I do wish you the best of luck. - - -

Doctor Hanlon: How do you deal with your patients making unwanted advances while you treat them? As an aspiring doctor I struggle with this more often than not. - Weary Apprentice

Dear Weary Apprentice: Welcome to the exciting field of medicine. I can assure you that nearly every physician has been in your shoes regarding this matter. Ultimately it takes practice to keep composed in these types of situations. Personally, I find that keeping your expression passive while treating patients tends to help significantly. If someone is too forward, then attempt an expression of extreme disinterest. Learn to be completely unimpressed by anything that may be revealed to you during an exam and treatment. Flirtations tend to stall if they feel you find them lacking in certain areas. If that fails, then simply charge them extra. An inconvenience fee, if you will. Worst case scenario, do not ever feel like you cannot end service to someone who is treating you disrespectfully. Glad to have you among us, and good luck. - - -

Dear Doctor: I have a friend who I think the world of. I care so much for them and would do anything for them. I cherish them. They recently told me that they love someone. I am happy for them, but some part of me is jealous too. I didn’t realize I cared for them in that way, and I wonder if that’s it or if I’m just afraid of losing my friend or having less time with them. I don’t want to stand in the way of my friend’s happiness, so I keep quiet about it, but how can I put these feelings aside? I want them to be able to tell me everything, and these intrusive thoughts make me feel so guilty about some part of me being upset by what makes them so happy. How do I stop being so selfish? Why does it hurt that they care for someone else so much more than they do for me? - a jealous friend

Dear Jealous Friend: I am very sorry for the situation you have found yourself in; it can be very painful and complicated. It is possible that it is a product of fear, that you will lose someone you are close to no matter how mundane your relationship with one another is. The idea of loss can cause a tidal wave of emotions. It is also possible that your feelings were more profound than you realized. Lastly, you could simply be jealous of their happiness in general. Finding happiness can be exceptionally challenging in the world we live in, enough to make others who are without irrationally selfish. You first must try your best to search within yourself and distinguish how you genuinely feel. Once you accept your own truth, you will be better able to approach your friendship. Any of the above possibilities can still be painful to work through. Still, once you process your emotions, you will be in a better place to truly be there for your friend and move forward. Of course, having clear and open communication with your friend will aid you both in navigating this road and having the best chance for a good outcome for everyone involved. I wish you luck; matters of the heart are intricate and complex. Even something seemingly simple as friendship.

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Society Update by Olivia Buttonwillow

A few weeks have now passed since the glitz and glamor of this year's premier event of the season; a Woodland themed ball hosted by our very own Cornelius Sindelar and housed at the fully remodeled museum in Old Town. The night was filled with dancing, libations and perhaps a bit of heartache?

The owner and operator of The Meddler’s Risk, known only by first the name Constantine, was seen going stag in quite the fetching burgundy ensemble despite his rumored sweetheart, Doctor Drusilla being in attendance. The doctor was seen being quite cozy with an unidentified man with black hair wearing an iridescent suit and top hat. Her male company did not go unnoticed by Constantine who spent most of his evening stealing clandestine glances at the budding couple.

The ball was also attended by several members of the de Ravin Parish who have been scarce at best these last several months. The rest and relaxation away from the public must have done them well, as every lady and gentleman from the Parish were dressed to the nines and quite polished. Nicolien de Ravin and who this writer presumes was her red haired sister Graelynn de Ravin were seen taking turns dancing with a strapping young man with long and curiously white hair. The ravishing de Ravin sister was seen sneaking off to the upper story of the museum to get in some alone time with the mysterious man. Do these sisters perhaps have their eyes on the same prize?

The evening would not have been complete without not one, but two performances by the talented and ever well dressed, Quincy Everhard, beloved minstrel of the First Province. Mister Everhard took the stage in a dramatic fashion and before playing his first set, descended the stage and cut through the crowd to personally deliver a beautiful clutch of flowers to a masked blonde in a tightly fitted red gown. This writer was able to suss out the identity of this captivating crimson coquette as local craftswoman Hollis Maeby, who’s relations with Mister Everhard seem to be the Province's worst kept secret.

As a main attraction for the evening Doctor Sindelar started the auction which featured phenomenally made shoes and weapons; neither of which excite this writer. Though in a surprising turn of events a fair raven-haired woman was called to the stage and introduced as Evangeline Aldonis, who had agreed to a date with whoever might be the highest bidder! The bidding started off slow before a bidding war started between the aforementioned silver haired gentleman and local entrepreneur Constantine, resulting in Constantine winning the young woman’s hand and time. During this bidding exchange this writer believes the Doctor Drusilla’s green eyes were even more green than usual with envy.

Though Constantine won his date with the divine Evangeline Aldonis some weeks ago now, rumor has it the eligible bachelor has yet to take the young woman on a date at all! Was this poor woman used as a pawn to make the poor Doctor jealous? This writer thinks so, but I will leave it up to you to decide for yourself.

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An Open Letter from Biduken Azar (Dictation by Djemidor Viridius)

Have we truly fallen so far as a people?

This is a question I directly pose to everyone that currently resides, not just in Fort Praesidium, but the Province as a whole. Day in and day out, we live under constant threat of outside forces. Some days it's as simple as the local wildlife, some days it's merely a quick culling of a few too many Rattus that have come topside from the sewers. The worst of days it's Torment and Afflicted, it's Diabolists and Pagans. But never in my life have I seen the degradation of what makes the Republic society great: Its people.

We preach the Virtues, but practice none of them. We shun the beggars and the refugees that live in squalor, we pile trash in every corner and avenue of the Fort. We allow for goods and services to be priced exorbitantly high-just for basic necessities like food or drink!

Did we come to the Province for an easy life? We did not.

Did we come to the Province for the idea of riches? We should not.

Did we come to the Province merely to shed our identity? We may not.

Did we truly come to the Province to spurn our fellow Man?

That last question is one I pose you now, Citizens of the Republic. We need to re-evaluate our priorities. We need to not only be strong and well-minded in the face of adversity, but be kind. Be as genius, or as ingenious, as Decus himself intended to teach us; Clean up the trash, help your fellow man, show kindness to the downtrodden and show hope for those that come after us. We have strayed too far to what makes us not only Citizens of the Republic, but Human. We need to return to those simple ideas, people of the Province. The dark outsiders of Eden have already claimed a portion of Vitaveus, and we need to bring light and flame back to those places.

Brush yourselves past your selfishness, your ignorance, and your pride. See that the world is coming down around you. Work together not as one with a single interest, but one of many with a unified interest. To those who balk and sneer at these words, consider this:

When you are a single star in the sky, you are alone in your doom. Your inevitable suffering.

Merely because you turned away from what is right, true, and kind.

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The following two articles showcase the ability of two talented writers who are asking the public help them settle a friendly competition. Please read the below articles and submit your chosen favorite to the Herald Offices no later than the date of our next issued publication deadline.

For your efforts, voter names will be put into a lottery with a cash prize. For each vote submitted by our readers, 1 silver will be added to the lottery winnings - so be sure to encourage everyone you know to participate! (DISCLAIMER: Votes will only be tallied by full names verified against Foundry Bank Account Registration). The winner of the lottery, as well as the voting results, will be announced in our next issue!

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It was windy outside, a cold drizzle to slowly creep into the coats of everyone sitting at the stage atop the Heart and Hale. Why would a score of responsible, hard-working Republicans wait out in the cold and rain, the reader might ask? Why, if that's the price for a lecture by esteemed doctor Theo Hanlon, then it's as good as it gets! Yours truly even had the fortune (and pleasure) to land an interview with the Yult, but I'll grace your eyes with that down the line.

Doctor Hanlon brought to our attention more than a few helpful prevention measures against two dire medical conditions: the Black Lung disease (whose correct denomination I will mercifully spare you from) and the widespread dysentery that has been smearing the reckless with the stains of their own misdeeds. The physician went to great lengths to explain both diseases, perhaps a little farther than I would've hoped for the sake of my gag reflexes. Still, considering the wealth of information directed at the populace at risk, a necessary evil, I'm sure.

We found ourselves sitting around an ample table of said tavern, accompanied by both the knowledgeable Mr. Haim and Hollis Maeby, the versatile craftswoman who defies sleeping schedules. Proof of Doctor Hanlon's character is that she didn't mind sharing the table for our interview, thus allowing others to witness her take to each of my questions. And what a set of questions I had waiting for her!

Interviewer: “Was devoting your life to Medicine a mistake?” Doctor Theo Hanlon: “Oh, goodness, no. I feel I would have eventually found my way to it one way or another. That being said, not learning more defensive skills might be a regret”

Interviewer: “I'm particularly interested in your way of conducting an examination. Is it livelier than expected?” Hanlon: “I do not quite catch your meaning there. Is conducting an examination livelier than expected, as in… not so mundane a thing?”

Interviewer: “You seemed to have received spicy correspondence directed at your dating status” Hanlon: “That, I must say, goes over my head. I do not handle examinations in any way that would give any indication of, well, interest in the patient outside of treatments”

Interviewer: “Very well. What is your take for a professional who refuses to accept payment for their services?” Hanlon: “A few things, honestly. Firstly, it depends on how long they've been in the field”

Interviewer: “Right.” Hanlon: “I tend to find that the younger doctors, as most of us do, start out with goodwill. All they want is to be the light in the darkness and aid and heal people. I can understand that sentiment, and was even guilty of it in my younger days, to be honest”

Interviewer: “Please, go on”. Hanlon: “It is a seemingly noble thing, no? Offering such, at times life-saving, services for free? However, the more you get into it… the more you are only hurting yourself”

Interviewer: “I see” Hanlon: “People will either take advantage of you, or you will work your way into debts. I always try to impress the cost of being a physician. Or any profession, really. You -need- to not devalue yourself, your worth, and your services.”

Interviewer: “Remarkable. This next question can be deemed a hard one, so maybe you'd like something to drink?” Hanlon: “Ask it”

Interviewer: “Would you consider the refuse piling around the Fort to be unsanitary and a hazard that may further endanger the lives of the people living in this place?” Hanlon: “Well, yes, obviously, especially if it gets out of hand. I do not think the Province is well-equipped to handle it at times, and especially lately, but refuse in general isn't harmful unless people are just… in it at all times.”

Interviewer: “Oh, is it not?” Hanlon: “Probably need to coordinate some sort of ditch and burn event to try to rid some of it.”

Interviewer: “What is your take that the person aiming to rid the refuse around is not related to the medical profession?” Hanlon: “I wouldn't have thought about it, honestly, if you hadn't asked. We physicians can at times have a narrowed field of vision.”

Interviewer: “Please, continue”. Hanlon: “Especially during times of chaos, or many injuries or illness. You are not wrong, though, that even our lives would be made easier if the root cause was taken care of properly.”

Interviewer: “I appreciate your honesty, Doctor Hanlon. I'm sure our readers will too.” Hanlon: “Just because we're doctors doesn't mean we're perfect. No one is.”

Interviewer: “I have just one last question for you.” Hanlon: “Just one?”

Interviewer: “Ever since you've been here, how would you rate the changes you've been able to instill in the everyday lives of the people living in this settlement?” Hanlon: “I … wouldn't.”

Interviewer: “I see.” Hanlon: “I would not feel right to lay claim on any changes to the lives of those here. I would leave that to you all to decide. It would not be my place to put myself on any sort of pedestal.”

As our readers can see, Decus is ever watchful of his people: though we may be blighted by grave afflictions, Doctor Hanlon's rigorous training in the field has made (and will make) the difference to keep the balance. I'd advise all those able to seek her during office hours, as she is proficient to address maladies of both mind and body; trust yours truly on this.

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I think I saw her once.

In certain areas of cities like Tor and Redholme, older women of western descent are often met with furtive glances and followed by speculative whispers.

“Could it really be her?” “See the pouches hanging from her belts? Only alchemists arrange them thusly.”

“She has the scars…”

And so on, and so forth.

And she certainly was dressed shabbily enough. Sooty clothes…. Wiry, unkempt hair… a wrinkled, careworn face.

I thought she looked sad, as she hobbled down the street, passing in front of the abandoned House of the Fulminating Cloud. She paid it not a second's notice.

The story (or rather, stories) of Pirouette Manners are ones I am very familiar with, as I feel a certain kinship with her. She is a recurring figure in the urban lore of many cities and towns of the Eastern Baronies. Many times some kind of strange alchemical substance, explosives or a potion is needed for a story, it is either a product of Pirouettes or she has a presence in the story herself. Especially if said story requires that the substance have bizarre side-effects.

Pirouette Manners was an orphan, abandoned by her birth mother just before the turn of the century. According to the stories, she was left on the steps before the House of Fulminating Clouds in Tor. This would forever fuel rumors that she was the illegitimate daughter of one of the alchemists who studied there, but it is claimed as fact only in apocryphal stories.

She was sent to an orphanage, where she grew up to be an intelligent, curious and creative young woman. Having been a bit of a wild child, when Pirouette reached her teenage years, the matron set about attempting to domesticate her. She met limited success.

She did not get along well with the other children. She took every slight as most dire inveighing against her person, and was careful to cultivate an air of indifference otherwise. Adults also quickly grew tired of her over-precocious manner.

To cooking, though, Pirouette took like a fish (a grilled one!) in water (sweet lemon sauce!) The flexibility and freedom, how easy it was to correct mistakes and enhance flavors with but a moment's thought all appealed to her. She was making scrumptious feasts with minimal ingredients by the time she was sixteen.

So it should come as no surprise that the much more rigid and precise science of baking thwarted her at every turn. She would burn bread, turn out rock hard cakes, and wallow in endless amounts of soggy, pale and pathetic pies. She wanted to try to do things from memory, with her own twist, but she did not have the knack for it.

And as for cleanliness… The girl was a nightmare. If you were to watch her cook, you would assume she rarely got most of the ingredients in the meal! She only cleaned up after herself when she needed to for another recipe.

The orphanage would have thrown her out the moment she reached adulthood had she not fled some time before. Gathering only a single change of clothes and some bedsheets, she leapt out a window and into the night, and was never seen by the matron again.

Having heard the tale of how she was left at the steps of the alchemy atelier, Pirouette made her way there and demanded to be taught by the man she suspected was her father, Falaven Thrace. She had no coin or references, nor any prior understanding of alchemy, and was thus rejected.

Here, the stories of Pirouette Manners begin, and many are contradictory.

Some claim she spent months hanging around the Fulminating Cloud, rummaging through their trash, peeking in windows and stalking anyone who went in and out of the place.

Sadly, there’s few solid details about the early fumbling stages of her career. The most loved tales tend to favor the era where Crin Cashua provided her enough stability to experiment and create. There are things you can piece together, though, but it goes without saying that much of it may be apocryphal.

One consistent detail is that she clubbed unconscious an alchemist for his keys, and used them to raid the Fulminating Cloud for all the texts, tools and reagents she could carry. The good were then squirreled away to a lair in the sewers.

There she set out to master the alchemical arts, and there she failed. It did not take long before she destroyed every last tool and text and had nothing to show for it, besides a single bottle of wine. How she created it, none know.

With no coin, tools or reagents, she wound on the streets once again, surviving day to day on scraps and sleeping in alleys, all the while cradling her bottle of wine.

She must have been a curious sight, dressed in burnt, stained and oversized alchemist's robes, adorned with fragments of broken tools and glass and who knows what else. The garbage she ate, probably.

That is the only explanation I can offer as to why she was taken in by the infamously and powerfully stupid Housto Draconis, leader of a small gang of thugs in Tor. He set her to work in one of the warehouses they squatted in, and it was not long before her talent for cooking was rediscovered. And for some reason, he loved her pies.

The foolish Housto decided to have Pirouette run a tavern for him. It was not long before Pirouette nearly burnt it down during a busy winter night. She had decided to try baking two pies and a meatloaf in the same oven, at ‘thrice the speed’.

The deservedly maligned Housto Draconis, a jovial but dim man who looked like a slab of greasy gristle, went to the tavern every day to order his ‘lunch pie’, a specialty of Pirouettes. It was a greasy mess of fish, minced beef, soggy pastry, gravy, a fistful or more of pepper and onions that the big man had ‘designed’ himself. Dumb old Housto was also its sole consumer and he loved it dearly.

Given Pirouette’s habits, the recipe changed constantly, and one day poor stupid Housto commented as much. Pirouette immediately took up arms and proceeded to strike him thrice about the nose with a wooden spoon, and then jumped upon him. The tavern's patrons were forced to separate the two.

Setting aside those sort of mishaps (which were frequent), the tavern was very successful, and the coin started to roll in. By all accounts, Pirouette seemed happy, but privately, the shadow of Falaven Thrace must have loomed over her. As business improved, the dimwitted Housto was persuaded by Pirouette to set up a small workshop in  the backrooms.

Her stolen texts were long destroyed, but that was okay. She knew she was smart enough to go by memory. She began to spend much of her free time in the workshops and it was during this time she produced two products.

The first was the ‘Hair of Pirouette.’ Pirouette claimed that it was better than ‘hair of the dog’, as a hangover remedy or prevention. It was her only product known to function fully and correctly, but there were still oddities about it. She made every batch differently, so it always tasted delicious in completely different ways. She also recommended aging it to improve the flavor by leaving it in the sun for several days.

The second product was ‘Pirouette’s Incredible Hair ReGrowth Tonic’, which seemed to temporarily blind most people for a couple days as their light sensitivity drastically increased. Pirouette insisted it worked on her, however, but no change in her hair was ever noted.

Very few refunds were ever issued, but knives were being sharpened in dark alleys.

No traces of Pirouette's hair were ever found in either product.

‘Hair of Pirouette’ was very successful for the tavern. I imagine you can guess why. Brainless Housto Draconis tried to establish a new business based on the remedy, but neither he nor Pirouette were good with such things, and the business failed. Many more business attempts followed, an illegal casino (Pirouette’s Roulette) numbering among them, but dumbass Housto just landed himself further and further in debt.

Eventually, he demanded Pirouette use more of her personal time to help him run a higher class tavern in another part of the city, even as she ran the old one. Pirouette began to chafe at his commands.

Then there came an afternoon where, having expected a hot lunch pie and a warm welcome after arriving late, lughead Housto found a cold lunch pie and an empty tavern. Storming into the backrooms, he disturbed an experiment, and the two of them were coated in some manner of substance.

An argument began and they moved back to the common room. Pirouette ultimately wound up dashing the cold lunch pie in the unfortunate Housto’s face, and stormed out the backway after packing a few things.

It is said that Housto sat at the counter for quite some time, picking out bits of fish, pastry and beef out of his hair and off his clothes and lap, and eating it as he did so, staring down at the counter forlornly.

When he had finished salvaging his lunch, he sounded a most toad-like croak, fell over the counter and died immediately.

Pirouette was back on the streets, alone again. But this time she had plenty of silver and she had ideas. And clutched in one hand, was one very special bottle of wine.

And the assassin, Crin Cashua, was still waiting in the wings.

(To Be Continued)

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REPORTERS WANTED! Interested in writing for the Frontier Herald? Leave word for Jeane Harlow at the Foundry’s General Store located southwest of Fort Praesidium to get involved in the upcoming issues!

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