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*The script alternates between a rough and smooth hand, as if written hastily in some places, but it is not illegible.*


The bane of trolls is a house of snakes.
There really can be no mistakes
When, lie for lie, and palm to palm,
We pass off silver coins for calm.

Let's live a little fantasy
And hope the snakes will let us be,
But when they don't- well, who's to blame,
When copper coins clear any name?

What difference is the sacrifice
Of lad or maid to power's vice
Than to a demon, fiend, or drow?
Their crimes don't seem so different now.

We're not all helpless, not all lost
To pragmatism- fear of cost.
So how is it they all slip by
And cover up the victim's cry?

What happened to our isle's heros?
Are they so lost in battle's throes
That quests will lead them all to roam
While evil's heart beats close to home?

We should not have to live in fear
That death is ever looming near,
For this is where the scales will lie
When all the victims fall and die:

Power never measured right.
And though the weak can't win the fight
The truth will stand where we might fall
To break all wrongs and spread the call.


*near the bottom of the parchment is a small symbol that resembles a harp and horn*

*A man in ragged worn armor and a furry collar approaches the town gates, notices the parchment, shrugs and passes through, looking into the street.*

"Troll's Bane."

*guards check the man for weapons, he opens up his cloak, revealing his arsenal - a sword on his back, two strapped daggers on each hip, and a crossbow on a belt. The guards take the crossbow, to which the man is not opposing, and they point to his blades*

"Traveling through or here to settle?"

"Not certain yet, Sir. I was traveling so far."

"Keep them sheathed in this town."

*the man bows and nods*

"I understand."

"You have a name?"

"Yes Sir. Konrad."

*Konrad brings the parchment to the guard's attention*

"Cheerful."

*Konrad walks in to look around*

an advertisement is pinned to the wall

Selling myself out to men for 2 silver a go.

/-The most highly respected Governor Edward Cromwell

I do assume that the above parchment is not writen by Cromwell. Not because the handwriting does not match, but because I doubt he would sell himself off for anything less than 5 silver. Also, it is Lord Edward Cromwell. There will be no more governor or governor elections under him, so you may as well get it right.

Sir Dantagon Marescot

Oh no we are now doomed to have a man who actually gets things done around Trollsbane forever!

A man with a pointy hat.

What would ther person who write the text, meaning?

~unsigned

The parchment is a fool saying his dislikes the shape Troll's Bane is in. How about a man with a name steps forward and says something that has a worth? Perhaps idea of how to fix all these problems you seem to see but do not out right speak of? I can guarantee that any attempt to rebel against Troll's Bane will only end in the blood of the attackers. What is the point in dying for something you did not try to properly fix?

~Dain~Laiden~

Hmm, what could be the problem here? Is it really that difficult to see? Maybe look a bit inwardly, and you will find it.
~Unsigned

*A new parchment pinned up is in the same hand as the first*

Funny how the citizens of the isle now have to 'rebel' against Trollsbane. Just when was it that Gobiath appointed Bane above all other city-states? Or have your words been spoken too soon, Laiden? You really should make that clear. The rest of us really would appreciate a little clarification on just where and when Czar Cromwell will strike next.

What problems do we see? For a start, the Captain of the Guard's record- Oh... criminal? Who would have guessed? And what town was it that he fought so vehemently against right before being being welcomed as the organizer of its defense? Well... at least you're qualified...


*again the bottom of the parchment has a symbol of a harp and horn*