We need to meet, says the note on your pillow. The Dashing Outlaw has sympathisers even among your household, it seems. You wait until dark and meet her in the plaza, where she lounges against a wall, a wide hat low over her face.
"We found something in the woods. A cave. And inside..." She shudders. "We think it's blood magic. And that means it stops being my problem and starts being yours."
+2 Twilight, +2 Peril
"The bandit-clans are gathering. They've called a council." The clans are an old problem, too dug into Serault's most isolated vales to uproot. But most of the time they're too distracted by their own feuds to be more than an annoyance.
"I saw a black sail on the river two nights ago. Pirates." "Newly arrived, I'd say, and eager for plunder."