He will recover. "This head's hard as old Serault oak," he sighs, rapping it. "A shame, really. I could do with a few days in bed." If lawless folk are bold enough to attack your own bailiff, who's next? A noble? Yourself? The Divine?
Bandits have attacked your Weary Bailiff and stolen your taxes. The woods hide many secrets. Today, they hide the guilty. The culprits have gone to ground.