Kingmaker

Writer's Block

And so…he had a tent.

It wasn’t much, as tents go, really a surplus military item that the caravan merchant had picked up from Taldor. That being said, it was tall enough for Sasha to stand up in and had room for a cot and Sasha’s new enemy – his desk. It was made of sanded, unvarnished wood and had several pieces of paper pinned to it with a decent-size rock. The inkpen and well to the left side seemed to lie in wait, preparing to strike when the paladin was unaware. Sasha sat on the cot, but he could still see the top piece of paper as it periodically attempted to be carried away by the wind.

Foundation Law of the Barony of Ursundova

It needed a better name, and to be written, and to be concise, and to be written, and to be somewhat comprehensive, and to not be something Lem immediately took issue with (though Sasha wondered idly if such things existed in the world)…and to be written. The rest of the laws would come – most law came about when someone did something others found disagreeable; however, if there was no first principle, no guiding thought – that was a recipe for the River Kingdoms and each man a law unto himself, or at least as far as his sword would reach. No first principles meant no peace, no keeping the humans from annihilating the fey or the kobolds or anyone else who happened to be sitting on something the humans wanted. And most of the people here were waiting either for no such principle to manifest or for the Baron to present one.

Baron – had he lost his mind? So far from his old life and so far from the man he was, now he risked that someone somewhere might recognize him. Lem had protested the idea of any one person being in charge, but Lem seemed to vary from contrary for the sake of contrariness and contrary for the sake of some unspoken deeply-held principle. Katya was prepared to follow him anywhere with no heed of the burden that placed on him. Dyimi – who can tell with gnomes? But the hundreds of men and women who were leveling land and begin the process of grading roads were also looking to him. He could not let them down.

He stood and stepped to the desk. He stared down at the paper for a long time before sitting on the small bench. He took up the quill, set aside the rock, and began to write. The pen scratched as the ink flowed onto the paper…

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