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Llewen Merrick awoke in a cold sweat. He'd only slept for a few hours, or so he thought; he'd spent most of the night counting the pittance of money he'd gathered from the peasants a few days prior. The Gereau family couldn't pay rent, or they would starve, and the other two families had had a mediocre harvest. As such there were only two avenues: not paying his dues to Mardania, or he would have to ask for an exemption.
But who should he ask? He was his own tax collector, and had never paid tribute directly, having handed that task off to his subjects when they would go to market. His parents never taught him the local hierarchy, if he belonged to some other noble or if he reported directly to the King. The last he knew, Mardania was ruled by a King, but he had never actually been to Mardus personally. He knew the old road that would take him there, and he'd heard from his subjects what it must be like.
Even so, knowing the ramifications of disobedience to his liege, he was sheepish about going. Surely the crown wouldn't notice this paltry sum of copper and silver was missing? He thought better of that, though. He knew that his three peasant family subjects were counting on him for protection; the peasants could pay the taxes when they traded their goods. But this season was unkind to them, and so the burden now lay with Llewen himself. And so, he ate a quick breakfast, donned his weapons and armor, gathered some provisions and what little money he had, and made his way to the empty Castle Merrick courtyard to find his horse, Rosemary, and prepare to ride for Mardus.
On the way, Llewen bid farewell to the head of each of his subjects' families. One family was kind to his plight, and gave him some additional supplies; some extra dried meat for the road, and a simple quilt for protection against the elements, to be returned when he made it back again.
And so he began his journey. It was largely uneventful; the road was harsh and littered with broken tree branches and other debris. He saw much of the overgrown land he was technically the lord of, but he simply didn't have the resources to patrol or cultivate into real farmland despite being in a potentially fertile valley. His parents had told him of plans to use their estate to expand and reclaim the land, but they were travelling with their gold when they were ambushed and killed by Orcs. The fear of a similar ambush pervaded his mind as he travelled alone through those heavy woods of pine and cedar.
Eventually, the old road joined a larger one, and before he knew it he was following signs to get into the city. A brief snowfall preceded his entry into Mardus, where he was greeted with the unfamiliar sights of city-dwellers and commerce. He had to ask for directions to get to the palace, but finally he and his tired horse were able to find their way, and Llewen approached the gates, where he hailed the guards:
"Hail, and well met! My name is Llewen Merrick, Lord of Castle Merrick. I seek an audience with the King."
He was thankful his hands were holding stirrups, because otherwise he might be visibly shaking. What was he doing here? He was no noble, only the son of one, and this was a place for noble men, not frightened boys.
But who should he ask? He was his own tax collector, and had never paid tribute directly, having handed that task off to his subjects when they would go to market. His parents never taught him the local hierarchy, if he belonged to some other noble or if he reported directly to the King. The last he knew, Mardania was ruled by a King, but he had never actually been to Mardus personally. He knew the old road that would take him there, and he'd heard from his subjects what it must be like.
Even so, knowing the ramifications of disobedience to his liege, he was sheepish about going. Surely the crown wouldn't notice this paltry sum of copper and silver was missing? He thought better of that, though. He knew that his three peasant family subjects were counting on him for protection; the peasants could pay the taxes when they traded their goods. But this season was unkind to them, and so the burden now lay with Llewen himself. And so, he ate a quick breakfast, donned his weapons and armor, gathered some provisions and what little money he had, and made his way to the empty Castle Merrick courtyard to find his horse, Rosemary, and prepare to ride for Mardus.
On the way, Llewen bid farewell to the head of each of his subjects' families. One family was kind to his plight, and gave him some additional supplies; some extra dried meat for the road, and a simple quilt for protection against the elements, to be returned when he made it back again.
And so he began his journey. It was largely uneventful; the road was harsh and littered with broken tree branches and other debris. He saw much of the overgrown land he was technically the lord of, but he simply didn't have the resources to patrol or cultivate into real farmland despite being in a potentially fertile valley. His parents had told him of plans to use their estate to expand and reclaim the land, but they were travelling with their gold when they were ambushed and killed by Orcs. The fear of a similar ambush pervaded his mind as he travelled alone through those heavy woods of pine and cedar.
Eventually, the old road joined a larger one, and before he knew it he was following signs to get into the city. A brief snowfall preceded his entry into Mardus, where he was greeted with the unfamiliar sights of city-dwellers and commerce. He had to ask for directions to get to the palace, but finally he and his tired horse were able to find their way, and Llewen approached the gates, where he hailed the guards:
"Hail, and well met! My name is Llewen Merrick, Lord of Castle Merrick. I seek an audience with the King."
He was thankful his hands were holding stirrups, because otherwise he might be visibly shaking. What was he doing here? He was no noble, only the son of one, and this was a place for noble men, not frightened boys.
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