This time ... it's virtual
Swarm of The Honeyman
Last night I dreamt that there was a beehive, inside my heart. The bees were making white combs and sweet honey from all my failures.
Travellers arriving in Gimlet Keep have reported attacks on farmsteads in the northern reaches. There’s no suggestion of an army invading from the Desolation or the Blue Mountains, but the Lord Percival has not reigned for thirty years by letting even small challenges to his power go unanswered.
While it is true Lord Percival’s iron fist has created one of the safest corners of Caladron, the iron fist is a tight one and mobilising expensively outfitted troops, then sending them into the unknown, is fiscally irresponsible, at best. Instead, the Lord nails scouting contracts, half in advance, to the noticeboard in the bailey. And that’s why you, and several other lowest bidders, find yourself on the road north to Burkets Way hired to investigate what has befallen the settlements at the edge of civilisation.