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Aimo having just gotten over his illness looked over the missive with interest. He got up from off the bank of the River Petra where he was continuing to watch the river for anyone using nets to fish and began to make early preparations to partake in the events.

MAYORAL EDICT A Halt to Net Fishing Issued and averred by The Mayor AIMO OF ASTOR BY THE ORDER OF MAYOR AIMO OF ASTOR, For years now the Petran trout population of the River Petra has languished due to a lack of care and excess pollution by actors within our great nation’s population, both malicious and unknowing. As the population of the trout continues to decline so too will the ability to catch it as food for our people. Thus measures must be taken to ensure the sustainability and longevity of this valuable source of food. With this in mind my first act to help bring back the Petran trout is the temporary halting of the allowance of net fishing the River Petra. While this may reduce the amount of trout brought in at the moment it will be the first step in larger hauls in the future when the population of the beloved fish swells from the initiatives I plan to enact. The trout will be protected, for our children and our children’s children. PRIORITIZING THE PETRAN ENVIRONMENT AND PEOPLE, Mayor Aimo of Astor Deputy Commissaire Sir Artel 'The Flame Bringer' von Theonus

Looked over the notice, nodding to himself. "Ye." he said to himself ruminating over the events of the day. "Ye."

A SHEATHED SWORD PISACEN ZWY KONGZEM Issued by Ser Conrad Barclay On this 2nd of Vzmey and Hyff of 471 E.S. For 58 years now I have served the kingdom on my path to and through Knighthood, since I was twelve years of age. However, these things must come to an end eventually. Having taken a step back to focus on more administrative duties I have seen myself begin to falter at times. This truth makes this both easier and harder as I now end my time and retire from being an active Crow Knight of Haense and as the Knight Paramount. Demons, ibleesspawn, skinwalkers, and more close and distant to heart I have dealt with much during my time. I began my journey as a knight under King Sigismund the Third, was knighted under King Karl and rose through the ranks under him to the top, where I would try to figure out reforms for his son King Georg. I pray for the success of the table under whomever King Georg wishes to ascend to the status of Knight Paramount. Should the crown wish to ask any service of me in the future, body able, I shall seek to carry it out nonetheless. GOTT MIT UNS Ser Conrad “The Bulwark” Barclay

Conrad did not feel fear nor anything of the sort with the second murder of someone close to him happened so soon after the last time. This senseless murder didn't make him feel like there was any real threat, anyone could commit a murder outside of the walls, a common bandit was in that sense more of a threat. From his daughter's death all Conrad felt was anger, anger on top of the other he'd lost so recently.

Conrad looked over the missive, calmly setting it down and to the side before he began to slam his head against his desk several times in frustration.

Conrad prepares to have to deal with the royal nipple piercing once more.

"Didn't know her well, yet she was usually pretty respectful and didn't interfere in things where it would have just muddied everything." Conrad paused thinking it all over. "Overall, not the worst queen in the slightest. Fact she went so soon after His Majesty shows that they cared for each other."

"When I had to put down my wife the man was one of the first people to hear me out and understand. When Ser Jakob was whipped for trying to carry out testing His Majesty stood by us, trying his best to not scorn the knights when he had the chance. He gave us towers, allowed us to continue to flourish, stood by the order. His Majesty was a warrior and ally to the Order of the Crow. I expected death in battle but I am glad you found peace either way." Conrad lit up a cigarette, going to take his first drink of carrion in years in memory of the late king.

Conrad picked up a missive put on his desk, giving it a quick look over. He promptly folded it neatly and tucked it away, going to store it for another time perhaps.

Conrad read over the missive with a grin, testing would be needed, and perhaps his old friend Adele would finally understand his view of the darkspawn.

Conrad read over the letter, a small hum escaping him as he did so. "Knew something like this was coming, didn't expect to have to thrash the kid so soon."

Conrad had made his way up to the hill too late, the medics had made it too late. He managed to get out something personal to the man, unknowing if he could have still even heard it or if it were too late. He'd have thanked him for everything if he had enough time yet he didn't. He gave some truthful, painful words and had to move on. Later he'd be told that people were sorry for his losses, they weren't just his though, they were everyone's losses, especially Ser Walton. The man had done much for not just the Order of the Crow but also the entire kingdom. He was the model knight in Conrad's eyes, a wall of morality which never truly broke, which served faithfully until unlike his morals his body broke.

First his wife and then his mentors both Ser Emil and Ser Walton. A lot of loss had recently hit Conrad, a lot was weighing down on him, as he was now a father of two by himself with the responsibility of the Paramount. Johanna's death was just another thing he had to put away, for now, to grieve over later and let out during a fight. He kept repeating to himself and anyone who mentioned talking about everything of recent. "I just need to pack it up and push it back for now."

why do we do this to ourselves?

Conrad lingered over the letter, letting out a small hum, not quite knowing what to make of it. She'd managed to last and pass on the torch which she took up despite never wanting it. This thought caused him to stop and rethink some things, if she could do it, why not?

"A Cheese what?" Conrad questioned as he looked over the Cheddar Agreement from the courtyard of the knights keep. He moved over to look over the wall and down the hill towards the neighboring Halflings. A simple huh escaped him.

"Hate Iblees, love me church, simple as." Conrad stated upon seeing the missive.

Conrad sat back in his room in the new knight keep, having a small drink after having just finished the decorations with hanging up a picture of his wife. He looked over the various publications of the day before coming to one that caught his eye in particular. From outside his room a cacophony of noise from the knight falling back out of his chair and coughing on his drink could be heard.

It had been a long time coming, the Oath of Macken. He just had to get through it and he would finally be free of the duty to his house. He’d watched his parents die, had found his sister after she’d killed herself, watched as his uncle Brandt died under his command, and so many many more. Everything weighed down on him heavily as the years went on and on, especially his damn habit of smoking which took his wife, the habit which he hoped that had it continued would take him as well, it didn’t. The only time he didn’t feel the weight of everything which he’d done was tending to the roses, at first for his sister and then for all of the fallen Barclays as the years added up. The day went on as most tourney days did in Reinmar, he made his rare occurrence out of the keep and into public, no more enjoying the events of the day as he did everything else. It was only a bit longer. The Oath approached and when it did come that day, he summoned the strength to bark out his words as he did all those years ago, the focus and energy now being on his family instead of the army. The Oath came and passed, the last bit of his will to go on being finally drained. There was one more thing though—the roses. If he died who would take care of the roses, who would take care of the memory of every family member who died? He signaled Wilheim, the future of the house, and took him to the roof. He explained what he could with the little energy he had left. It only took a minute or two before he ushered the boy off, slumping against the wall of the roof and finally letting himself slip away.

Conrad knew that his page had met her end on the trip which she'd set out on after she didn't return for a lesson like she said she would; it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Drinks flew across the keep as one feeling, and only one feeling overtook the man, something he typically only felt at the mention of someone, anger. After he had finished throwing anything he could, glass littered the floor and he remembered a promise he'd made to his wife before they had married, one which he now knew he would have to break to try and be at peace with what had happened.

An old Reinmaren man read the contents of a paper over in one of the rare moments of clarity he had these days. Upon finishing he spoke to no one in particular as he was almost completely alone by this point. "Hopefully this is something which makes you happy finally old friend, just like that massive trebuchet."

Conrad frowns upon hearing the balloon race being canceled; surely, the feast could have been cut instead.

Conrad feels immense disappointment knowing that Adele likely learned nothing from his prior conversation with her, unaware that he was most certainly right.

Conrad blinked as the girl he had teased when younger suddenly became Baroness of Juliksburg. "Huh." he intoned to himself before going back to his research.