As I ate my roast pig and corn at the Inn in Nujelm I sensed an air of tension amongst the other patrons. I looked around the room to see the cause of the tension; at the largest table in the room sat 15 of the King's Guard intently studying the parchment laid on the table by their leader. The leader, a very large and imposing firgure, said, "The King's gold is no longer safe in the Bank of Britain since the return from the dungeon of V'ordin Blackheart, the most notorious brigand of the land". "We must move swiftly by caravan to the bank in Trinsic". "The caravan will be guarded by the King's Guard and there are none so foolish as to test its skill against ours", he proclaimed, and "the caravan shall move promptly night after tomorrow, so see to it that you are stocked and prepared for the journey." With a flick of his wrist, the dining hall became alive with the scurrying of waitresses and their helpers who set out a feast of roast pig and mugs of ale before the warriors. I did not deem it wise to question the guard of their mission, for it is an important one to say the least.