Previously...
More importantly, Mara met the man of her dreams. His name was Skullcrusher. He was enormous, mostly naked, killed hobgoblins with his bare hands, and unfortunately returned to Cadorna after helping the party recover his master’s treasure.
Mara was taking it... not so well. Ok, horribly. Like violent-fits-may-happen horribly.
Meanwhile, Aldren reached level 5, spent thirty-one fucking days reading a book to increase his Constitution, and the City Council still had plenty of work waiting for them. Among those unfinished jobs was Sokal Keep on Thorn Island.
So naturally, that’s where our four idiots were headed next.
Aldren looked at his fellow adventurers with a mixture of pride and disgust. Since joining this mismatched band of slightly less merry men, he had witnessed both amazing triumphs and unforgivable horrors. They had fought monsters, saved lives, recovered treasure, murdered an elderly fortune teller, robbed a councilman, died repeatedly, and somehow managed to become somewhat competent adventurers along the way.
He chuckled as the four of them left the arms shop.
Mara looked over. “What’s so funny, asshole?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Aldren replied, no longer particularly bothered by her emotional outbursts.
“Yeah, well, what now, fearless leader? It looks like we did everything we could at Mendor's Library.”
Aldren thought for a moment. “Well, Sokal Keep still needs cleared.”
Merrick frowned. “Thorn Island... sounds pointy.”
Lucian sighed. “It also sounds like something that might be slightly above our current level of expertise.”
Merrick stared at him. Lucian stared back. Merrick continued staring.
Lucian sighed again. “And pointy.”
Aldren smiled. “Well, you never know unless you try! Come on! Where’s the adventurer’s spirit?”
“I left it in my other panties,” Mara replied.
Merrick looked at her. “I thought you free-balled?”
“Don’t push me, thief. I lost the love of my life and now I’m stuck with you three.”
Merrick blinked. “I’m pretty sure Skully didn’t even know you were a woman.” He paused. “Or breathing.”
Mara reached for her flail. Merrick immediately started walking faster.
And so the four of them boarded a boat bound for Thorn Island and the imposing Sokal Keep. When they finally arrived, the sheer size of the fortress amazed them.
Aldren stared upward. “The sheer size of this place amazes me.”
The other three looked at him.
“What?”
Nobody answered.
The party entered the courtyard, where Merrick almost immediately noticed something near the northwestern corner. “Look!”
Partially hidden among the rocks and reeds lay the skeleton of a long-dead elf. Its weapons and equipment had been badly rusted and corroded by years of exposure to the salt air. What remained of its leather clothing was worm-eaten, filthy, and barely recognizable.
Naturally, Merrick wanted to search it. Aldren and Lucian agreed. Merrick had developed an uncanny ability to find something valuable in just about anything, including piles of garbage, hidden floorboards, suspicious walls, and literal shit.
Mara? Mara wanted to smash it. Of course she did. Time to roll a 1d4!
Merrick, Lucian, and Aldren wanted to search the corpse. Mara wanted to introduce it to her flail. So a 1, 2, or 3 meant we searched the skeleton. A 4 meant Mara got her way.
Anyways. I rolled. A fucking 4. Yipp-fucking-yee. Before anyone could react, Mara stepped forward, raised her flail, and brought it crashing down onto the decades-old skeleton.
“The fuck!” Merrick shouted as he jerked his hand away. “That was almost my hand!”
Mara hit it again. And again.
By the time she was finished, whatever remained of the poor bastard had been reduced to several dozen pieces of splintered bone mixed with rust and dirt. Anything that might have been useful was now considerably less so.
Mara smiled at her handiwork. “You snooze, you lose, thief.” Then she walked away.
Merrick stared after her. “She’s beginning to piss me off.”
Lucian shrugged. “She lost the love of her life. Give her time.”
“Get the fuck outta here! They knew each other for like a day!”
And with that, the four of them entered Sokal Keep. It wasn’t long before they encountered the first residents. Bugs. Very, very large bugs.
As the party entered one of the ruined chambers, giant insects suddenly dropped from the walls and ceiling around them.
Lucian immediately threw out his hands. “Stand back!”
He cast Sleep. Nothing happened.
Merrick slowly looked toward him. “Well?”
Lucian frowned. “That should have worked.”
One of the enormous scorpions skittered toward them. Merrick pointed at it. “Maybe explain that to him.”
Lucian gritted his teeth and unleashed Stinking Cloud. A disgusting green mist filled part of the room. One insect became trapped inside. One.
Lucian looked toward Merrick. “There. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic.”
Then things got considerably worse. One of the giant scorpions lunged forward and buried its stinger into Merrick. The thief staggered backward. Then collapsed.
“Fuck!” Aldren shouted, rushing toward him. “He’s not moving!”
“Keep your mind in the battle,” Mara snapped. “We’ll take care of the runt after we kill these fucking bugs!”
Aldren reluctantly turned back toward the fight. A few moments later, the final insect dropped and he immediately ran back to Merrick.
“Merrick?”
Nothing.
He shook him. “Merrick!”
Still nothing. Lucian crouched beside them and examined the wound. Mara joined him. After a few seconds, she sighed.
“Well... fuck.”
Aldren looked at her. “What?”
“He’s dead.”
Aldren’s face went pale.
Lucian examined the scorpion sting. “Poison, most likely.”
“Can you fix him?” Aldren asked.
Mara stared at him. “Nope.”
“But you bring us back from the brink of death all the time!”
“From the brink, Aldren. This idiot went over the fucking edge.”
Aldren looked down at Merrick. For all the thief’s bullshit, the stealing, the greed, the horrible ideas, and the endless searching of every wall in fucking existence... He was their thief.
“We’re taking him back to New Phlan.”
Mara sighed. “I can’t heal him.”
“Then somebody else can.”
Lucian stood. “There are priests in the city capable of raising the dead. The process is expensive, but theoretically—”
“Good,” Aldren said.
Mara stared at Merrick’s body. “You know, he’s considerably quieter like this.”
Aldren glared at her.
“What?”
Lucian grabbed Merrick beneath the arms. “Help me carry him.”
And so the heroic expedition to Sokal Keep lasted approximately fifteen minutes. Back to New Phlan!
At the Temple of Tyr, a priestess greeted the party as Aldren and Lucian dragged Merrick’s corpse through the door.
“Do you seek healing?”
Mara looked down at Merrick. “No. We’re carrying this thief’s dead body around because we found it.”
The priestess stared at her.
Aldren stepped forward. “Can you fix him?” His voice cracked slightly.
The priestess examined Merrick before finally nodding. “Yes.”
Aldren breathed a sigh of relief.
“For 5,500 gold.”
Silence. Lucian looked at Merrick. Then at the priestess. Then back at Merrick.
“I don’t believe Merrick himself would agree to that price.”
“And he’s the one who’s dead,” Mara added.
Aldren ignored them. “Do we even have that kind of money?”
Mara frowned. “Wait. Why didn’t he just come back?”
Aldren looked at her. “What?”
“We always come back.”
Lucian shook his head. “Not exactly. Every previous occurrence involved the entire party dying. This time only Merrick died.”
Mara looked down at him. “So maybe if we all die, he comes back?”
Aldren stared at her. Lucian stared at her.
“Just thinking out loud.”
Aldren shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“It was only a suggestion.”
Lucian frowned. “There is also no guarantee deliberately killing ourselves would produce the same result.”
Mara shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
“No,” Aldren and Lucian said together.
Mara rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
5,500 gold it was. The party began emptying pouches. Gold. Platinum. More gold. Merrick’s money, which he probably would have been extremely upset about had he not currently been dead. When everything was counted...
We had it. Barely. Five thousand five hundred gold pieces later, the priests went to work. Some time later, Merrick stirred.
Aldren immediately leaned over him. “Merrick! You’re okay!”
The thief slowly opened his eyes. “Ugh...” He reached for his head. “What the fuck happened? I feel like somebody used my skull as an anvil.”
Aldren smiled. “You died!”
Merrick stared at him. “What?”
“You died!”
“Yeah, I heard that part. Why the fuck are you saying it like it’s good news?”
“A scorpion poisoned you,” Lucian explained. “Apparently the venom was quite lethal.”
Merrick blinked. “I died died?”
Mara nodded. “Very.”
Merrick sat up slowly. For once, he didn’t have a smartass response. Then he noticed everyone looking at him.
“What?”
Mara smiled. “Oh, and it cost us 5,500 gold to bring you back.”
Merrick froze.
“...”
Nobody said anything.
“...”
Merrick looked at Aldren. Then Lucian. Then Mara.
“You should have left me dead.”
Aldren laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. Merrick winced.
After a brief stay at the local hostel, several Cure Light Wounds spells, and considerably more complaining from Merrick about the financial irresponsibility of bringing him back to life, everybody was finally back to one hundred percent.
Aldren clapped Merrick on the back. “So! Ready to go back to Sokal Keep?”
“Fuck no.”
“Come on! There might be something worth stealing!”
Merrick paused.
Lucian nodded thoughtfully. “Logically, Aldren makes a reasonable point. Increased danger could translate into increased wealth.”
Aldren pointed at him. “There you go! See? The smart one agrees.”
Merrick sighed. “Fine. But don’t let me die again.”
Mara opened the door. “No promises.”
Back to Thorn Island! They returned to the bug-infested room inside Sokal Keep. The now CLEARED bug-infested room. Actually... Did I say cleared? Yeah. About that.
“Fuck! NOT AGAIN!” Merrick yelled as insects once again began falling from the walls and ceiling. He immediately ran behind a nearby wall.
Mara noticed. “Are you hiding?”
“It’s tactical positioning!”
“You’re hiding.”
“I DIED LAST TIME!”
“Coward.”
“Living coward.”
This time, however, everyone was considerably more prepared. Lucian immediately dropped two large Stinking Clouds into the room, catching several of the giant scorpions inside and leaving them choking and disoriented. Aldren and Mara moved in while Merrick remained tactically positioned behind the wall.
Soon, every insect was dead. And this time? All four of our heroes remained alive. Fuck yeah! The party continued exploring the keep until they encountered something slightly less alive than the insects.
Undead. A rather large collection of them. Skeletons and rotting corpses began shambling toward the party.
Merrick looked at Lucian. “Well, you’ll be fucking useless in this fight.”
Lucian frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Skeletons don’t have nostrils. Or brains, come to think of it. How the fuck do they even move?”
Lucian sighed. “Necromantic energies animate them without requiring normal biological functions.”
Merrick stared at him. “So... magic.”
Lucian stared back. “Yes, Merrick.”
“Could’ve just said magic.”
“I guess I have to do everything around here,” Mara muttered. “Just like a group of men to be completely fucking useless.”
She raised her hands, spread her perfectly manicured fingers, and invoked the power of her god. Turn Undead.
Almost immediately, the shambling horde stopped, turned, and ran.
Merrick blinked. “Huh.” He watched the undead disappear down the hallway. “So that’s what that does.”
Aldren raised his sword. “Heck yeah! Let’s show them what we’re about!” He bounded forward after the fleeing horde.
Merrick stared after him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“What?” Mara asked.
“You made them run away!”
“Yes.”
“And now WE have to fucking chase them!”
Mara smiled. “Would you rather they chase you?”
Merrick opened his mouth. Thought about it.
“No.”
“Then shut up and run.”
Moments later, the battle was over. Several of the undead had been destroyed while the rest fled deeper into the keep, their silent screams not echoing dramatically through the stone hallways because skeletons don’t have lungs.
Or vocal cords. The party took the opportunity to rest and rememorize their spells before continuing. Eventually, they entered a small courtyard where a commotion erupted nearby. Weapons clattered. Boots pounded against stone.
Then a very large force of orcs and hobgoblins rushed them.
Merrick’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.”
Lucian immediately threw a Stinking Cloud directly between the party and the approaching horde, hoping the disgusting green fog would create some breathing room. The orcs looked at it. Then walked around it.
Merrick glanced at Lucian. “You know they can see the cloud, right?”
“Yes, Merrick. I am aware.”
“Just checking.”
Mara immediately began casting Hold Person, targeting one of the orc leaders. The spell worked. Unfortunately, an arrow struck her for four damage while she was casting. The enemy continued closing in.
There were a lot of them. A LOT. Like, a shitload. Lucian began preparing Sleep.
Aldren pointed toward the rear of the enemy formation. “Aim for the ones with the bows!”
Lucian unleashed the spell. Several enemies immediately collapsed. Better yet, they had been standing directly inside a narrow choke point. Every goblin and hobgoblin behind them suddenly found themselves trapped behind a pile of their own unconscious friends.
Holy shit. Something went according to plan. Merrick loaded his sling and fired at one of the orc leaders Mara had paralyzed. The stone hit him. He dropped. Dead.
Mara began casting another Hold Person. Two more enemies froze where they stood. Lucian followed with another Sleep spell, dropping several more. Then somebody hit him with a sword. Hard.
Lucian collapsed into a pool of blood. Unconscious.
“Lucy!” Merrick shouted.
Thankfully, Lucian was far too unconscious to correct him.
“Keep fighting!” Aldren screamed.
The courtyard had become absolute chaos. Orcs. Hobgoblins. Sleeping bodies. Paralyzed bodies. Lucian bleeding on the floor. Merrick throwing rocks. Mara swearing at everyone. You know - A truly epic battle!
Aldren reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a bottle. The Potion of Giant Strength.
He uncorked it. “Bottoms up!”
Merrick glanced over. “What the hell are you—”
Aldren drank it.
Almost immediately, something changed. His muscles tightened beneath his armor. His entire body surged with unnatural strength. Even the Gauntlets of Ogre Power he had been so proud of suddenly felt somewhat redundant.
His Strength climbed to twenty-one. Twenty-fucking-one.
Aldren looked down at his hands. “Oh.”
Then he smiled.
“Oh heck yeah!”
For the next several rounds, Aldren became a one-man fucking wrecking crew. He tore into the enemy line with his broadsword, every swing landing with enough force to send orcs stumbling backward.
Merrick finally dropped the enemy who had been keeping him tied up in close combat. He stepped back, loaded another stone, and started picking off the enemies Mara and Lucian had rendered helpless. Mara managed to paralyze three more.
Half the orc and hobgoblin force was dead, asleep, held, or otherwise having a very shitty afternoon. But the battle wasn’t over yet. Merrick fired. Another enemy leader dropped. He loaded again. Fired. Another.
The remaining monsters looked around at the bodies scattered across the courtyard. At Aldren, who had apparently transformed into a human battering ram. At Mara preparing yet another spell. At Merrick reloading his sling.
Apparently, that was enough. They began breaking and surrendering. Those who continued fighting were quickly finished off.
Holy shit. We won.
Each party member earned 375 experience points along with a mild assortment of copper, silver, electrum, and gold. The battlefield also contained a considerable pile of weapons, armor, and random objects with absolutely no way to tell what any of it was worth without dragging it all back to town.
Aldren wiped the blood from his sword. “You know, Lucian really needs to learn some sort of spell that can identify things.”
Merrick looked down at Lucian, still unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Aldren followed his gaze.
“Oh.”
Lucian heard none of this. While searching the bodies, the party discovered a note on one of the hobgoblins.
Journal Entry #57:
“Our spies in the city inform us that a party of invaders will travel to Sokal Keep to free it. To combat these invaders, assemble a force of no less than three squads. Travel by boat from the small docks at the west of town to Thorn Island. Move undetected to Sokal Keep. Find the adventurers in or around Sokal Keep. Kill them before they can return to the city council with information about the true situation at the keep. Return with the invaders heads as proof of completion of your mission. Upon completion you will be rewarded with food, treasure, and many slaves.”
Signed,
The Boss
Everyone was silent. Well, almost everyone. Lucian was still unconscious. So, actually, he was already silent.
Merrick reread the note. “Invaders?”
Aldren frowned. “They mean us.”
“I got that part. I’m just offended by the terminology.”
Mara took the paper from him. “The Boss.”
Aldren nodded. The name was familiar. They had already found orders from somebody calling themselves The Boss beneath Kuto’s Well. Norris the Gray had been receiving instructions from the same asshole.
Lucian had also spent a considerable amount of time theorizing about the strange coordination among Phlan’s enemies. This was starting to look considerably less coincidental.
Mara folded the note. “So somebody inside New Phlan knew we were coming here.”
Merrick frowned. “‘Our spies in the city.’”
Aldren looked back toward the bodies scattered around the courtyard. “So whoever The Boss is, he knew exactly where we were going.”
Merrick nodded. “And sent an army here to cut our heads off.”
Mara shrugged. “At least we’re making an impression.”
Merrick looked around at the bodies. “I’m starting to think we should be charging more.”
Mara looked down at Lucian. “We need to find somewhere to make a proper camp and regroup first.”
Merrick pointed toward a large temple-like building just south of them. “How about in there?”
Mara shrugged. “Good enough place as any.”
Inside, they discovered what had once been the keep’s chapel. Two dried orc corpses lay on the floor, their shriveled faces frozen in expressions of absolute terror. A large altar dominated the southern wall.
Mara looked around. “I mean... it could be worse.”
Aldren pointed toward the dead orcs. “How?! How could this be worse?”
Mara shrugged. “They could be moving.”
Aldren looked at the corpses. Then at Mara.
“Please don’t say things like that.”
With nowhere particularly appealing to camp, Mara first patched Lucian up enough to drag him back from the edge of death. Again. He opened his eyes.
Merrick smiled. “Hey, Lucy.”
Lucian groaned. “Fuck you.”
Good. He was fine. The party continued exploring the deeply unpleasant-looking chapel. As they approached the altar, a pale figure slowly materialized before them. Everyone stopped. The apparition hovered silently.
Aldren, naturally, stepped forward. “We come in peace.”
Merrick stared at him. “The fuck?”
The pale figure wavered. Then slowly faded away. Nobody moved.
Aldren smiled. “Well! That went rather well.”
Merrick pointed toward the empty space. “You scared a ghost away by being aggressively friendly.”
Aldren smiled. “Kindness costs nothing.”
Mara looked toward the altar. “Welp. Good a place as any.”
And so the four of them made camp inside the haunted chapel containing two dried orc corpses and a mysterious disappearing spirit. I mean, hell, I’ve slept in worse places. Probably.
After some much-needed rest, healing, and spell memorization, everyone was once again back to full strength. They packed their equipment and continued exploring.
Not far away, they discovered what appeared to be an old bunkhouse. Everything inside had been smashed, broken, overturned, or otherwise rendered completely useless.
Aldren immediately noticed the familiar look forming on Merrick’s face. “Looks like anything worth taking was already taken.”
Merrick smiled. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
He walked toward the rear of the building. As he approached the southern wall, a thin mist began rising from the floor. It thickened. Dark shapes formed within it. Numerous shadowy figures appeared before the party as a low moan filled the room.
Mara raised her flail. “Ahh, fuck! What did you do now!”
“I didn’t do anything!”
Aldren suddenly raised a hand. “Wait!”
Before anyone could stop him, he walked directly toward the shadowy figures.
Merrick’s eyes widened. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Aldren stopped in front of them.
“Hello.”
The figures vanished. Just like that. Gone. Everyone stared at Aldren.
Aldren looked back. “What?”
Lucian slowly shook his head. “You seem to possess an extremely strange way with the undead.”
Merrick nodded. “Maybe they’re embarrassed for him.”
Aldren smiled. “Kindness costs—”
“Yeah, yeah, nothing. We know,” Merrick said, resuming his search.
And, because the universe continues rewarding this asshole for his terrible habits... He found something. Beneath one of the floorboards was a small collection of gems and several old pages from a diary.
The pages read:
“The hordes came again last night. Their coordination was frightening. Under the cover of darkness, goblins and kobolds pushed bundles of sticks to within bow range. These bundles formed a wall that protected the small ones from our archers. Once the wall was erected orc archers took up safe positions there and begin pelting the castle walls with arrows.
“We tried shooting flaming arrows at the wall of sticks to set it afire. Monsters are normally afraid of fire. But these monsters showed no fear. They simply scooped dirt on the flames to put them out. Before all the fires were out they had resumed firing at us. Surely, some unnatural force must have been at work to weld these quarrelsome beasts into an organized fighting force.
“I do not know if we can combat the monsters onslaught much longer. We lost 12 more men last night. The monsters seem to have an unlimited number of reinforcements. The Last Priest of Tyr, Ferrann Martinez, says he has a way to protect the keep, but he says that it is so terrible that it may only be used as a last resort. Unless we receive reinforcements shortly, Ferran Martinez is our only hope.”
Lucian read the pages again. “This is significant.”
Merrick counted the gems. “These are significant.”
“The account describes exactly the same thing we have been seeing throughout Phlan. Goblins, kobolds, orcs, hobgoblins... creatures which would normally be divided into separate tribes are coordinating their efforts.”
Aldren pulled out the note from The Boss. “Like whoever sent that army after us.”
“Precisely.”
Mara tapped the diary. “I’m more interested in the terrible last resort.”
Merrick stared at her. “Of course you are.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Aldren looked back toward the chapel. “Do you think that spirit could have been Ferrann Martinez?”
Lucian considered it. “It’s possible. But we have absolutely no evidence to support that conclusion.”
Merrick nodded. “So yes.”
“That is literally the opposite of what I just said.”
The party eventually found its way into the old armory, but everything inside had rusted, broken, or decayed beyond usefulness. Merrick searched anyway.
“Damn. Nothing.”
Attached to the armory were the collapsed remains of an old blacksmith’s shop. The floor was damp and spongy beneath their boots.
Merrick began searching. A few moments later, he discovered an old hammer among the wreckage. The party gained 100 experience points.
Aldren’s eyes widened. “Here, let me see that!” He grabbed the hammer.
“Hey!”
Mara suddenly raised her flail. “No time for that, you idiots. Look!”
Frogs. Large. Mutant. Poisonous frogs.
Lucian’s eyes widened. “Do not allow them to bite you. The poison carried by these creatures may be fatal.”
Merrick immediately backed away. “Fatal fatal?”
Lucian looked at him. “Yes, Merrick.”
Merrick pointed toward himself. “We already spent 5,500 gold today. Nobody gets poisoned.”
A frog hopped forward. Lucian acted first. Sleep. Every single frog collapsed.
Aldren blinked. “That’s it?”
Lucian lowered his hands. “That appears to be it.”
Merrick stared at the frogs, then at Lucian. “See? THAT’S how that spell is supposed to fucking work.”
Lucian ignored him. Eventually, the four adventurers unfolded their maps and compared what they had discovered. Something wasn’t right.
Merrick traced his finger across several sections. “There should be rooms here.”
Lucian leaned closer and pointed toward several suspicious areas. “Perhaps we can utilize your particular set of skills around these locations.”
Merrick smiled. “My particular set of skills.”
“Yes.”
“I like that.”
And so began the searching. Walls. Floors. Corners. More walls. Different walls. The same walls again because I wasn’t entirely sure whether I had already searched them. Many, many, many hours later...
Merrick leaned against the stone wall. “Well, fuck.”
Nothing. No secret doors. No hidden passages. No mysterious treasure room. Just several suspiciously blank spaces on my graph paper mocking me.
Merrick looked toward Aldren. “What now?”
Aldren sighed. “Let’s head back to town, I guess. I’m out of ideas.”
Mara chuckled. “That’s not surprising.”
Aldren frowned.
And so, with Sokal Keep still containing several suspicious mysteries, the last priest of Tyr’s mysterious and apparently terrible last resort, at least two separate varieties of ghosts, and apparently an unlimited fucking supply of poisonous insects, the party headed back toward New Phlan.
Honestly? Considering Merrick had already died once today, that seemed like a pretty reasonable place to stop.
The Party So Far
Nobody gained a level this time around, but that certainly doesn’t mean we accomplished nothing. We went to Sokal Keep. Merrick died. We spent 5,500 gold bringing him back.
Then we went to Sokal Keep again. Financially, this episode has been a fucking disaster.
Aldren Kestyr — Level 5 Fighter
Mara Threl — Level 5 Cleric
Lucian Eldwych — Level 4 Magic-User
Don’t call him Lucy.
Merrick Sorne — Level 5 Thief
Currently worth at least 5,500 gold according to the Temple of Tyr, although Merrick himself strongly disputes this valuation. Still searching every suspicious wall. Unfortunately, the suspicious walls won this round.
Next Time On...
There’s also the increasingly concerning matter of The Boss, who apparently has spies inside New Phlan and knew exactly when our four adventurers were traveling to Thorn Island.
Meanwhile, the Council still wants something done about the nomads, a large tribe of kobolds is considering joining Phlan’s enemies, and there are plenty of blank fucking squares left on my map.
Oh, and we’re considerably poorer now.
Thanks, Merrick.