“And so many of them! Aren't we lucky? I'm sure absolutely none of them are spies. Or revolutionaries. Or maleficars. Anyway, it's certainly grown much more interesting around here. Many of the charming creatures haven't even heard my best stories yet. It's like having my very own buffet.” ―The Wayward Bard
Your court seems filled with them. Listless sons and daughters of local nobility. Rambling scholars, puffed with wind. Visitors from other provinces who drink your wines, eat your bread and give back nothing but unwanted opinion.
Available actions[]
1.
Dismiss them The ones who have proven themselves useful can stay. They rest can find someone else to leech off, and damn the laws of hospitality!
Difficulty: Cunning*6/5
Success: Satisfaction One by one you call the unwanted before you, and make clear that it's time for them to move on. Your guards ensure they leave quickly and without fuss. Their faces - oh, their faces. The memory will warm you when the snows fall. For a time, the Cháteau is peaceful again, and her coffers begin to fill.
+10 Prosperity
Failure: 'Enough!' The final straw is a dinner, at which the raucous babble is inane you might as well be buying fish in the marketplace. In a rage you banish the hangers-on from your court. It eases the pressure on Serault's coffers, but the exiled wastrels carry word of your outburst across Orlais,
+6 Prosperity, -6 Dignity
2.
Tolerate them Moths will flutter about a candle flame. It is their nature.
Difficulty: Rulership*2
Success: A necessary irritation Yes, they're annoying. Occasionally, it would please you to stab one of them. But their presence reflects Serault's prestige, and they are infrequently useful. With little to do but gossip and intrigue, they can be a fount of information.
+4 Dignity, +3 Clues
Failure: An unavoidable expense They clog the corners of your hall. They chatter and squabble and whisper. They drain Serault's pockets, and your patience. At least their gossip is occasionally useful.
+3 Clues, -6 Prosperity
