Away from my region of Lugrethen I tried to make a nice RP out of one of the reports. The region still needed attention.
Foul weather and Foul news
Under pelting summer rains Gomrin and his men arrived at Yipinalke. The region a blanket of slugging green hills dotted with white sheep like lost little clouds on a heaven of green. That is if you would imagine the grey rain-clouds away and the sun bright.
Plodding through the pools that collected on the muddy road the company reached a roadside inn. Gomrin disliked the villages here. Soft farmer people, soft Grehks of the earth. His rain washed face turning about to his men who were shivering despite it being summer. Water and wind will do that to you. ''Get your wet asses in here and huddle around the fireplaces, Git!'' His words accompanied by a gruff motion of his arm towards the Inn door.
It creaked in protest as the swollen wood of the door scrapped against the doorpost and frame. With the opening door a cat darted in through the door from under a bench that leaned against the outside of the inn. The cat was in shambles as rain had also demolished its coat of fur and reduced the being to a shell of its former self.
Arching an eye at the creature Gomrin stepped into the Inn himself. The cat shock its fur dry and a fresh rain of droplets assaulted Gomrin. He couldn't bring himself to kicking the cat out of the way though, it was kinda a battle companion now, it weathered the same storm as he had.
Gomrin's men trickled in one by one after him. They rubbed their hands and wiped their brows clean of droplets that hung like liquid icicles from their eyebrows, red noses everywhere. It didn't take long before they shuffled towards the hearths, drawn in by the promise of food as the scent of roasted boar seduced them.
With bold steps Gomrin walked towards the Innkeeper though, before he reached the portly man though he heard his name called out by an unfamiliar force. ''Baron Gomrin! A message for you.'' A man clad in sturdy traveling cloths offered him a bundle of letters. The first one was a report. Its details clear and unpleasant. The gist of the letter was:
Luhgrethen
Low morale leads to unrest and strikes, which hurts productivity.
Cold left as blood rushed through his veins. Words mumbles under his breath but none of them pleasant. ''Blasted Dirt-diggers!'' Gomrin shouted as he with a single hand hurled a bar stool through the Inn. The rest of the day was spend resting and warming up though. When the company left the Inn it was in a worse state then they found it. Gomrin had been in a bad mood all that day and it showed itself in broken stools, tables and noses.
