On my many visits to Ardoris, I have been taken by the displays of affection within the city of love. However, after a recent visit to make some armor repairs, I was struck by some residents that did not share the peace and love of their brethren, at least not when it comes to Outlanders.

As I lounged at a very stylish pagoda enjoying a mutton sandwich, I noticed a fine bungalow across the river with a tempting bamboo garden. After tidying up my mess and washing my hands in the refreshing river, I used the available ferry to make my way across.

It was indeed lovely with a small pagoda home, a lovely and tranquil bamboo garden, a tidy yard and some casks of ale ready to be rolled inside as needed. But not everything was harmony in this home as I noted the sign hanging over the entryway. It was emblazoned with a skull and the word, "Go Away" printed on it. Then there was another sign that stated there was no trespassing for Outlanders.

I felt the fellow had the wrong impression and knocked gently on the door to explain that not all Outlanders are causing problems, it’s just the riffraff in Owl’s Head that give the rest of us a bad name.

Getting no reply, I quietly slid open the door to announce my presence. As I looked around the tasteful decorations looking for an occupant, I spied a rather disconcerting note. It was titled, "Anti-Outlander Propaganda" and detailed how the citizenry needed to prepare themselves against the Outlander menace. It detailed taking up arms and driving us out of town. This was quite serious.

I decided to take my leave before I was discovered and merely confirmed their dark suspicions. But as I prepared to return in the boat, an angry resident appeared and began to blurt out all manner of terrible expletives at me. I tried to demonstrate my virtuous nature by complementing both his home and garden. My attempts to disarm him with protests of innocence went unheeded. He would hear none of it and to my shock and dismay began brandishing a dagger at me.

Spilling blood in the city of love struck me as woefully wrong, but a terrible tussle ensued. Although this fellow might be valiant with the quill, his skill with the dagger was nearly non-existent. I had no choice but to take his dagger away before someone got hurt. When he protested and loudly demanded it’s return before things turned ugly, I complied. I returned the dagger by placing it in the side of his gullet.

He had given me no choice in the outcome, and now there was no choice but to discreetly place him in the bamboo grove and quietly move along. This just proves how dangerous propaganda can be.


What a lovely and tranquil little setting.
Oh dear, someone has some strong opinions about Outlanders.


Come now, there is no need for this sort of talk, or rather signage


Now see here. That is a terrible thing to say and believe in the city of love. How about we chat about things and you’ll see not all Outlanders are bad


I say, nice little abode they have here. That’s good thinking having the wine cask right next to the bed.
Say now, what is this note all about?


Come now chaps, let’s be reasonable. It goes against all the principles of the city to spout such violence and hostility. And that rusty dagger you’re brandishing about will not only cause me great pain, but will most likely give me a terrible case of the blood poisoning. Put that down before someone gets hurt.


Oh, your horrible scoundrel! You’ve stabbed me right in the back! This is a brand new Aeronaut suit! There will be retribution for this!

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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