This story will be written over time. I'll submit some every week or so until I have a full story. A knocking at the door. In the small farmhouse a woman gets up out of her chair and answers it. It is a gruff man, with a large box. Back on the cobbled road, a cart is stacked high with simialar crates, the symbol of Andorhal barely visible in the weak sun of late afternoon. With a sigh, he says, "Grain shipment from Andorhal. Just pay up the King's tax, and I'll give you the grain no prob'. Got it?" The woman nodded, and gave the man seventy small silver coins. He gave her a smile and dropped the box on the floor, leaving without even closing the door and riding off once more. She closed the door wearily, and opened up the box. In it were four large sacks of grain. She called a name, and a