Welcome, Herald Trainee!



      In addition to studies of riding, weaponry, and healing, you are also going to be instructed in the lore of the Queen's law and investigation. This document is solely about investigation. Before you act as a judge, you will act as investigator. That may not be as easy or simple as the bards' tales of us make it sound.

      The nature of your occupation is to see and deal with the worst people in the world. What will keep you from falling into despair at all this darkness? First of all, you have been granted a loving Companion to comfort you. But he or she will not be enough.

      One of the most important things you will always need to bear in mind is that 'villains' are the exception, and not the rule. You were Chosen for your love of justice and a merciful heart. To avoid your spirit being stained by dread and hatred, to help you keep your equilibrium, you'll need to remember this: On the whole, no matter where you go, most people are fair and loving, and that kindness breeds kindness.


LESSON 1: "Means, Motive, Opportunity"
THE CASE OF THE FALLEN LADY

      A lord is out hawking with his friends; when he returns, he discovers that his wife is dead, found at the bottom of the stairs of her tower. A stone vase is laying near the top of the stairs. He orders the doors of the keep bolted shut. You arrive there a mere hour after his discovery, and, because of who you are, they let you in, but immediately close the drawbridge again after you.

--

      Means, motive, and opportunity are the three things that help lead you to the culprit. They usually do it by helping rule out who is innocent. It's important, therefore, to make sure your list of who was involved at all is complete.

      Means: The highest priority is usually to determine *how* a crime was commited, because as time goes on, evidence degrades. We learn about healing to keep ourselves and others healthy. You must also learn the grimmer details of how the body works to better understand how someone really died.

--

      Investigating the poor lady's body, you discover that she has a wound on the back of her head, as if she was hit by something blunt. Maybe she was attacked? Or maybe she suffered that wound in the course of falling down the stairs?

--

Motive: The second priority is given to motives. It's wise to check who had a dispute with the victim, who might have reason to want her out of the way. Could it have been an accident? Could this be part of a larger matter- perhaps she was witness to something else?

      Even though your Companion brought you here as the result of a premonition, that doesn't automatically mean that she was murdered. There could be some other reason you and your horse are here.

      One of the greatest tools in a Herald's kit is the Truth Spell. It's not a mind power, it's "true" magic. Each use of it takes a tiny toll of you and your Companion, both in immediate exhaustion and, it's believed, your full natural lifespan. As nothing is for free, you should use the Truth Spell very sparingly. Think of your questions beforehand, regarding means, motive, and opportunity, and use the spell after you have a good grasp of the whole situation.

      The Truth Spell is indeed powerful but further limited by other factors. One is your stamina; when you are young, you can't cast it often. As you mature, the number of times in a day that you can call upon it may increase. Another is how long the spell lasts after you cast it. This, too, increases, growing longer as you become more experienced.

      Distraction may cause you to lose your concentration, and thus your hold on the spell. Knowing this, more sophisticated criminals might try some kind of disturbance to disrupt it. If they are desperate enough, they may outright attack you!

--

      You question the lord's retainers, even the children and the seemingly unimportant people. Only after you promise on your honor to keep the source of your information secret, several of the servants tell you they thought the lady was having an affair with the cook.

      Questioning the lord himself, you learn that he and his wife were not a happy couple. In fact, she had been heard to mutter that she was going to kill him in his sleep. If she had, she stood to inherit the whole estate for herself and her three-year old son.

      For his part, the cook admits to the liason-- and says that the lord was having an affair himself-- that he had a mistress in the village *and* a five-year-old illegitimate son by her. With his wife gone, the lord could marry his mistress --or at least recognize the boy as his legitimate heir.

      A truth spell determines that the cook didn't kill the lady, and that the lord didn't send someone to do it, either. Oh great. That leaves... everybody else in the castle. And if you have to cast the truth spell on everybody here, it's going to take weeks.

      The absence of a motive isn't proof of innocence, of course. Somebody might be crazy, and the crime could be arbitrary. Or maybe the motive is obscure, like being paid to perform the act. Maybe it *was* an accident after all?

      The lord's mistress is worth questioning, so you visit her in the village. Then, under Truth Spell, the mistress actually *admits* that she killed the lady. When you ask her how, she says she used a stone vase. This is grounds for bringing her back to the keep, which you do, secretly, to spare the lord from revelation of his affair.

--

      Opportunity: Having found the people with means and motive, it's usual to discover next who had the opportunity to commit an evil deed. This may be complicated by motives you did not know about, and people having reasons to lie. They may try to cover up for friends and loved ones. Or, they may try to use the situation to cause harm to their enemies.

--

      Having been cleared of suspicion himself, the lord is now assisting the investigation by ruling out anyone who was not near the lady at the time of the incident. The only one in the tower at the time turns out to be an older servant-woman who helped to care for the lord's legitimate son. The lord is convinced that this nurse is therefore guilty.

      However, she turns out to have been on good terms with her Ladyship. She could have used the vase and she was in the right place, but the nurse has no motive.

      When you accuse his mistress of the crime, he is outraged-- and refuses to allow you to leave the keep with her! After all, his mistress was clearly not in the castle at the time of the murder. She has a motive-- but apparently lacks the means or the opportunity.

      Perhaps the lord's mistress is mad-- and only *thinks* that she killed the lady? That would account for the truth spell's verdict. Then again, the truth spell is limited by what you actually ask, and, while it tells you when someone is lying, it doesn't force someone else to give all the relevant information. Simpler questions, the kind that can be answered yes and no, for instance, are often the most helpful to you.

      While lying awake pondering the case late at night, you see a glint of something- a tiny flicker of a sliver of light. Your door is still closed. Then you realize what it is you've seen-- a slender-bladed knife, its edge sharp enough to shave with! You grab for the handle-- and your fingers close on wood as you find nobody else is in the room with you!

--

      In this world, the conventional definitions of opportunity are different than they would be if unusual special powers did not exist...

--

      Early in the morning, you awaken the lord and bring him with you to question his mistress. Now she is asked if she possesses any magical abilities or items of unusual power. Under these new questions, she tries to lie, to claim that she doesn't. You also accuse her of trying to kill you! She denies this too.

      You inform the lord that she is lying. But what if he doesn't believe you...?

      Then the lord reveals to you at this point that his mistress is half-Tayledras. She breaks down and admits that she is a mage, and also Gifted, and that she used her powers to kill the lady.

      Finally, the lord believes you, and the mistress is given to you to bring back to the palace for execution or sentencing. He apologizes and asks you not to reveal his indiscretion. After he agrees to adopt his illegitimate son, you agree, and the mistress is brought back to the palace for execution or other sentencing away from the keep.

      ...And so, now you've closed the Case of the Fallen Lady.

LESSON 2: "Circumstantial Evidence"
THE CASE OF THE SERPENT'S REVENGE


      AT the edge of a dry rocky area, a wealthy furre is found in his bedroll with a snakebite on his left paw. Nearby is the head of a dead snake. A bloody hatchet is lying near the furre's right paw. His wallet, normally jingling with coins, is empty. A meter away, you find the rest of the snake, and a spray of blood on the dirt, from the region of the snake's neck.

      After questioning the other members of his village, you and your Companion find no ongoing hatreds. At worst, he had had a heated argument with his brother last week.

      A truth spell helps you discern that this brother bore him no lasting ill will and did not act to bring harm to the victim. The case is very puzzling because no one seems to have any motive to kill the victim.

      Then there's an uproar as the villagers bring in a ragged lad who lives in the area. The young man is known to handle snakes for coins thrown into his basket, in the marketplace. He is held prisoner in a small room in the hetman's (local chief's) house. They search him and discover he has fifteen silver pieces carefully hidden in his thick felt cap.

      The villager who found him says he was not far from the snakebite victim. The truth spell confirms this is true.

      When you try to question him, you meet with an unusual obstacle: the boy is mute! He won't even shake his head to confirm or deny your questions.

      You are a Herald who does not happen to have Mindspeech. You consider going back to fetch one. But if you leave, the angry villagers may kill the boy. The nearest Herald with that Gift is two days' travel away.

      --

      Someone has died of snakebite, and this lad is known to be able to safely handle poisonous snakes. There's the 'means'. He's very poor, so there is the 'motive'. And, he lives outside in that very area. So there's 'opportunity'. Means, motive, opportunity.

      But, even though all three are clearly present, that isn't strong enough evidence for the snake-handler's guilt. Why not? What's missing? The disqualification of all the alternate possibilities is missing.

      Sometimes there's a circumstance for which there is more than one possible explanation. This is known as "circumstantial evidence". Since more than one explanation is possible, it's not usually enough for a conclusion.

      It's possible that the young man brought the snake to the victim, but it's also possible that it was a coincidence. It's possible that the poor youth got his coins from the dead furre, but he could also have gotten them by begging, too. "Evidence" that leads to multiple possible explanations is not proof of any one of those explanations alone.

--

      The victim's brother angrily calls for the young man's head. Out of respect for you, however, the villagers do not harm him. You send a messenger to another town to send word to the Heralds that someone with Mindspeech is needed.

      In time, another Herald arrives, and the youth is interviewed. The terrified boy says he didn't kill the wealthy furre. When asked what he was doing in the area, he says that he was just wandering but admits that when he found the body, he took the coins. When he is asked why he wouldn't reply to your questions, he says that he's deaf. The truth spell now confirms that the young man is being truthful.

      The snake-handling lad explains that the snakebite victim must have cut the snake's head off with the axe. Then, he reached down and picked the snake's head up. Even after it has been dead for hours, there is still a bite reflex. The dead snake bit his killer on the hand!

      If you had not arrived in time, the villagers and the victim's brother would have killed the lad. Your intervention has saved his life. You require the young man to give the coins that he took to the dead furre's brother.

      The snakehandling boy is so grateful that he asks to be allowed to travel with the other Herald as a volunteer servant. Your friend explains that isn't possible, but agrees to take him back to the capitol.

      The villagers feel bad about nearly killing an innocent person. Before you leave, they give a feast in your honor.

      And so, now you've closed the Case of the Serpent's Revenge.

LESSON 3: "Co-confirming Circumstantial Evidence"
THE CASE OF THE TRIO OF TAILORS


      Urdas was a 'Prentice to a clothesmaker in a big city. There were eight other 'Prentices, none over the age of nine, and three Journeymen, ages thirteen to fifteen. From dawn to dusk, their miserly Master worked them all very hard, and fed them poorly.

      It just so happened that one night, Urdas and one of his fellow 'Prentices were sneaking downstairs to pilfer a bit of food from the pantry. They had been caught doing this before, and been beaten for it, but they were so hungry they didn't care.

      They were almost past the Master's bedroom when they both heard someone coming out of that room. Urdas scrambled under a little work bench, and his friend hugged the wall behind the bedroom door.

      Someone in his teen years came out but they couldn't see his face. They waited until he was gone, and then they went to the kitchen and stole some cheese and some rolls.

      The next day, they were shocked to discover the Master tailor had been murdered, smothered with a sheet of thin leather about his head. You arrived soon after, and all the 'Prentices and Journeymen were questioned.

      Urdas and the other 'Prentice who had been awake tell you that they saw someone in their teens coming out of the room. The three Journeymen became the main suspects: Alfrek, Maltibis, and Klian.

      Urdas's friend tells you about seeing someone in the night. He said that he saw hair colored blond. That matches both Journeyman Alfrek and Journeyman Maltibis.

      Klian says to you that Alfrek was the Master's favorite, while Maltibis had often been beaten with a belt. Most of the 'Prentices think that the Master's death is Maltibis's doing.

      Maltibis confesses to the murder, then. He weeps and says that he had smothered the Master, that he hated him, and that he, Maltibis, should be punished.

      From under the bench, though, young Urdas says he saw a pair of legs go by. On one he saw a white scar. When you examined the Journeymen's legs, you find that both Alfrek and Klian possess scars on about the same location, their right shins.

      Maltibis had the means and the opportunity, and he seemed to have the strongest motive. That the murderer had fair hair and so did he, is still only circumstantial evidence against him.

--

      Normally, circumstantial evidence alone is not good enough to be proof of guilt. But, there is one exception to this principle: when multiple pieces of circumstantial evidence work together in a way that rules out all the alternate solutions. This is "co-confirming circumstantial evidence".

--

      Alfrek had both fair hair and a scarred shin, so you can not accept Maltibis's confession. Using the Truth Spell on Alfrek, you ask him if he killed the master. Alfrek tries to lie and say no, but the spell catches him at it.

      The story eventually comes out that Maltibis and Alfrek were good friends. Although Maltibis had been beaten, Alfrek had been secretly forced by the Master Tailor to perform painful acts that shamed and horrified him. Knowing this, Maltibis had tried to cover for his friend by claiming to be the murderer.

      Given the circumstances, you do not take Alfrek to be executed. Instead, he is sent to a Mindhealer. Maltibis and the other boys are brought to the Palace for a time, and then are adopted into families living near the palace. A few years later, the witness Urdas is Chosen, and comes to live at the Collegium as a Herald Trainee.

      And so, now you've closed the Case of the Trio of Tailors.

LESSON 4: "Separating the Probable from the Possible"
THE CASE OF THE PARANOID PILGRIM


      You are traveling through a valley in a very peaceful part of the countryside, when you come across a furre carrying a boar spear and a bundle of field-dressed carcasses. Around his neck is a thick collar with long spikes. On his legs he wears thick boots that come up to the middle of his thighs. Several large water skins hang heavily on his chest. Oddest of all, there are several dozen sealed gut bladders filled with air, tied to his back in a kind of pack.

      It's a hot day in the depths of summer, yet he's also wearing a thick warm cloak. The weather is clear, not a cloud in the sky. Your Companion informs you that she doesn't smell any rain coming.

      Bidding him good day, you find that he is a friendly sort. He asks you if you would join him for a midday meal, and you assent. He introduces himself as a hunter. He is on his way to a mountainside where he's heard that diamonds can be found. He says that he's heard the diamonds are rare but he claims to be an optimist and hopes the gods may smile upon him.

      In time, you ask him why he is dressed this way. He explains that the warm cloak is in case the weather suddenly grows cold. The collar is good in case of wolf attack to the throat. The long boots and sacks of water are to protect him in case of a grass fire. And, since the valley has been known to flood, he wears the bladders of air which will enable him to float in a heavy torrent.

      Well, while all these things are possible, they are not probable. Acting on all his worries seems to tax the man in a thousand ways, yet he doesn't seem aware of it.

      He pays his respects to your loyal steed, and says he has never seen such a handsome animal. When he smiles, your Companion mind-whispers that the fellow has an honest air about him.

      After a meal of roast duck, fresh greens, and a turnip you provided, you and your new acquaintance continue onwards. Ahead, you see a bridge that must already have been old in your grandfather's day.

      The hunter absolutely refuses to cross. He says that the wood is so old and might break. Your Companion is of a similar opinion, and silently suggests walking across the river, and even towing the hunter as he floats.

      You make this suggestion, but the hunter says that the water might be deeper than it looks. It's hard to tell. Your Companion suggests that she go across first.

      The hunter says that even if it's not too deep, there are rocks and ("Begging your pardon, your sirship,") even a Companion could break a foot on unseen stones, and fall over. He even worries that you could drown as a result.

      You inform him that you're a fairly good swimmer, even in a strong current. That's when he tells you about the flesh-eating garpike. You ask him if he saw any fish, and he admits he didn't, but you never know, there might be some in that murky water over there.

--

      There are often times when you will have to make decisions upon which your life and the lives of others may depend. And, you will have to make those decisions without complete information. You might wish for more time in which to investigate further, but time doesn't stand still, not even for the famous Heralds and Companions. How can you feel good about your choices when what you don't know, could hurt you and others? The answer is, simply, to go with what is probable, rather than what is merely possible.

      That doesn't guarantee that you'll be right. Nothing can do that. You have been forced to take a chance, so the most you can do is make sure you've got the best odds. Going with what's probable in favor of what's merely possible means that, in the long run, you're going to be right more often. That's the best you can hope for.

--

      Ultimately, you and your Companion must leave the hunter behind. Maybe it's just as well. You tell him about the mountain panthers you've seen in the hills beyond this river. Although they've never been known to attack a furre, they might smell the game he's carrying and give in to temptation. Hearing that, the hunter thanks you for your warning, and turns back towards the village that he came from.

      And so ends the Case of the Paranoid Pilgrim.

LESSON 5: "Superstitions"
THE CASE OF THE WOEFUL WELL OF CROWS

Part I: Famine

      For eleven years in a row, late rainstorms washed away newly-planted crops. It was early enough and had happened enough times before that the farmers of the region planted again. Before the crops were ripe, several hailstorms hit. After that, there came droughts that lasted all season long. As you ride your Companion at preternatural speed through the empty fields, you see the sad damage that's been done.

      People you pass are dressed fairly well but they are obviously starving. Their wrists are like sticks; there are hollows under their cheekbones.

      Months ago, someone sent a message to the Collegium asking for help. The message was not a note, but a stone with three holes drilled into it. The messenger, a man from the next village over, says that's how they ask for help in Bytons Wick. The messenger tells you about the terrible luck the Bytons Wick farmers have had. He also mentions that other villages don't want to assist because the folk of Bytons Wick are strange, and tend to drive outsiders off at arrowpoint. That someone has contacted the Heralds is very unusual.

      You decide to begin by keeping your presence secret. You arrive in the dead of night. At the center of Bytons Wick is a dry dirt plaza centered on a large well. A horrible smell, of carrion, reeks forth from it.

      You're a bit surprised to hear a procession approaching, chanting in a forgotten language. By the light of torches, you see the twenty robed marchers have heads like huge black birds. ...A strange new race, perhaps? No, masks of some sort.

      Then you notice they are carrying a struggling person- size bundle between them. Jangling copper disks, black feathers and sweet herbs in little bunches have been tied to it. They pause before the black opening of the well, and one of the bird-heads gives a singing rhyming speech in that old language.

      The hairs on the nape of your neck arise- your Companion mind-mutters that some kind of magic is at work! You're not sure what exactly is going on, but it appears they're going to throw somebody into the well!

--

      By the Queen's Law, such a practice is forbidden, as it's murder. How could decent people, albeit hungry ones, do such a thing...? They do it because it's a superstition, an unquestioned custom that appears to work.

      They've probably been practicing the sacrifice for a long time. It wasn't reported to the Crown because it was accepted and probably did not hurt the community enough to be worth fighting. Or, perhaps there was another circumstance- maybe another superstition itself- that promised dire consequences to anybody breaking the secrecy of a sacred tradition. Maybe there are beliefs that the victims are being honored, and even granted miraculous rewards in the afterlife for cooperating.

      Sometimes you'll find that isolated populations hold with some mighty odd local customs. A Herald has to be very understanding and accept that these ideas are respected because they're old and have been largely unchallenged, except by outsiders. These ideas break down in time because they aren't based on reality, they are based on a community consensus. In their minds, everybody agrees that it's so, therefore, it must be.

--

      You signal your Companion and he thunders forwards. The villagers have a fleeting impression of a massive blur of white as you seize the bound captive, put it across your saddlebow, and ride off. The stench of the dry well is sickening and as you pass near it, you catch a fleeting glimpse of a dozen more bodies already thrown in there!

Part II: The Coming of the Crows

      You and your Companion take the struggling rescue-ee to a secluded field many miles from Bytons Wick. Under the hood you find a very old furre, his hair turned white with age. He's shocked to see you, and he is weeping.

      He wails, "You should not have stopped the priests. The Crow-spirits will be even more angry now." You give him time to calm down and ask him to explain what was happening.

      The old man says that it is the custom in Bytons Wick to sacrifice the oldest person in the village every forty years, to appease the Crow-spirits. Following this formula, they have been prosperous for centuries. They believe that Crow-spirits are the givers of rain, coming to spy on the villagers in crow form to make sure nobody is slacking off.

      When the rainstorms came, the priests decreed that they must not have been sacrificing enough. The last sacrifice had been an old woman. There had been some dispute as to whether she or her husband had been the eldest villagers. So, her husband volunteered to be next, and they promptly threw him down the well.

      The year after that, the crops came as they should have, but after that, the storms began again. So the priests decided that there needed to be even more sacrifices, until there was some sign that the Crow-spirits were once again pleased.

--

      You might think that the failure of a superstition would lead to its abandonment. Sometimes it does. But often, if a superstition fails to work, superstitious folk have no logical choice but to assume that either they didn't perform it correctly, or that it wasn't done enough. Sometimes, that it is just plain wrong is just not an option for them to consider. When superstitions fail, you'll often find the assumed remedy is to practice the superstition even harder!

--

      You inquire about the Crow-spirits and the Priests. The old man tells you that Priests are villagers and their identity is kept secret. New Priests are recruited by the older ones, and their faces are never seen again, as they always wear the crow-masks in public.

      They say their leader is never seen without his mask, however, even by the other priests. When the sacrifice is chosen, the priests are not eligible, although their leader is far older than a grandfather.

      You learn that the Crow-spirit priesthood lives in a long building with its own farm fields, eight miles east of the village. Leaving the old man to wait for your return, you leave your Companion behind and go to investigate on your own.

      The building has no windows, but it does have a door at each end. Under the law, you have grounds to arrest every one of these masked priests. However, the reality of it is that you are just one furre against fifteen. If you are to stop the killings, you will have to somehow secure the good graces of the rest of the villagers. So, you listen carefully...

      Hearing no one inside, you slip into the longbuilding. Within, you find sleeping quarters on either side, just simple cells hung with leather curtains, small fires beneath chimneys along its length for use in the cold of winter.

--

      Even with the Queen's authorization and a Herald's pure heart, it isn't usual for us to go poking around in someone's private quarters. We believe in the ethic of "personal privacy". Before we go invading in this fashion, a crime has to be committed first, and there has to be good reason to think that this person committed it.

      Similarly, out of respect for privacy, when we ask questions under the Truth Spell, we also limit it to questions relevant to the investigation.

      In this instance, we already clearly know that the priests of the Crow-spirits have killed people. There is just cause to go snooping around in their effects, without their permission.

--

      You've just reached the head priest's area, an actual separate room, when you hear a mild commotion. The priests have returned, and they are using both of the longbuilding's entrances. With no opportunity to leave, you hide yourself swiftly behind some hides hung in a corner of the room.

      The head priest gives the order for everyone to cease discussion and go directly to bed. You also hear him ordering them not to tell the other villagers what really happened. He instructs them all to lie- to say that there was a great flash of smoke, and a flurry of crows in the night, and that this last sacrifice was carried away, a sure sign that the Crow-spirits are satisfied.

      You also hear him saying that they will soon track and kill the hoofed white devil beast that stole the Crow-spirits' rightful gift. Then, the head priest comes in, closing and locking his room's door. When he takes off his mask, you see he is-- a young man.

      You wait until he, and everyone else, are asleep. You find nothing significant amongst his possessions. Thinking fast, you steal his crow mask. Then, you slip out, and jog back to your camp some miles away.

      The old man is waiting for you. Your Companion informs you that the elder was going to leave but then your Companion blocked his way until he sat down again.

      You ask the old man if he wants to go back. He shakes his head. Although he wants his family and friends and the rest of the village to prosper, he also does not want to die. If he goes back, he thinks they will again try to sacrifice him.

      If you appear to the villagers, they will most likely try to drive you off with arrows. They are mostly afraid of outsiders. You consider leaving a letter but then you remember there probably isn't anybody here who reads and writes. You tell the old man what you heard and saw in the Crow-spirit longbuilding temple.

      A young man? Lying to the people...? The old man is shocked. He says that he thinks there is evil magic at work. The villagers, and especially the Crow-spirit priests, of Bytons Wick will not listen to a Herald, but they will listen to one of their own...

--

      If it isn't a matter of upholding the Queen's law, should you interfere? You are going to see things that, while legal, you may find morally or ethically offensive. There's no standard course of action in this case, but one principle, one ethic, that the Heralds uphold, is that everyone has the right to accuracy. Another important ethic, though, is that people of a community have a right to govern themselves.

      Usually, the best help that you can give is to encourage education and exposure to communities with a different point of view. Especially in the case of superstitions, the people are operating on a "consensus-based" rather than "reason-based" idea.

      Consensus-based ideas are actually fragile. They don't survive very long if even just a minority dissents. That's why they tend to occur more in isolated than in cosmopolitan groups of people.

      But, it takes more than simple dissent to change their minds. An outsider telling someone in a community outright saying "Your beliefs are wrong," is often ineffective. After all, what do YOU know about their way of life, the choices they have to make and the difficulties they face to survive? Interference could make you, and the other Heralds, unwelcome: you're a troublemaker, stirring things up, giving people "ideas". Don't expect a solution to happen within weeks, or months. It may take years, even decades.

      A longterm solution is the most desirable. Usually, this means convincing someone to leave their isolation for a time. Encouraging merchants to visit neighboring communities is a good start. Helping to arrange for apprenticeships in other areas might also be good. There's no guarantee that they will change their mind, but, if it's a decision made by a community, then someone within the community deserves the chance at a broader view.

      This is perhaps one reason that the Chosen come from all over the kingdom, and from all possible walks of life. Part of a Herald's education at the Collegium is to acquire as accurate a view of the world as possible. Knowing what is "likely" is a large part of what we call "common sense". Common sense is made up of two things: what *most* people believe (the "common" beliefs), and knowing what is "common". The Collegium is a collection of thoughts and reasoning from all over.

--

      The people of Bytons Wick assemble to hear the announcements of the Crow-priests. When they hear of the miraculous cloud of smoke and the flock of crows in the night, they are very happy. The terrifying sacrifices of their grandparents and parents to the Crow-spirits are at an end at last.

      The Head Priest is standing triumphantly when one of the other priests breaks ranks. He takes off his crow mask to reveal-- the old man who was supposedly spirited away!

      The old man loudly denounces the Head Priest. He tells the people that the man is a fraud-- and an evil wizard to boot. When the Head Priest is revealed to be a young man instead of an old one, the nature of his dark magic is made plain: the sacrifices were not to appease the Crow-spirits, but, instead, to rejuvenate the Head Priest.

      Enraged, the people of Bytons Wick take the Head Priest and cast him down the well. At this time, the sky is suddenly filled with stormclouds and a flurry of dark wings. To the rumble of thunder, a great flock of crows has appeared. They fly down the well, carrying up everything down there, bearing it away into the sky. Then, in an end to the drought, it begins to gently rain.

      The masked priests fall to their knees, faces to the ground, giving thanks. Two of the crows alight on the shoulders of one priest, and stay with him. He becomes the new Head Priest. He asks to talk to the old man.

      The old man is gratefully taken back by his family. The new Head Priest knows about the Companions and the Heralds, and asks the old man about you. The new Head Priest reveals himself as the one who sent the three-holed stone and the messenger.

      In time, you are invited back to Bytons Wick, but this time, as a welcome guest. The sacrifice of old people is abolished. The priests stop wearing crow-masks that conceal their faces, except during the harvest festival. This was the custom that they originally held years ago.

      With your help, relations are opened again with the other villages, and they begin trading again. The Queen grants a loan for sacks of food, to be repaid when the crops have come back healthy for several years.

      And so, you have now solved the Case of the Woeful Well of Crows.

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