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<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">Initiative 13 vs DC 12</span>
Damien's mischief can wait for now. He has his priorities and you have yours. His may come from a so-called Knightly Order composed in its entirely of pardoned heretics, but ultimately they answer to the King. Damien's sorceries put you ill at ease and you trust him only half as far as you can throw him, but it is not your place to question the King's judgment.
If the one who sits upon the Daffodil Throne trusts Damien, then you suppose you can at least trust that his work shall not hinder the efforts to scour this village clean of the Dark One's taint.
"This way," you whisper through your helm. Some murmurs of confusion follow as you guide around the front and to the sides of the old church. There, the masonry that stands is old and crumbling, as its timbers groan under the weight of ages and neglect. This warrants the explanation that, "The doors reek of evocation. The enemy wishes for us to charge in blindly. I would not give them what they want, when we can make our own door. Martin, I believe you are carrying Hilde's <span class="mu-i">Knockers</span>?"
For some reason, Martin makes a choking sound while some of the other men-at-arms chuckle. For some reason, Vaast offers assurance that, "We've all handled Hilde's knockers at one point or another, Madame."
"Aye, even I've had a chance to handle her knockers," Annette says with an oddly proud tone in her voice. A few of the men whistle and make odd comments about that being 'nice' when she declares, "Best I've ever had, if I had to say. She's always willing to take feedback and experiment."
You're quite glad to hear that Hilde's been quite diligent in improving her skill in the arts as a khemist. The duke sent her to your fief to advise you in all natural philosophies, but she always specialized in artifice. When she first arrived in your household, she knew less of the khemical than you absorbed from Rene, so very long ago...
But that is not the point right now. The responsibility for carrying specialized equipment changes up with each campaign, to ensure that all of your men-at-arms have experience in each role. Still, you're quite sure that the papers for this assignment say, "Martin <span class="mu-i">is</span> the one holding onto the Knockers today, yes?"
For some reason, that makes your men chuckle all the more. Even Boric lets out a snort of laughter, though he quiets up when you turn your head towards him in confusion. What is it that they find so funny?
After a moment, Martin speaks up, "Aye, madame. I've... uh... got the Knockers. How many should we need?"
You rap a steel-clad knuckle against the masonry. A light and hollow sound returns, a testament to the wear that ages, neglect, and fire have brought upon the once hallowed structure. "Hmmm... with the state of the masonry, I would say one should suffice. Hilde's Knockers are quite large when they explode, wouldn't you say?"</span>
