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It is your father's funeral day. The small church is packed with all the men and women of the village (the children are outside engaged in innocent games). You generally like funerals (though you would never admit it out loud) for the baker, who has the privilege of living in the castle, will often send down treats, by way of his wife (and, so it is said, for some secret penance), for the attendants to eat. The honeycakes he has made this time are delectable, though your enjoyment of them is dampened by the circumstance.
Among the gathered crowd, the reeve cuts an impressive figure, dressed in his best finery and attended by his fair daughter, Amelia. The new reeve, you should say, for his own father is on his last legs and is expected to pass on himself any day now. He has, in the last month, taken over most of his father's duties, and has proven himself a much harder-hearted man; more miserly, but also of a cooler temper.
As the service concludes, he meets your eyes and gestures for you to wait for him outside. He wishes to speak with you. You cannot say you crave his company, but he is the owner of your father's boat--your boat now--and upon his favor your entire livelihood depends, as much as many of the other fishermen in the village. No doubt he wants to makes sure you understand your debts and secure assurances that you will pay them.
You decide that:
>Today is not the day for such things. You will head straight home to check on your last family member.
>You will meet with him out of courtesy, and in the meantime, you'll chat with his daughter, Amelia, a girl you've known since you were little but from whom you've drifted apart as of late
>You'll confront him about the lordling's part in your father's death. He must've heard something, given how frequently he visits the castle (no doubt to curry favor with the lord who has recently returned from campaign).
>Write-in