“Find them! Bring them back here. They will pay for this.” The tin crown in his hand dented as he threw it to the ground.
“My lord, perhaps-”
“My Lord? My LORD? I am a Duke of the royal house! You will address me by my proper title!”
“Of course, sir.”
“The correct form of address is ‘Your Grace’ you snivelling twit! Guards! Take this waste of space out of my sight!”
“Please sir-” the advisor began
“NOW!”
- - - -
“I bet he’s pissed” Feris said, checking over his shoulder.
“Pissed? I bet that vein on his forehead is ready to pop by now” Nimble howled.
“And didn’t he deserve it?” Rathgar said smugly. “Hiring us to break into his great uncle’s tomb, get the old regalia, not getting to keep anything, and then having us thrown out without even a word of thanks. Why should we have told him about the curse?”
“Gentleman, for once, I am in complete agreement with you.” Allianora smiled.
Cursed Crown of Corinson
Prior to his death, Prince Corinson had his friend and advisor place a curse upon his crown. Anyone who would try to use it to rule who was not of his direct bloodline would turn the crown from silver to tin and for as long as they rule suffer a -2 penalty to their reaction rolls. In addition, others will refuse to call the cursed ruler by the correct title, always using a lesser title, or none at all
Oh, burn!
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