"Dukes, come in, take a seat, get your self a drink."
The long table in the meeting room is already laid out with food drink.
"I apologies on hustling you all up here but.. fuck it, we got issues. I will start with some good news, the kings guard increased by twelve this week! A group of the old boys crawled in here begging to be put back on the roster. Turns out Bold couldn't make good with his promises, so i signed 'em back up, no pay and no looting rights for four seasons."
After a long drink and a sigh he continues.
"As of three days ago i have issued marching orders for all of the Kings guard, with the exception of his personal guard. They have separated into two squadrons and have been ordered to patrol the southern flatland's border with the specific task of killing bandits. Now before you get your undergarments in a twist i did this for two reasons. One, bandit problem. Those assholes have a free range in the southern flatland's and the peasants need to see their "King" doing something about it.
Two, the Kings Guard make terrible fucking guards. The keeper informs me by his estimation the rate of thefts and rapes have quintupled since we took over, most of these being done by the guard. These boys ain't guards, there murdering scumbags, with no moral compass. We are better off sending them out to the front lines where they can kill, loot and fuck bandits rather then the serfs.
It does leave us with a major issue though. We need guards to police and protect our territories and we need 'em fast..."
He slumps back in his chair and drains the remaining ale in his mug.
"Sooo any suggestions.."
A hundred years from now, D&D 99.5E will have pared the game down to four skills - Hurting, Breaking, Living, and Talking. Talking will be a dump stat for most classes.