Lucian arrived in Duskwatch expecting a barren wasteland. Instead, he found… well, a barren wasteland, but one that glared at him with the accusing eyes of starving peasants and desperate merchants.

He had barely set foot inside the crumbling town hall when his newly appointed treasurer, Dorian Lockewood, practically threw himself at Lucian’s feet. "My lord! The treasury is empty, the granaries are bare, and the tax collectors have been fleeing for months! What shall we do?"

Lucian, still exhausted from the journey, waved a lazy hand. "Forget the taxes."

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Silence.

Dorian blinked. "Pardon?"

"Forget the taxes. Stop collecting them."

A beat passed. Then two. Then three. Dorian’s expression transformed from sheer horror to pure awe. "My lord… that is… revolutionary!"

Lucian yawned. "Great. Problem solved. Someone get me a bed."

Little did he realize, his offhand remark would spark the single greatest economic revival Duskwatch had ever seen.