Doran took the task of handing out belongings very seriously. Black-and-White Bear and the other players had neither the time nor the inclination to bother with it.
The job was genuinely a hassle. The players were happy to investigate robberies, murders, rapes, and the like, but had absolutely no interest in handing things out.
Why was that?
The answer was simple-tedious work like handing out belongings offered the players neither the thrill of combat nor any direct reward. They preferred to spend their time and energy on activities that quickly brought them a sense of achievement and resources.
Things like fighting, plundering, or even those brutal "judgment rituals."
To them, handing out belongings was more like logistical work. It required patience and attention to detail, precisely what most players lacked.
They preferred to leave such tasks to someone willing to do them, like Doran, freeing themselves up to handle more important matters, such as consolidating their control over the town or planning their next operation.
Doran was different. He seemed to have no aversion to such tedious work; in fact, he approached it with an almost obsessive enthusiasm. He carefully counted every item, checked where it had come from, and returned each one to its owner according to the townspeople's descriptions.
He even took the initiative to ask townspeople who looked lost or helpless, making sure they could recover what belonged to them.
"Auntie Brenda, these should be yours... Please check."
As Doran spoke, he handed a pile of bloodstained pottery to a trembling woman.
The woman accepted the pottery, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, but grief soon overshadowed it. She spoke softly.
"These are what my husband left behind... He was killed."
Doran nodded without saying anything more. He simply continued his work in silence, as though