Why did Alric always have to stick his nose into everything? The giant oaf was probably worried about that innkeeper they barely knew, thinking something about how this is a miscarriage of justice. They were barely staying afloat with their new lifestyle as it was, now Alric decided to add more to their plate. Danny was just worried about whether they’d still get the room.

Following Alric out of the common room, Danny was inundated with the wave of commotion as what seemed to be half the town stood gawking. The guards circled around a massive stone pillar in front of the mayor’s estate. It was only due to the occasional scream of vehemence from within the circle that cut through the wave of murmuring like a knife. The whole scene made Danny sick to his stomach, sure he wouldn’t interfere with whatever this whole process was but that didn’t mean he’d take part in it, watching just as dispassionately as those around them; looking at a crying woman like a pig up for slaughter for their entertainment.

Danny turned away from the sight, only just realizing his gaze had been unblinking. Patting Alric on the shoulder to grab his attention, he spoke in a breathless tone, “I need a drink. I’ll be in the bar if you need me.”

Stepping back over the scraps of what remained of the door Danny walked through the disturbingly empty common room to the bar. He spared a second glance to the wall of colorful glasses that promised a sweet release from his woes before shaking his head and making his way into the kitchen. The kitchen seemed near identical to the one at the Squeaky Hinge, from the few times Danny had been back there. Walls were lined with clean wooden tables that held scattered pots and cooking instruments. Hanging from the ceiling was smoked fish and stored tubers that were currently indiscernible, but Danny suspected potatoes and carrots, considering the overturned stewpot that was slowly pooling across the floor. The coals in the center of the room sizzled where they met with what was supposed to be lunch.

Danny took a squat down and examined the coals, extending a hand over the embers. Judging them to be hot enough, he set about finding a small pot and the water. The water was simple enough, a quick glance showed a bucket from some well on the table; the pot is where the issues lied. Danny was going through a quick rummage of the pots when he heard a rattle followed by a yelp. Startled, Danny paused, his head darting towards the source of the sound.

Huddled in the corner was a tear-stained boy shaking underneath a table. He seemed so pathetic and lost hiding there, his auburn hair in disarray. Lords, he looked a few summers shy of Jov. Danny attempted to approach the crying boy, crouching down to be eye level with him but a single step caused the kid to startle and shrink further into himself crying, "I-I won't say anything! I promise, please don't take me away like Mommy! Please don't take me away! Please don't…"

Danny felt the bile rise in his throat at the sight of the rocking boy muttering to himself. Silently, Danny continued his task, finding a small iron pot that he filled with water before placing it directly onto the coals. While the water boiled Danny went through the cabinets, finding a clay kettle and some tea leaves. At least Danny hoped it to be tea leaves, they smelled vaguely of tea leaves but could've been rosemary for all he knew. It was simple enough to steep some tea, with Danny making sure to keep an eye on the boy; the kid was wary, no longer crying but instead tensed as if ready to flee at a moment's notice.

Danny placed a cup of tea before the boy, seeing him flinch as he reached forward. Did the guards not have any shred of human decency in them? This question haunted Danny's mind as he wandered back into the common room, stopping only briefly for the closest bottle before collapsing into a chair and slowly nursing those dark thoughts.

Danny barely registered when Alric joined him, taking a long draw from the bottle. They sat there in silence, each preparing and ruminating on what they experienced. Finally, Alric broke the spell that held them, "They've got her bound in the square. They're saying she's a heretic and letting the mob deal with her," he seemed disgusted by the prospect.

Choosing to ignore his own experience, Danny supplied the obvious question Alric wanted, "What about proof?"

Alric shook his head, "Not exactly parading around the bloody knife, not that the town would care, having already made up their minds. 'Death is too good for her,' they're screaming."

Now it was time for the important part, sighing to himself Danny reluctantly asked, "What are we going to do about it?"

That got Alric to look up from his staring a hole through the table. "What?" He cried, "I mean sure I was thinking of something, but what do you mean we?"

Danny made sure to take an extra helping of liquid courage before countering, "I thought I made it abundantly clear already. We're in this together now, no more you or me, just us. Obviously, you were going to do something about this anyway while declaring something grand about justice. Now wha-"

Alric sputtered out, "Wha-what? How did you know?" Alric looked very solemn for a moment considering something, "Danny… can you read minds?"

Danny's lips tugged into an ever-widening smile before he burst into maddening laughter. Some part of his mind ached for a joke right now, at least some levity to this situation. Alric on the other hand, seemed to just be distressed, no doubt about Danny's mental state, which just made it so much worse for Danny. Finally collecting himself, Danny eked out, "No mate, all I can do is play a pleasant song."

Alric seemed to finally get that he was the target of Danny's mockery, ripened in embarrassment. "It's not an unreasonable conclusion," he mumbled, "you've heard the stories too."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Danny having finally contained himself, turned the conversation back around, "Well what were you thinking?"

Alric thought aloud, "Well, I'd guess it would be best to figure out first if the crimes are even misplaced. After all, an act of heresy against the high court is a big deal, with the whole town potentially at risk, so they'd need to make a spectacle of it. We need to get inside the mayor's house and find what evidence they actually have against her. The only question is how?"

It was a decent enough problem, not like they could waltz in there and ask to talk to the mayor in his study. Unless…

"That's it!" Danny snapped, "We just need to get into the mayor's office right? And I'm sure the mayor would do that for any important people he meets. So all we need is an important person to get through the front gate."

"But we don't know anyone important," Alric said.

"We happen to know the scion of an influential family within Northrend..." Danny let the words fade to make his point clear.

Alric's face paled as he finally made the connection after enough prodding to kill a cow. Hesitantly he whined, "Do we really have too? What about you, how will you get in?"

"Why every adventuring young tosspot from the big city needs a bard to sing about their deeds," Danny finished with a devious smile.

"How will you be a bard, you look nothing like how they do in the stories!" Alric exclaimed with more confidence than he had for the rest of the conversation.

"Let me worry about that," Danny supplied as he thought. Alric was right, they needed to come across as obvious as possible to divert suspicion, that meant he had things to get. "You should start working on getting yourself better put together, and work on your best Bruno too."

"Where are you going?" Alric called after Danny was already striding towards the door.

"Shopping!" was all Danny bothered to shout back after he was out the doorway.

The only thing that had changed about the main square since Danny had last seen it was the magnitude. It felt like they were celebrating Nameday a day late, with every stall back in full force as only entrepreneurial merchants would seek to associate themselves with such a grim affair. The crowds were packed and carried a breath that hung in the air affecting everything around it, except instead of ruckus festivities it was tearing a member of their own community limb from limb.

Danny had to crane his neck to peek over the head, searching through the stalls. Danny realized any stranger asking around for a lute and minstrel outfit would raise some brows that guards running an investigation unto the identity of a noble personage would be sure to catch. So Danny simply had to ask another stranger, and soon he found the perfect target.

Pushing through the crowd, Danny came upon a peddler's cart that was somehow garish and rundown at the same time. The walls of the cart were coated in vibrant paint that was peeling, covered only by an obscene amount of junk on display. In front of the cart was a small table that had rotting fruit on it with a sign detailing three for one Hill.

The man conducting such a menagerie was fittingly clothed in what was a farmer’s imagination of wealth, not a single article was absent gold, every finger held at least one ring and his neck was bulging to stay upright with the jewelry encasing it. Though the cart matched the owner in the telling patches on his wardrobe, necklaces had chipped in place revealing a dull lead. Danny already felt his head throbbing but before he could second guess his decision, the peddler had already spotted his prey.

“Why salutations good sir,” the man smiled deviously, barely stumbling on his words, “How can this humble servant, Ernest, help your elevated self?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re clearly the humblest of servants and since I am such a fine exquisite master then what is a few more Hills right? Well, that’s where you're wrong, you are merely a servant talking to a servant, so let’s cut to the chase on this one okay?”

Ernest’s smile became strained but impressively he continued to blow smoke, “I'm not sure what young sir means. However, if it is goods you want then this servant would be happy to help.”

"Right…" Danny droned, straightfaced, "I'll need some bright showy garb, something like what you're wearing would be perfect. Also, I'll need a lute if you have it."

Ernest lived up to his name in quickly gathering the goods coming out of the cart with clothes fit for a jester that Danny suspected was a favorite of the trader. Surprisingly enough the man had a lute, though Danny soon realized why. The lute case looked worse for wear, but still held strong enough, it was the green sheen of the lute that made Danny wary of even getting near it. Danny had never heard of a lute being made of groed wood; the cheap lumber out of Grendale was useless for practically everything except firewood. The only reason it was harvested was to make sure the forest didn't overrun all of Cyruth.

Though, that all made little difference to how desperate Danny was for a lute. Even without the plan, he felt himself growing antsy without strumming a tune. Lamenting how far he'd fallen, Danny inquired, "How much for everything?"

Ernest suddenly predatory, answered as calculating as possible, "Well for such a strong young master like you, how about a Sun?"

Danny about near choked himself. A Sun was twenty blasted Moons, that would be most of his savings. Struggling with himself for a moment, he finally let out, "Fifteen Moons?"

"Eighteen."

"Sixteen."

Ernest tilted his head side to side, weighing his internal scales before reaching out his hand. Danny accepted and begrudgingly dolled out the coins. Grabbing his new disguise Danny left quickly. It was time to get to work.