“Grand mornin’ to ya fine ladies!” the innkeeper’s voice boomed through the mostly empty common room.

Strella and Ariaska had found the Grand Emperor’s Inn a street down from the gatehouse.

“What can I get ya? Breakfast? A room? Or maybe both!”

“A meal for now and perhaps the latter later,” Strella said.

“Please, sit where it pleases ya! Menu’s on the table… call out when ya ready!” the innkeeper beamed.

Strella picked a table against the wall where she could keep an eye on every doorway in the common room. The innkeeper’s smile had been genuine, but she had read an undercurrent of disquiet in his thoughts. Fear, uncertainty and anger. It had been exactly the same in the citizens of Mastifon.

She leaned her rapier against the table and picked up a curious piece of paper off the table.

“That’s an odd menu,” Ariaska said lightly. “The Lords are stealing the fruits of your orchards… a mixed bowl of fresh fruit,” she raised a brow. “Rise up? Could be sunny eggs. Do not be sheep… strange name for lamb stew.”

Strella read through the contents of the seditious leaflet twice before Ariaska waved for the innkeeper.

The smiling man took their orders.

Before he return to the kitchen, Strella waved the leaflet. “What is this? Narchist?” she pointed to the name at the top.

The man’s smile slipped a fraction.

Suspicion filled his thoughts.

“Just local concerns that the people have. Things haven’t been good with the lord and the council.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, “they’d been gettin’ greedy lately. Pushin' the people too far… ya know how it is,” he shrugged.

A small stack of leaflets had been waiting on the back doorstep two days ago. He had found that the contents resonated with him, which is why he had placed a leaflet on every table.

The innkeeper didn’t know anything beyond that.

“Seems like too nice of a man to be part of a rebel cabal,” Ariaska leaned forward with a whisper. “Which is what he’d want us to think…”

“Thoughts on the writing?”

Ariaska’s brows rose. “Uh… well… the words seem to be designed to elicit a strong emotional response in the reader. I can’t say that it does so for me, since I’ve never worked in the fields that it’s alluding to, but I can see how farmers, laborers and such would be affected. Especially, if these invectives toward the local leadership are true.”

“They are inflammatory.”

“Not mutually exclusive,” Ariaska shrugged.

“Riots aren’t the proper vehicle to address disputes.”

“The vast majority of people don’t have an unattached justiciar around to take care of criminal or outright evil lords and ladies,” Ariaska raised a brow.

Strella knew that the Chronicler had more on her mind.

Ariaska remained silent as she proceeded to write into her journal.

Strella read the leaflet again.

She realized that she couldn’t openly question citizens. Going to the lord, council or the town guards was pointless. They likely had no true idea of what brewed under their watch. The guards at the gate hadn’t known anything of what had happened to River Glade, neither did the handful of people she had come across on the street, nor did the innkeeper.

She concluded that Tyranon’s leadership would keep things as quiet as possible for as long as they could.

The innkeeper returned with their meal.

Strella read through his memories looking for a plain, yellow-haired young woman and found nothing. She did the same to every other person that walked into the common room and discovered the same.

She sat and ate in silence while Ariaska did the same as she continued to write.

Three quarters of an hour passed before Ariaska closed her journal. “On to the next inn?” she said.

“Yes.”

“Most inns I’ve ever been in…” Ariaska said.

They spent the next several hours checking the other inns in Tyranon.

To allay suspicion they always drank or ate something.

Strella knew that Ariaska had been dying to ask her a question.

As she settled into her room at the Grand Emperor’s Inn later that night, there was a knock on her door.

Strella considered ignoring it, but it grew insistent.

“Chronicler,” Strella opened the door.

Ariaska pushed the rest of the way in and shut the door behind her. “Just thought we could go over today’s events for your chronicle.”

“I don’t see the need. You were by my side the entirety of it.”

“Right, we went to every inn, drank and ate, thank you again for covering that, by the way… I haven’t eaten this way in a long time… but, we did all that and nothing else? No questions asked, no stealthy searching through rooms for clues, so on and so forth,” Ariaska said.

“I was making my presence known for two reasons. One… to draw out the suspect or her associates. Two… word of an armed woman riding a mechaniform will spread. Those plotting a repeat of the events in Mastifon and River Glade may reconsider.”

A partial truth.

Ariaska went to the small desk and proceeded to write that down. “Your thoughts on how all that went? You think it worked?” she pressed.

“Uncertain,” Strella spoke truth.

She hadn’t read anything on the suspect.

Of the leaflets, certainly. Those had been circulating around the entire town since Jocuvel’s arrival. They appeared on doorsteps, slid into homes and business, posted on work for hire board outside all of the different guilds and even nailed into the door of the council hall. The last had drawn the most attention from the citizenry and the leadership.

Tension had built in Tyranon, like a pot on the verge of boiling over.

“Don’t wander the streets tonight,” Strella warned.

“That bad, huh? I was getting that sense. A lot of scowling people out there. The hard-eyed staring was a bit unnerving. Good thing I’ve got you around,” Ariaska said without looking up from her writing. “I take it your warning is for me walking alone?”

Strella nodded.

“Then good thing I’ll be with you.”

Strella shook her head. “You’re a potential liability in the event that violence occurs.”

“Dark deeds require dark nights. The story will be out there with you, not stuck in my room like a pampered princess. I know enough to stay out of your way. I’ve traveled with more than a few adventurers in the past,” Ariaska said.

“I can’t force you to stay, but your safety is your responsibility.”

“That’s what I agreed to… just… are we going to eat dinner first?” Ariaska said.

“I don’t go into potential fights with a full stomach.”

Ariaska sighed and rose to leave. “Since I’m not going to be doing any fighting, I’d better get a quick bite to eat before we go.”

“You have a quarter hour.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“As you say, milady,” Ariaska sketched an impeccable bow.

Strella considered leaving the Chronicler behind.

But, she wouldn’t do that when the woman planned to follow her regardless.

Would Ariaska change her mind if she knew the truth, Strella thought. No.

The Chronicler would’ve been more excited had she known that Strella had learned that there was a rally secretly scheduled to occur in just a few hours outside the council hall.

She stared at her rapier and shooter on the small desk next to the bed.

How much violence would she have to do?

“Uncertain,” she whispered.

There where too many variables and unknowns.

Was Jocuvel truly behind the unrest? If she wasn’t, then who was? If she was, then was she truly alone or where there others aiding her?

The Classes of all potentially involved were another set of concerns. Skills and spells were dangerous to deal with, especially if they were higher leveled.

Experience had taught her that she’d have all the answers she needed in time.

By that same token she knew that the one question that could only be answered after an event was how many bodies there’d be on the ground.

Later, Strella strode through the torch-lit streets while Ariaska struggled to keep up.

Her black hair flew in the strong breeze. She was overdue for a trim. She carried her sleek, steel helm by its chin strap.

“You aren’t telling me something,” Ariaska said.

Strella kept scanning the empty streets.

“I feel like there’s going to be trouble. The inn’s dining room was mostly empty when I was eating. I got the impression that wasn’t normal. The restaurants we passed were all pretty empty too.” Ariaska lowered her voice. “Are we going to be in the middle of the same thing that happened in River Glade?”

“Perhaps,” Strella conceded.

“Well…” Ariaska cleared her throat, “you’ll stop it before it gets that far.”

“That is my task.”

“You found out where Jocuvel is? That’s where we’re headed? You could’ve told me earlier,” Ariaska said.

“No,” Strella corrected.

“What’re we doing then?” Ariaska looked around. “The streets shouldn’t be this empty at this time. It’s still early.” She pointed at a pub across the street, “that place should be filled with people. Where are the people?”

They walked in silence, which made it easy to hear what sounded like chanting.

Many voices in near unison. Angry voices.

“Oh…” Ariaska’s eyes widened like saucers as they turned the corner, “I see.”

The council hall stood at the end of the wide street.

A mass of people waved torches while they shouted.

Strella recognized their words as variations of those written in the leaflet.

Town guards stood in a line formation blocking the mass from getting closer to the council hall.

“That’s a lot of people and a lot of guardsmen. A town this size, I’d say most of their complement are out there,” Ariaska said. “I’d bet my last coin that the council and lord are in there.”

“Likely a winning one,” Strella agreed.

“There’s hundreds, maybe even over a thousand,” Ariaska murmured.

She scanned the mass for a leader. Someone leading the shouts. To her surprise she couldn’t see one. “Chronicler, do you see anyone leading the shouts?”

“No,” Ariaska said after a few moments. “I’ve observed a few protests and rallies… there’s always a few people leading.”

Strella nodded.

“Maybe we’re just not seeing them. It’s hard to see with all that movement in the torchlight. Too many dancing shadows,” Ariaska said.

Strella frowned as she focused on the large crowd. It was like trying to read hundreds of angry books at the same time. The words on a multitude of pages mixing together in chaos, creating a jumbled, illegible mess.

“If one was inciting this where would she be right now,” Strella muttered.

“Honestly, if it was me, I’d be already out of town,” Ariaska said.

Strella agreed except for one thing. The crowd was angry, but not enough to fight. It would take more of a push to duplicate the violence they had seen at River Glade.

“Although,” Ariaska held up a finger, “I think you’d want to build up to what we saw at River Glade. A few nights of this to push the people into a froth. Do that and you do the same to the lord, council and guards. Both sides will be quicker to violence after that. Then you can flee.”

“The perpetrator wouldn’t be in the middle of that, but they’d need to be close enough if Skills or spells were involved,” Strella said.

Ariaska eyed her.

The latter knew that former had confirmed something that had been consuming her thoughts all day.

Ariaska took her journal and quill out of her bag. “Ink,” she whispered to the tip of her quill before hastily scribbling into her journal. “Couldn’t it be just as likely that Jocuvel would need to be in the middle of that to maximize the effect of her abilities?”

“Perhaps, but the way those leaflets were distributed… the secrecy…” Strella shook her head, “if she is our culprit, then she’ll be somewhere nearby, but hidden.”

Strella scanned the rooftops of the short structures that lined both sides of the street.

It was too dark for her to spot anything that might have been a person.

“You know, what they’re yelling, the cadence… it’s pretty… inspiring, but that’s odd now that I think about it,” Ariaska said. She put her things away.

Strella eyed her and read her mind.

Ariaska didn’t know it, but she was being drawn in by the angry crowd’s chants. It was a weak thread, but it was growing stronger.

“Lords and councils all over Unity have been known to take more than their fair share from the citizenry,” Ariaska said. “What do they provide in return? Order? What good is that if a person can barely make enough to live? Don’t all people deserve a certain minimum level of comfort? After all none of us asked to be born. It’s only a matter of luck if you’re born into a noble’s family or a shopkeeper’s. You know… food still gets made even if there were no lords. I think—”

“Remember your purpose,” Strella said.

Ariaska blinked.

“You’re a Chronicler, here to record and write a story. That’s what lies in front of you. How can you do that if you place yourself into it?”

“Huh? That was strange,” Ariaska muttered.

Strella knew that the Chronicler still wasn’t entirely free from the unknown effects that was partially pushing the crowd. She suspected that it’d be the same for her had she been without the walls around her mind.

“Skills or spells?” Ariaska regarded Strella with suspicion.

“I don’t know.”

“Why not both,” Ariaska shrugged.

“Perhaps it’d be wiser if you moved away and found a more distant spot to observe,” Strella said.

Ariaska narrowed her eyes. “Trying to get me out of the way? Hide your activities?”

“The suspicion you’re feeling is likely one of the effects,” Strella said.

The Chronicler was now a liability and Strella regretted bringing her along.

Ariaska nodded after a tense moment. “Okay, but you’ll have to recount everything later,” she pointed a finger in Strella’s face.

“Agreed.”

Strella knew that Ariaska wasn’t fully in control of herself, so she ignored the disrespect.

“Fair enough,” Ariaska said.

The Chronicler turned around and walked down the street, farther away from the angry crowd.

Strella wasn’t certain, but she felt that the chants had grown louder and faster. As if it was music building to the crescendo.

No more wasting time.

She walked toward the crowd until she spied an alley to her left. She sprinted and leapt, planting a foot on the wall to help her grasp the edge of the single story building’s roof. She pulled herself up smoothly.

Strella stalked the rooftops for any sign of her suspect.

“You’ve had your say!” A loud voice boomed over the angry chants.

Strella recognized it as a Skill. The captain of the guard, one of the councilmen or even the town lord. Whoever it was, the leadership had enough of the crowd’s presence.

“Disperse and return to your homes!”

The chants only grew louder.

Strella felt the anger in them grow.

The fools were only stoking the flames.

An impending inferno brewed.

Strella quickened her search. Abandoning the idea of stealth entirely. She reached the end of the rooftops on her side of the street without finding anyone.

She looked down.

The torches shined and obscured the mass of people she knew was there.

The light seemed to undulate like the white water crashing on the shore as the crowd pushed forward into the thin line of town guards keeping them back.

“Under my authority, granted by the Emperor, I command you to return to your homes at once. I speak with a Lord’s Authority!”

Strella saw the man, the lord behind the line, surrounded by a handful of his personal guards.

The crowd didn’t even waver an inch. In fact they grew angrier. Their voices shouted as one. Their rage washed over the guards and the lord, who faltered, then broke, turning and rushing back to the council hall.

The man might’ve been a weak example of the Class, but Strella suspected that wasn’t the entire story.

She felt something in the air. Strengthening one side, while weakening the other.

She looked to roof top on the opposite side of the street.

At the same time that she finally saw a dark silhouette, the crowd finally overflowed the dam.

The angry chants turned into rage-filled cries.

Fear was in the air.

The town guards lowered their spears.

The crowd raised their fists, along with make-shift weapons, clubs, chains and the like.

Desperate orders.

Inarticulate bellows.

The silhouette on the opposite rooftop raised her arms.

Strella drew her shooter. She had read the other person’s thoughts. She had to stop the young woman even if it was already too late for Tyranon.

The loud bang was drowned out by the battle below.