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Why, head for a big street, of course! You’re not really even sure how you all decided on that–the three of you just wordlessly leave the alley and make for the last main street you remember! You have a few close calls nearly falling off the docks, sure, but once you get moving it isn’t hard to find a good spot–before long you’re joined by countless other unseen dockworkers, sailors, and vendors who clearly had the same idea!
Shuffling along with the rest of the sweaty, seafood-scented pack, you do your best to stick close to Volka while TT alternates between sticking to your hip and drifting into the crowd. She’s an oddball, that one! It’s only after you bump into a person in front of you that you realize you’ve made it–the distant boom of a prim, authoritative voice from down the road heralding the arrival of someone official!
Muttering a hasty apology, you crane your ear towards the sound of an approaching entourage of metal boots and clanking armor–the chatter in the crowd dying down in almost perfect unison.
Amidst the marchers comes a shrill voice that carries across the crowd like a firework on a moonless night–their words reverberating with unseen energy as they glide along the path carried by an unseen platform!
“<span class="mu-s">WE SPEAK WITH THE AUTHORITY OF THE GUILDS: LISTEN WELL AND KNOW THE TRUTH!</span>”
You steal a glance at TT expecting some silly commentary, but you find the Durher’s eyes wide as saucers and her mouth sealed <span class="mu-i">shut</span>!
“<span class="mu-s">ON THIS DAY, ON THIS MORNING, GUILD CHAIRMAN FELLICK WAS FOUND DEAD.</span>”
The words barely leave the crier’s lips before the crowd erupts like an orchestra tuning their instruments. Dead? The Chairman!? The words exchanged are different, but the message is the same no matter who you eavesdrop on–this is <span class="mu-i">big</span>.
“<span class="mu-s">A SUCCESSOR WILL BE NAMED.</span>” Continues the crier with practiced impartiality, their escort not stopping to take questions, “<span class="mu-s">AN INVESTIGATION IS UNDERWAY. ALL PASSAGE IN AND OUT OF CROSSROADS, BY LAND, SEA, AIR, OR MAGICKS, IS CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.</span>”
The last part earns some ire from the crowd, but even though you aren’t speaking you feel something in the crier’s words… something that compels you to be silent. To listen.
“<span class="mu-s">RETURN TO YOUR BUSINESS. COOPERATE WITH THE BELLCOUNTERS. DEFIANCE SHALL BE PUNISHED.</span>”
Like a fart in the wind, the crier and their entourage disappear down the road in complete silence–the people around you waiting hushed until they can no longer hear the sound of boots hitting cobblestone. The uncomfortable silence lingers for a moment, pressure building up like a shaken soda bottle, but like a lightswitch being flicked the crowd explodes into raucous conversation immediately after!
“So,” Tzah-Tzie begins, her tiny voice straining above the sea of chatter surrounding you, “Long story short: this is <span class="mu-i">bad</span>.”
Yea, you holler back, you figured!
>CONTD.
