>>6142315Speaking of current events, you add as you try and fail to ignore the catfight brewing on the tavern floor next to you, what does she know about the whole Fellick thing?
Ma cocks her head to the side–a shrug, you think. “Well he wasn’t exactly the most well-liked Durher in Crossroads… but <span class="mu-i">dead</span>? Can hardly believe it’s real…”
You take another swig from your drink and smile–yep, STILL good! She liked him, then?
“I didn’t <span class="mu-i">dis</span>like him...” Shrugs the Skog once more. “But his policies didn’t endear him to the public much.”
He was a politician, right?
“More like a doorman,” Explains Ma in an almost teacherly voice, “Want to pass a law? You’d have to go through Fellick… and his platform pretty much amounted to ‘<span class="mu-i">Keep Crossroads Out of It</span>’. You can imagine why that’d rub some people the wrong way.”
But… but <span class="mu-i">neutrality</span>-
“Is all well and good, yea,” Nods the Skog, “But <span class="mu-b">THE FOUR</span> know the game Crossroads is playing… and the question buzzing around folk’s heads is ‘when are they gonna get fed up’?”
Your mind drifts back to the comet… then back to the Guild Chair’s sudden death. Do they have a plan for when… when this kind of thing happens?
“Course they do, but not when it’s so sudden!” Ma scoffs! “Fellick seemed like he was gonna outlive us all…”
Does she think he was… y’know, <span class="mu-i">murdered</span>?
An unnerving silence drapes over the tavern as the word leaves your lips–your voice cracking as a sudden dryness settles in your throat!
“Well it wouldn’t be <span class="mu-i">easy</span>...” The bartendress mutters in an almost reverent tone, “You could say plenty of things about Fellick, but he was a sly sonnovabitch–no one’ll deny that.”
So it’s impossible, you ask, leaning across the bar!
“Not impossible, but damned <span class="mu-i">tricky</span>....” Retorts the Skog with a derisive snort! “But you wouldn’t have much trouble scrounging up volunteers…”
So, you continue as you take another sip from what little remains in your mug, what happens next? Do people, like, vote for the next chairman, or-
“HAH! VOTE!” Ma laughs as she gives the counter another slap, “Not us plebs, mate–it’s gonna be handled internally, an’ all that implies…”
>CONTD. 