| It all started out so well...
A few vagabonds were thrown out of town, the local harlot’s association
held a rally against sky-rocketing health insurance, and the butcher’s
guild had a quip about magically altered cows making the process of skinning
and gutting much more dangerous than before. In the afternoon things became
a lot more interesting.
The Constable came in complaining about Attendants abusing his department’s
resources; then some simple-minded bandit was brought in complaining about
wrongful imprisonment (the Burgher had a good laugh at that!); later there
was a gathering of shop owners complaining about savage animals running
wild in the street – the fact that the animals were supposedly purple and
magenta made the Burgher believe the shopkeeps had been to the tavern before
coming to his office; and then a certain Attendant came in complaining
that his ‘business’ was being interfered with by another Attendant! This
was highly irregular and completely against the rules. Names were taken,
addresses were filed and documents were stamped. The bigwigs up in the
tower were going to hear about this one! The Burgher was not the Master
of the City, he was only the Master of the Complaint's Bureau, yet in its
own perverse way the Bureau held an importance all its own.
***
Master Rift made his way back to his home where his ‘guests’ were waiting.
Half way there, however, he realized he had made a big blunder. In establishing
his complaint he mentioned the place of origin of the Amazon and this could
very well pique the interest of certain parties within the Black Market
Cult. He would need to leave Walants sooner than expected.
***
Far from the bounds of the shadow-city, within the Great Kingdom
itself, a regal girl lay weeping as a handsome youth consoled her, “Do
not cry fair Lady. Yes, your brother shall not be coming back, but his
name will live on…”
***
Somewhere out in the Borderlands three Amazon rangers lay huddled.
“It can’t be!” said one to the others. “But it is Sheila, for I saw it
with mine own two eyes,” replied the second. “The Commander is alive, within
vile Walants, and she is with child!!!”
***
Inside a house which lay within that city’s walls a certain hero
stood pondering. ~~Now I have agreed to stay with Astra, and I must not
allow the legal scoundrel to keep his hands on the magical stone. Yet what
am I to do, and what can Astra be thinking!??! She is cooperating with
that… that...that lawyer! And earlier she attempted to join the band of
brigands!?!! Has she no honor? Have I so seriously misjudged her?~~
***
Spread within four cells of the prison quarters squatted the captured
Paine Gang – 8 of the 10 at any rate. Separated into groups of two so as
not to converse and ‘get their story straight’ they sat in utter confusion.
One moment they were drinking it up and the next they were hauled into
jail.
***
Hiding under the local brewery in a specially built ‘shelter’
lay a tired and shocked Master Notch. He had known that dwarves were respected
bodyguards, yet he had never had the misfortune to witness the reason why…
until today. He knew his only protection would be the Cult, and he also
knew that he had to find himself a dwarf as well, and quick.
***
The Burgher, meanwhile, sat upon his cushy chair within his colorless
office; he was smoking his pipe and smiling – the world was dirt, the world
was crud, the world was refuse; and all the world’s crap, one way or another,
made its way to him.
-
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