The night remained quiet. Only the faint patter of rats filled the street. The only light came from the moon and stars...and a small tavern.
This tavern was where the burdened would go to temporarily find their relief in whiskey and warm food. However, this run down tavern was empty this night.
No one occupied the tavern, yet all lights were on. Glasses of liquor remained motionless and half empty. Chairs still correctly placed, all on their legs and right side up.
The usual candle burned brightly in the window, welcoming all guests. The bartender was not at his usual post. No members of the kitchen stirred or baked. Not even the
manager was in his office playing cards with his friends like he normally did. Oh no. All the city inhabitants from the poor district were at the far off city square.
If one was to listen intently in the direction of the City Square, you would hear the enraged voices of the citizens.
"So you are forcing us to remain in this city where the rich prosper off of poor mens' hard work? I think not! I would rather rot in the Fire Labyrinth than remain here!"
"Do not speak that way or I can arrange that!" A man, flanked by two brawny men, faced the crowd, "I am not a man to be tampered with! Think of it this way: I don't care
what you feel or wish. You are inferior. Creatures that cannot compare. I live an infinite life. I may have human blood, we may share that, but believe me when I say I could
kill you without remorse and you would never even be able to lift a finger against me!"
The man was rather tall and had quite a stomach on him. His smile was corrupted by his cold eyes. He had dark brown hair and a wooden cane that was most likely tipped with a poison dart.
The other man who had spoken against him earlier lowered his head and muttered something.
"Now. If the opposition here has ceased, I wish to travel to my other cities and speak to the other revolting citizens. Good day to you." The man walked off the stage and out of the city gates.
The crowd began to break apart. A few murmurs passed between groups as the citizens from the poor district began to file out and make their way home.
"I can't believe Grausam was cocky enough to show his ugly butt chin around this place...I am pretty sure the only thing that kept us from killing his was those bodyguards and his cane."
"I can. Grausam is beginning to believe he is winning the war. Last thing he wants is his cities to revolt. But the cities are unstable. And he knows that." A man, a little over twenty, said as he walked away from the square.
"He thinks his presence is enough to scare the cities into submission."
"You're probably right. The only thing frightening about his presence is that he is actually paying attention to our city."
"Which in a way, is definitely a good way to whip a city back into the way he wants it."
The older man nodded but said nothing more.
"Nick...How do you think we can get the people outta this prison?"
"I don't know, Alex." Nick said with a sigh, "They are still too afraid to oppose Grausam directly."
"What about an indirect conflict?" Alex suggested.
Alex stood about 6 feet tall with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He had light skin and a reputation of being able to handle himself in a fight without so much as getting scratched. He was about fourteen and was
extraordinarily strange for a child his age.