The salt-farmers.

[channe]

Tales of the Battle of Haberdashers' Row are still everywhere -- old news, of course, but with every retelling the details change. The women in line at the Brotherhood's weekly food-distribution point speak of the dead: six. Ten. Twenty young men. In every tavern, every night, the story repeats: people who argue, and who often come to blows over the support of ousted, long-gone, despised Coriolanus Helstone or the support of Altias Bromn, who promised so much but has of yet delivered so little.

Like all chaotic times in Myrken Wood, it was only a matter of time before the city awakes to graffiti: in paint, in blood, in burning oil. Catchphrases. Perfect. Believe. Baie. This new one in black is distinguished by its content and purported author, and appears three places in the market on the busiest day of the week.

It's a promise, and the symbol of the Order of Straka, hastily scrawled, nearly menacing in its casual, handpainted arc.

CHANGE IS COMING.

[channe]

Another hand-painted, black Straka symbol decorates the temporary Meetinghouse. How, on Earth, did it get there? Especially when the Janeiro guards were there all evening?

Perhaps the presence of those very guards explains its haste:

BROMN THE BLOODY
WE COME FOR YOU

[Vanidor]

It was a symbol that was allowed to remain only as long as it took for a squad of Brotherhood Guardsmen to fetch severals bucket of paint, and even then two of those left behind just -happened- to use the time they waited to use that section of wall as a leaning post for their weapons and themselves. In short order, it would seem, this temporary Meetinghouse was getting a new paint job, thanks to the good will of the Brotherhood of Janerio.

It was a message that would not be allowed to be seen for long, especially as that section was the very first to be painted over. Unsurprisingly, upon that next night, extra lanterns and poles would be hung 'round the building to better illuminate the night and drive back the shadows. In addition, though they skulked the alley ways and quiet streets, a squad of scouts had entered the area to better protect the newly painted building. Another had been dispatched into the city, and, taking care to avoid the vigilant patrols of the Constables, they moved like the wraiths of legend, keeping an eye out for more of these newly subversive messages.

Odd, wasn't it, all that effort to keep a building... clean.