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[Doireann]

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A quick glance showed the horror that had come upon the city. Millions in gold exchanging hands, but there were no taxes being paid. Few helped the poor, who came in hope to the large city for a strangers hand to give them guidance. Few noticed the weak or the oppressed, begging for scraps. The few kind hearts, though, were what she noticed the most. A stranger, giving a beggar a gold coin for food. Another, this one a tamer, offering to help an injured animal in need. She saw hope, where there was mostly despair. No one seemed to care fot this great city. There was a reason the mass had disappointed her so terribly. They cried out, selling their wares. “Armor of Fortune, Three million” “Eye of Trav, four hundred k, come on, Eye of Trav.” There were those also looking, and even advertising. “Buying Hat of Magi!” “Through the gate, Scrappers, Crimmies and more!” Surveying the city in it’s bussle of activity, Doireann nodded, a plan forming. She peaked into the shops, all with overpriced products. Yet, there was a charm here that she felt needed to be expressed. An art class, where few entered. A stage for any actor. The library, stuffed with books from end to end. Also, there was more here than many saw. More than anything, leaving the west side, the east side was beyond divine. The prices were reasonable, nothing was crowded, and most importantly, the tavern was perfect for her plan.

She knew this is where she would start. A simple realization, though. The town was poorly neglected by a group who had so much to handle on its plate already. This town needed someone to shake it up; someone to yell and protest where it was. Someone to voice the need for Britain’s freedom.