“We have to tell the Knights!†The man’s voice was a panicked hiss in the dim tavern, glancing between the door and windows as he spoke, “This is… this is the Fury’s punishment for our greed! We cannot---â€
“ENOUGH.†A voice rings out over the crowd, and a tall  silver haired Elezen dressed in heavy blacksmithing leathers approaches from near the hearth, “...enough Reithardt.†Her voice turns softer, “You’re right of course. We cannot handle this ourselves.â€
“We cannot!†A reedy voice calls out, “The Holy See will take…â€
“WOULD YOU HAVE IT BE YOUR SON NEXT LAFORTE?†The blacksmith roars at him, anger once again clouding her features. “YOUR WIFE? YOUR MOTHER?â€
Her shouting is interrupted by the tavern door slamming open, the chill air of a midsummer’s eve rustling clothes and causing flames to dance. A woman stumbles in, a bundle of cloth in her arms, face and eyes blank, “I… I thought we would be safe.â€
“Fury Preserve us.†One man mutters, moving forward to assist the new arrival inside, “Marsia, we weren’t sure if you’re coming.†The rest of the room exhales almost as one, releasing hands from pitchforks and cleavers, “We almost thought you had…†He pauses, “Where is your husband?â€
Marsia slowly walks forward, and as she enters the light, it is clear that the woman is covered in fresh blood. The sickly metallic stench of it fills the room, and the crowd edges backwards as one. The cloth bundle is placed on the table, and slowly unwrapped to reveal a leg. Most of the leg looks perfectly normal, aside from the blood, however instead of connecting to a body, the thigh ends in a ragged red mass of meat.
The room is silent for a moment, no one sure what to say. Then the woman collapses onto the floor, hugging the bloody leg and weeping.
“I’m sending out the message for Knights and Adventurers tomorrow.†The blacksmith repeats.
This time, no one challenges her.
“ENOUGH.†A voice rings out over the crowd, and a tall  silver haired Elezen dressed in heavy blacksmithing leathers approaches from near the hearth, “...enough Reithardt.†Her voice turns softer, “You’re right of course. We cannot handle this ourselves.â€
“We cannot!†A reedy voice calls out, “The Holy See will take…â€
“WOULD YOU HAVE IT BE YOUR SON NEXT LAFORTE?†The blacksmith roars at him, anger once again clouding her features. “YOUR WIFE? YOUR MOTHER?â€
Her shouting is interrupted by the tavern door slamming open, the chill air of a midsummer’s eve rustling clothes and causing flames to dance. A woman stumbles in, a bundle of cloth in her arms, face and eyes blank, “I… I thought we would be safe.â€
“Fury Preserve us.†One man mutters, moving forward to assist the new arrival inside, “Marsia, we weren’t sure if you’re coming.†The rest of the room exhales almost as one, releasing hands from pitchforks and cleavers, “We almost thought you had…†He pauses, “Where is your husband?â€
Marsia slowly walks forward, and as she enters the light, it is clear that the woman is covered in fresh blood. The sickly metallic stench of it fills the room, and the crowd edges backwards as one. The cloth bundle is placed on the table, and slowly unwrapped to reveal a leg. Most of the leg looks perfectly normal, aside from the blood, however instead of connecting to a body, the thigh ends in a ragged red mass of meat.
The room is silent for a moment, no one sure what to say. Then the woman collapses onto the floor, hugging the bloody leg and weeping.
“I’m sending out the message for Knights and Adventurers tomorrow.†The blacksmith repeats.
This time, no one challenges her.
![[Image: yr2A1Eo.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yr2A1Eo.png)
