The salty air wafts cold through down the streets. The breath of the sun has not even touched the rooftops when a crier begins to announce an execution, waking the characters from their deep slumber.
"By decree of Lord Umbrage and the Council of Indignation, the Lady of Huff shall be laid low and at the setting of the sun on this very evening for treason most foul."
The crier begins to repeat himself, as he will do all day when a voice, muffled by the walls of the inn, is heard in the next room. "No. Not if I live, no she will not."
"By decree of Lord Umbrage and the Council of Indignation, the Lady of Huff shall be laid low and at the setting of the sun on this very evening for treason most foul."
The crier begins to repeat himself, as he will do all day when a voice, muffled by the walls of the inn, is heard in the next room. "No. Not if I live, no she will not."
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