Lance took a deep breath to steady herself as she left the tent. The whispers from the growing mob on the other side of the tent were getting progressively louder with every passing second. It wouldn’t be long until they flew into an absolute frenzy… and if she couldn’t stop them, who knew what Hoplite would do?

Lance had little doubt that Hoplite held Michael’s life in higher regard than the fiendwallers that wanted the boy's head… and knowing Hoplite, he’d spare no quarter. Maybe Hoplite would try intimidation tactics but Lance did not know for sure if he would. What if his solution would be to kill one off to scare away the rest of the mob? No, Lance needed to try and get this done herself, without Hoplite’s involvement… Yet if it did come to blows, Lance sincerely hoped that Hoplite would try to hold back from killing any of them. Perhaps it wouldn’t come to that, maybe Hoplite’s sheer overwhelming presence would hold the fiendwallers back… but again Lance didn’t know for sure.

She bit her lip as she thought, seeing a dozen fiendwallers slowly converging toward the crowd on the other side of the tent. Silently she merged with the line passing through the alley, some gasps and stilled footsteps behind her indicating that they had taken note of Lance’s watcher cloak. Lance had told Hoplite that she’d come back to warn him if the crowd did indeed turn into a bloodthirsty mob… but with how loud they were becoming, he’d need to be deaf to not already know their intentions. Now, what could Lance do to quell the mob’s growing fury? The authority of a watcher may not hold sway here outside of the Faewood, but the presence of a watcher was certain to draw attention.

Most everyone in camp must have known that she was a watcher by now. Lance had been the subject of awed gasps and hushed whispers whenever she had gone to draw water or eat in the mess tent. Would her presence be enough to quell the anger of the crowd, at least for an instant? Perhaps, but their fury would reignite quickly once they were reminded of why they were crowded around the medical tent.

Mayor Gali might be able to put a stop to this, but Lance had no idea where the hefty fellow was. Gali seemed to be in all places at once, always flitting this way and that like an obese hummingbird. Lance might be able to find him if she asked around, but by time she found him, it’d likely be too late-

“Bring out the Starfallen!” A man shouted as Lance passed out of the alley and into the field once more.

The crowd had grown to over a hundred men and women, with even a few young children here and there looking confused at the tumult. Would they really string up Michael in front of the little ones? Knowing fiendwallers and their origins… they likely would. Grayshane was a city of vipers and murderers… who could expect their exiles to be any better behaved?

“Aye bring him out to meet our justice!” Another man shouted, a vein popping on his bald head.

Shouts of agreement echoed across the the camp, and Lance flinched as her heightened hearing picked up on an silent *click* within the tent. Her time spent with Hoplite had familiarized her with that sound… Hoplite had switched the safety for one of his guns off, likely the Fortis if her guess was right. No one else but an elf would have been able to pick out the noise through the shouts of the crowd. Even if they had heard, they may not have thought anything of it… Not unless they knew about the hellfire that would follow.

“He do be the scum of Ahkoolis, toss him over the wall!” A woman shouted “Let him be feast for the fiends!”

More shouts, bloodthirsty and laced with spittle. The crowd was igniting, it was now, or never.

“Stop!” Lance shouted, her voice only just loud enough to catch some attention.

Only a few turned their heads to take in her presence, but that turned out to be just enough. Faces went white with terror, brows knit with consideration, and a few even squared their shoulders, looking ready to charge her if she dared interfere with their ‘justice’. Lance cleared her throat when she realized all those eyes were on her… She was supposed to go unseen… all this attention made her feel terribly nervous.

Lance needed to steel herself; if she let these fiendwallers see her wilt now, she’d not be able to de-escalate the mob.

“What is it that you hope to accomplish?” Lance asked, her eyes narrowing “The boy did not do this thing on purpose.”

“How do it be that you know, madam watcher?” A woman asked from the crowd “What if he do be an agent of Kazon, sent to bring down our wall and doom us all?”

“Aye!” A man shouted “Kazon did send the star with its demons within to bring ruin to us!”

Lance grit her teeth as she bit back “The Fiendlord would not send a human to do this, I assure you that the boy does not bear the Spiral!”

Having seen Michael stark naked had confirmed that, but she doubted that her word would be enough for the fiendwallers. Lance wasn’t even sure that they’d stop if they knew, the lack of a Spiral upon his flesh didn’t mean that Michael was any less at fault, at least not from their perspective. This wasn’t going where she had hoped it would, telling the fiendwallers that it had been an accident was a foolish thing to do… but she was not adept at quelling mobs. What would Muro do in her place? He certainly wouldn’t appeal to their humanity… likely he would just threaten them in some way, but not directly…

Wait, that was it!

“Best string him up anyway!” Another man shouted “The dead can rest easier knowing that at least one of their killers do be on the way to the Pits of Ankoriss!”

Lance crossed her arms, gesturing with her head toward the tent “Then go in there… tell the Hero of the Fiendwall that you intend to execute his friend… I am sure that he will just sit by and allow it.” Lance smirked, shaking her head “ And if he doesn’t let you string up the boy… Ah” She continued, giving a dismissive wave “I’m sure that you all can overpower him.”

They all froze then, the crowd going dead silent as they stared wide-eyed at Lance before turning to goggle at the tent. It seemed that, in their rancor, they had forgotten just who else was in the tent with Michael. They all knew that Hoplite, their hero, was all but attached to the hip with Michael… and they also now knew just what Hoplite was capable of. No one in this crowd could be foolhardy enough to honestly believe that they had a chance to overpower Hoplite, and that was what Lance was banking on.

And thank the Pillars, it seemed to be working perfectly. Angered shouts quickly turned to hushed whispers as the fiendwallers considered their options.

“I uh-” A large man stammered, backing out of the crowd “I do remember that I needed to be doing my chores.” He finished just before turning his back and sprinting away from the medical tent like a man being chased by wolves.

This was soon followed by a veritable wave of excuses, the most common one she caught being something about ‘laundry’. The crowd scattered like a horde of bugs beneath a lifted rock, scurrying to the nearest crevices in order to avoid the light. Lance let out a sigh of relief as the last fiendwaller left her sight. Now it was just Lance, all alone in the field next to the medical tent.

Almost alone.

“They do be angry.” Gali’s voice said from behind her “I heard the tail-end of that, thought it was strange that they did be gathering here.”

Lance turned to see the hefty man, his eyes darkened with heavy bags. When was the last time Gali had slept? Or even the last time he’d taken off his armor? The heavy plate-mail was still spattered with some of the same bloodstains she had seen upon first meeting him. It seemed that Gali was still being overworked, even with the eradication of the fiends outside the wall.

“It would be best if you folk left with the Starfallen, I no want him here either and cannot promise him succor.” Gali told her, pinching the bridge of his nose as he fully came out of the alley “Accident or no, it do be hard to look upon his face and not feel angered. I did have many friends that lived in that part of the wall; friends that did come here with me from Grayshane when I was but a lad.”

“I am sorry for your loss.” Lance told him sincerely “We’ll leave as soon as we are able.”

Gali nodded “Aye, that would be best. I do wish to speak with Ser Hoplite first, however, I wish to thank him again for his service to our people.” He continued, fingering a small pouch tied to his waist “I have something I do wish to give to him.”

Lance stared at the small bag, briefly wondering what could be within before saying “Let’s get in there then.”