(( Thanks to EVERYONE who showed up, and and one gigantic THANK YOU! For everyone from Ravenholdt who came. This ended up being a really awesome event and the rabble is by no means done being roused.))
William looked down on Westfall for what he imagined would be the last time, at least for a while. What he accomplished there only seemed little, a handful of protesters severely outnumbered before the gates was not a concern. Those who came were rewarded, food was given, aid. Positive. But it wasn't enough, not yet. In his mind he struggled to draw the line between reparation and revenge. Ten years of great injustice, audacious calls that these people should "Get off their lazy arses, hunt the forests, build shelters..." These "solutions" he had heard, and he hoped his little group had taken those messages with them. It was like they didn't understand, hundreds of people, a land that is flowing with Murloc tribes, Gnolls, outlaws- and more than anything these new Defias lookalikes. How does a land under the thumb of it's enemies bring itself from the dirt? It must turn to it's kingdom, but what is done?
Nothing is done. Eyes drifting over the patched and still ruined Moonbrook reminded him of this, children hungry, but still playing in it's streets. Men and women, families, all wondering what would come. As always their futures were still uncertain. What does a man see this and crave? Stability. A war is no excuse, not so close to the Capitol, not so close to the eyes of the king- and did he hear, William wondered, his voice?
He heard loud thumps on the roof behind him, but knew the sound well. Patrick Calgril cleared his throat, as he always did, before speaking. Man smoked too much for his own good, a reminder in the scent of tobacco that drifted forward on the still air. "I suppose i ought to say thank you, before we do this." the paladin began, placing his hands on his hips before nervously crossing them over his chest. "I see happy faces down there, signs of help. They are happy just having been part of this illusion of progress you've created. Thank you for that. They deserve to feel like they're achieving something with their work." At this Will turned, regarding his old friend. Red hair bound up in the wild ponytail, maybe the only evidence left that Patrick was a blatantly unprofessional professional. His strong jaw clenched before he continued; "But you killed a man. I hear it was defense, hell, i hear alot of things, but being on the run isn't doing you any good. You need to turn yourself in, answer for Baenridge's death, and for Elly's." Will stood silent a long while, looking him up and down. Patrick knew the look well, had seen it a thousand times. Will had the unsettling habit of reminding a person that he did not look at them for no reason, there was never a move without purpose. When he spoke it nearly startled him. "There will be time to answer for every bit, Calgril. A time will come when no tower will hide me, nor disguise will protect me- and relieved i will be. Do you remember when i was proud to step loud among my enemies? Do you remember when a fighting man was king in his own right? Things were fair, then. Simple. Take what you need." He reminisced, turning away again. He heard Patrick start forward and his head whipped around again, his cold blue eye a clear warning. The paladin had his hands up, retreating a step. "That what you want Will? Want to make a new, dark age for us? Anarchy reigns, become your own faction?" he shot, narrowing his eyes. Everything in Patrick wanted Will to just snap out of it, wanted him to be a golden boy, to put that frightening presence into GOOD. This was the man who had set him free from a life of slavery. How could he be this? A murderer? A knight turned traitor?
Will looked off at the sun as it sank harshly away. "What an idea, Patrick. After all, you didn't hear them, did you? "Hunt these lands", they say to us. "Build shelter". It was a telling thing, you know. Take what you need, just don't bother us. So my policies have changed. Will the crown be aware of the plight of these people? Perhaps never. But i am. The time is come for an extreme solution, so we'll take what we need. I will take it for them. Give them the means to defend themselves, give them the means to live freely. What the crown asks, we will deny. What is a king that has let his people starve in the dust for ten years? But do not answer, Patrick. You've got more of a stake here then i do. It isn't fair to you."
Patrick was silent a long time. "What about Cyndi? You know she's going to suffer when they find you both, and they WILL find you. Malakae already has a hard on for her as your "accomplice". I know you, this is all part of a bigger plan, but for light's sake, Will, there is a better way. Hasn't there been enough death already?"
Will turned and looked at him.
His voice was cold.
"No. Not yet."