"No More Food"

[Malaroth]

It was at the behest of several grocers, butchers, and other persons involved in the food preparation and selling business who had gathered for several evenings in a row. Their shops opened progressively later in the day and they showed fatigue on their faces, worry etched in dark rings beneath their eyes. They had risen their prices as much as the Councilor's edict had allowed but the insult stung in both their pride and their pockets.

Then, one day, the food vendors did not show up at their marketplace stands and stores. Perhaps a few did but as the days lingered on occasionally the other grocers, who had stopped selling, would show up at the stands which had remained open; often accompanied by several large, burly men. In no uncertain terms, the majority of food merchants made it known that not only were most of them not selling, but anyone who did could expect to be bullied into conforming. Not only was there less food available because of the shopkeeper's quiet rebellion, but what food was available was raised to the maximum allowed by recent law so as to maximize profit. Alas, greed was as strong in some as legitimate hunger was becoming in others.

Nevertheless some still chanced remaining open and, even today, some still are. But there is no mistaking the sudden emptiness in the food stands and stores at the marketplace: closed in protest of an official telling them how much to charge. Had not Bromn promised the chance to vote? Perhaps that one breath of freedom was enough to make them consider that they wanted such freedom in other arenas as well - such as how much to charge for their product.

[Vanidor]

Greed had overcome good sense, one could say. So it was that the day after the stalls become empty, a cart bearing the stylized Eagle of the Brotherhood of Janerio had rolled into the centre of the square. It was guarded by a full squad of men from the First. Despite the heat of the day they bore their full suits of armour, glimmering breastplates (for the new armour had yet to be delivered) belted on over heavy grey coats, their heads encased within their open faced helms. They prepared themselves at each corner of the wagon, just as five from the scout corps drew back the heavy leather coverings and started to set out crates of stored foodstuffs.

Each and every crate was marked with the symbology of the Brotherhood, so it was clear that this was the very stores set aside for siege or campaign. As the crates were being set aside, the Sergeant in command of the squad stepped towards the small stand set aside for announcements. A scroll was withdrawn from a leather pouch at his side. The man cleared his throat and then unrolled the scroll.

"By the hand of Aeryn Karolinger, Marshal of the Brotherhood of Janerio, these supplies are to be delivered into the hands of the people of Myrken every other day until shortage is contained. It is to be given freely from this spot in the market from sunrise until the mid of day, or until the stores alloted are fully dispensed. There foodstuffs will be offered for free, one parcel per family. Additional goods can be recieved from the barracks, for a fee, at sunset of every day. That is all."

As the last words were read, the Sergeant would step down from the dias and march back to the cart, which was already starting to draw a crowd...

[Treadwell]

At the time of this food dispersal, Aloisius Treadwell is in his toy shop, peeking out one of the front windows to watch. While he stands there watching, and as he heard earlier complaints against all things Councilor-like, himself included, he can't help but wonder something aloud.

"Do they not know that Councilor Spier and I are trying to prevent bloody *riots*? They could force the costs of food up to hundreds of shillings if they pleased, otherwise, and they'd have nothing more than people ripping each other alive for this! Hmph! I don't hear the *hungry* complaining about our stopping prices from getting much higher, hmph hmph!"

And with that, Treadwell turns and shuffles back into his kitchen in the back of the toy shop. His stores at home were excessively well-stocked, even to the point of being dented only a decent portion by his birthday party, and it's from those stores he keeps his kitchen at the toy shop stocked. So, with these wonders and worries egging him on, Treadwell sits down to enjoy a late snack, trying to remember when the next shipment of food should be coming through.

[jacktim]

Sabrion steps out of his shop/home, and makes his way into the square to receive his parcel of food for Sammariah and himself. He had promised her that he would rest for the day back at the Remendium where she could watch him, but the moment she had turned her back he made his way back home. Now as he hobbled up the path to the cart he must have seemed an awful sight. Pale features, scrawny, he reached out, took the parcel, and hobbled his way back to the shop. He took his rest on his cot, biting into an apple that came from his stores, which too was becoming bare.