Dust filled the air in Newly Town's Central Square.
The midday sun was scorching, baking the flagstones until they were searing hot.
A dozen or so people were escorted by the guards onto a temporary stage, with Pick standing at the very front.
His face showed no trace of fear; instead, it shone with the glorious look of a martyr.
He knew full well that he was making a gamble.
'If I win, I'll be the hero who dared to stand up for everyone. From now on, my words will carry weight in Newly Town.'
'If I lose... No, I won't lose!'
In his eyes, this young lord was like a scholar who just holed up in those mountains every day.
He was soft-hearted and easy to persuade, and more importantly, he needed his subjects to do the work.
'There's safety in numbers. As long as I make a big enough scene, he's bound to back down!'
At this thought, he grew bolder. He raised his arm and shouted, spittle flying from his lips.
