[COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Of bloody course they'd freak out."[/B][/COLOR] grumbled Fergus as he watched folks scramble around. No one really liked seeing him or others in his profession unless they were the claimant. Still, he had a job to do. Sometimes it wasn't pleasant. Sometimes it wasn't enjoyable. But the unfortunate fact was that people like him were necessary. If not for laws, what would the Blessed Isle be but a massive collection of nomads and bandits? Plus the folks he served such writs to USUALLY did something to deserve it. Granted, that wasn't the case this time.

As he neared the entryway to the makeshift church, the Mnemon lawyer heard [B]"... oor. Right now!"[/B] and thought to himself [COLOR=FF8C00][I]"Great. Now they are going to barricade the door. This is going to be faaaaantastic."[/I][/COLOR] And so he knocked on the door, expecting things to get complicated very quickly. Such was usually the case. Whether it was a writ to pay for something, a seizure of property, request to vacate, etc... folks just did not like being given bad news and would often do crazy things to avoid it. That didn't deter Fergus, though. He wasn't going anywhere. 

Much to his surprise, the door not only was NOT barricaded; but the monk who led the congregation answered the knock. [COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Much appreciated, my Immaculate friend. I have to admit I'm not really used to warm welcomes. Comes with the trade, you know. Most folks are not fond of bloodsucking lawyer types like myself."[/B][/COLOR] the statement was followed by a hearty chuckle. 

The duo was greeted by a girl who was dressed somewhat nicely. She spoke of a "gig" before turning her attention to Fergus and asking if the monk was being troubled by his presence. Her tone was firm and not exactly polite, but verbal confrontations were definitely preferable to physical ones. Uppn taking a small piece of paper from his shirt pocket, he handed it to the girl. What was it? Simple. It was a business card, of sorts. His information on one side, and House Mnemon credentials on the other.

[COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Fergus Mac Teague, Imperial barrister for House Mnemon. I do sincerely wish I WASN'T here to trouble our monk friend here."[/B][/COLOR] he tilted his head in Snow's direction as he made mention of him, then turned to face the man directly. [COLOR=FF8C00][B]"Unfortunately, that's not the case today. I've a writ from the noble courts demanding you vacate within the day."[/B][/COLOR] even though he was just doing his job, a blatant look of displeasure had crept onto Fergus' face. It was clear he was not enjoying this delivery.

A sigh, a look around, and another handful of trail mix. 

[COLOR=FF8C00][B]"I'm duty-bound to enforce this, and I won't be leaving until it is complied with. That said... there's nothing saying I can't help. Surely an extra pair of hands would be useful."[/B][/COLOR] While it wasn't much, helping them move things out was literally the only thing he could do to make the news less hard to bear. He couldn't just peave these people to do all the work themselves. After all, the guardsmen nearby sure as hell wouldn't help out. They were too busy watching nothing.

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Meanwhile, the [url=https://i.pinimg.com/236x/19/d9/3a/19d93accef29cb01789168873a57131f.jpg?b=t]woman[/url] who had singlehandedly routed a Lintha raid on the coast was standing on a hillside overlooking the Imperial Ruins. In her hand, a vicious blade crafted from blackened and bloodthirsty Soulsteel. Behind her, a force of nearly ten thousand undead warriors and hungry ghosts... all bent on destroying whatever they were ordered to attack. In their sights: The Imperial Ruins. It would not be long before they would burst forth from the forests that surrounded the makeshift city and reduced it to a smoldering graveyard. All at the behest of their overlord, the [url=https://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/thirdexalt/images/6/6b/Mask_of_Winters.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20141008142550]Mask of Winters[/url].

Soon, the Blessed Isle would fall before his mighty army and righteous cause. No fey would take Winters’ prize from him. He had schemed for too long to let the rest of the world fall to the forces of chaos. In destroying it, he would not only preserve it and rule over it for himself… but also save it, in a twisted sense. The Wyld could not consume shadowlands, as they were directly connected to the Underworld. Creation had a simple choice to make. Either it would live on under his rule… or perish altogether. It mattered not if the people understood that or if they fought against him. His goal was as noble as it was selfish. The Imperial Ruins would be the staging area for his grand assault and creation of the largest shadowland in history... and no one would stop him now.