For Dahlia, free time during daylight hours was a luxury. She rarely had it and whenever she did find herself at leisure she would be so surprised by the lack of anything to do that she would go about the house checking that she hadn’t missed anything. Even now as she made her way through the Soot District, her mind was back at her master’s home wondering if she had, in fact, dusted all the rooms as she was meant to. It was because of this fretting and desire to find more work that Cook had forced her out of the house and given her directions to her favourite bar, some workers’ drinking hole called “The Clockwork Stag”. The older woman thought it would be much healthier if Dahlia attempted to socialise with people that did not include herself and the other servants. Dahlia had quietly replied that she often talked to Mr Aquin but it was established that any conversation between her and their master was hardly on an equal level and it was so that she found herself being led firmly out of the house and told not to return until supper was to be served.

By the time she had reached “The Clockwork Stag”, Dahlia felt she had had enough of ‘socialising’ as she had bumped into nearly every person who had crossed her path. Of course, nobody stopped to apologise and they continued on their ways ignoring her great apologies and deeply bowed head. Her manners were out of place and her frayed nerves left her wanting to go back to her room. But Cook had ordered her and so Dahlia went. She paused in the doorway of the Stag, her eyes sweeping over the room and taking it in. It had a warm and inviting feel and although the furniture was horribly mismatched in the most dreadful of fashions, she crept forwards towards the bar. Her hand was already in her coat pocket and she was going over what she planned to say as to make the ordering of food and drink as quick as possible. Hopefully, she could avoid holding any conversations and return home to tell Cook that people are simply not as talkative as they used to be.

Jane was busy and tired as usual. It had been almost a week since she found her position at the Stag, and she thoroughly enjoyed working there. Sure, the hours were terrible, she was always tired and she never had any time to herself until she could trudge upstairs to her tiny room and sleep. There was always more and more to do. She lived in the place she worked, her job was her life. Jane had to keep reminding herself some very important things to stop her from going crazy with sleep deprivation. She was in Vienda and work was scarce. She had to be grateful for the job she had, even if it was tough.

Jane walked amongst the tables of the Stag, the Hamis sun setting over Vienda. It was late afternoon, and Jane would expect the day to end late tonight. Jane could tell by the atmosphere that the factory workers planned on having a big night of drinking - which often meant a big night of food. It was going to be a long day for Jane. She greeted a couple of men at a table and place their meals before them, smiling as she greeted the customers. Jane was already exhausted, but she sucked it up and took on a brave face - smiles all around. She considered having a drink to help with the tiredness and the pain in her legs from standing for so long, but it would seem unprofessional. The idea sounded great in her head. She opted for a cup of coffee instead.

When Jane looked in the cupboards, she found no coffee. She sighed deeply, annoyed, and poured herself an ale from the keg being stored in the kitchen. It was not the best Jane had ever tasted - nothing ever was in Vienda - but she'd get over it. It was good ale, comforting. Unprofessional, but comforting. Ale was ale, food was food and a job was a job. Nothing more to be expected. Jane was trying her best to adapt to Vienda life - this included having no expectations. It wasn't as easy as it seemed, but she didn't care. She had to keep everything in perspective, that all she was doing right now, was for her family back home. The home she already missed too much.

Half a mug of ale sat on the bench in the kitchen while Jane walked back out to the bar. For a seventeen year old, she could handle alcohol quite well - she didn't show any signs of drunkenness to the customers. She looked around and saw that none of the customers needed her attention. Gannon was no where to be seen - probably out with the kenser, Coby - and Vicka was somewhere, also no where to be seen. Jane was alone in the Stag, the only employee around. Great! Clocks, I hope a fight doesn't break out or something. Suddenly she noticed someone sitting at the bar, just waiting - Jane almost didn't see her. A new customer, she wasn't here before. A simple yellow haired woman, a couple of years older than Jane, sitting timidly at the bar. She smiled, Jane was just like her only a week ago, scared and nervous, but putting on a brave face to make herself seem tougher than she was. Jane knew the charade all too well

"Afternoon. What can I get you?" she said, approaching the woman rather tiredly, wiping her hands on a dish cloth. She smiled, her own new charade showing through.

A lot of the customers in the Stag were factory workers, she could tell by there sooty clothes and rough appearances. One man wore a coat of dark stains and Dahlia contemplated whether she should tell him that with a good deal of white vinegar and baking soda, his coat might look cleaner. But she susposed that it would only get filthier in the factory. That was human life though, working amongst the dirt galdori don't want to touch. Of course, she wasn't been ungrateful. She was glad for her work (and money) and a little soot didn't hurt.

A girl, younger than herself, moved about the room delivering meals to the customers. From this, Dahlia took her to be a waitress and watched her with some interest. She herself served Mr Aquin and his guests but this waitress could smile freely at the customers and talk to them unlike her. Sometimes Dahlia wanted to talk to Mr Aquin's guests, if only to compliment their clothes or praise their achievements. The waitress seemed to have noticed Dahlia staring and she quickly looked away, pretending to be looking at the drinks behind the bar. It was so rude to stare and she mentally slapped herself for it. If Cook had caught her, she would have been punished for sure. Her pretend preoccupation didn't work as she could see the waitress approaching her out of the corner of her eye.



Dahlia turned to the girl with a look almost like that of a dog with it's ears pricked and head high, alert and listening. A dog was a very good comparison for Dahlia Simmons. The waitress could probably toss the dish cloth and tell her to "Fetch" and she would do so with a cheerful smile.

She greeted her server with such a smile, drawing her coins from her pocket. "Good afternoon, miss. I'm not sure how much things cost here but I have some money and I think it will be enough". To prove this, she placed the coins on the bar and spread them out so they could be counted. Dahlia wasn't paid a lot and most of her wages were being put aside for her dress. Buying food for herself was a treat and a reluctant one at that. "But I was wondering if I could have something to eat, if that's alright with the cook," she asked, looking back up at the girl. "I know it's late for lunch and a bit early for supper but I thought, maybe, I could have something sweet? And hot too! Like...like...rice pudding or maybe a crumble with fresh cream or even a sponge sort of pudding would be alright too". But Dahlia saw the tiredness in the waitress' face and realised how childish and selfish she was being. Places in the Soot District, especially bars, probably didn't sell desserts and not pretty things like the crumbles Cook made for their master. She didn't want to trouble the poor waitress. It was one of Dahlia's least favourite things approaching Cook and telling her Mr Aquin wanted slices and scones for, say, his mother who would be arriving in under an hour. "Anything would be fine!" Dahlia added quickly," I really don't mind so long as it's warm. It's really quite cold outside...."

Smiling, Jane was a tad surprised at the request of the young woman. Though the woman seemed a few good years older than Jane, she acted just as innocent, just as childish. She obviously hadn't seen much of Vienda or didn't know the roughness of the Soot District. Something that Jane already knew after only a week of living in Vienda. She already had the heavy sent of smoke and soot stuck in her nose. This woman was neat, tidy, not dirty, and she spoke with a well refined voice. She wasn't a golly, but she certainty wasn't as rough as some of the humans that came into the Stag. It was a puzzle to work out what this woman actually did.

"Getting you something to eat is fine. I won't mind." Jane smiled at the woman, glancing at the coin on the bar. It was enough for a decent hot meal and a drink in the Stag. A hard drink too. Jane laughed at the requests of the woman - such elaborate meals! Fresh cream! Jane laughed anew. A crumble, or a scone was something that was foreign to Jane. She had made them back home. But it had been years. She remembered the recipes, but never had the ingredients now days. And if they weren't available back home, they certainly weren't available here.
"I'll see what I can do. I warn you though, I hadn't planned for a request for sweets. It'll take me a while to prepare something. It always takes longer for desserts."

Looking at the coins again and stopped just before she made her way into the kitchen. Jane asked the woman one more question, her head gesturing to the coins on the bar. "Would you like ale while you're waiting? You've get enough there for both a drink and some food."

It was silly. She should just go back home and forget about this whole stupid thing. The waitress was laughing at her. Why had she let Cook subject her to this when she could be in her room furnishing her still-life picture of her vase? That would have been far more productive than being laughed at. Dahlia blushed heavily and lowered her head again, busying herself with removing her coat as to avoid meeting the waitress' gaze. She folded it neatly over the back of a chair, biting her lower lip.

"I'm really sorry for troubling you," she told her, head still turned away. "I really don't mind what you make. It doesn't have to be sweet at all. I just thought....some places sell toffee puddings. There's these little carts in the markets, do you know them?" Dahlia a deep breath to calm herself, realising she was rambling. She smiled nervously at the waitress. She wasn't really helping herself, in fact, she was probably making more of a mockery of herself.

She was relieved when the waitress finally left her and sat, toying with the coins on the bar. She was basically paying to be laughed at. Cook was well-meaning enough but Dahlia wanted to be back at home with Millie and Mr Aquin where she belonged. However, it seemed the girl had another question for her. "Ale?" she echoed," Oh...I suspose so. But not too much please."

Jane smiled. She was just toying with the woman's statements, not making fun of her as she seemed to think. The way the woman lowered her gaze made Jane a little guilty for laughing at the woman. She smiled at her apologetically.

"I'm afraid I don't," she replied to the woman's question. "I haven't been in the city for very long. But, I'd be happy to make you something. No one needs me, as far as I can tell, and honestly, I don't mind." And she smiled, she didn't mind the conversation. It was good to be able to talk to someone relatively her age who wouldn't put her down for her ignorance of the city or some other thing that made Jane different. She welcomed the possibility of conversation with open arms.

She poured an ale for the woman in an old mug, placed it on the bar and swiped the coins off, leaving the change behind. She counted the coins and put them in the jar behind the bar.

Jane yawned as she walked into the kitchen and looked for ingredients. In the cupboard, she found some apples, spices and some left over bread. Shoving a pile of carrots aside, she found an old jar of honey. She opened it, and smelt it - it was still good. Jane considered the ingredients. She took out a few apples and cut them up. Placing them on the tray, she drizzled honey over the apples and sprinkled some cinnamon over the top. She placed the apples in the oven.

It took about twenty minutes. When Jane took the apples out of the oven, the smell was intoxicating. She took the soft, sweet apples off the tray and into a bowl, with a piece of bread. She placed the bowl and a spoon on a tray. She walked out to the bar and placed the bowl in front of the woman. It was a sad, sorry excuse for a dessert, but it was sweet, and warm. So it would suffice. It probably wouldn't taste too bad.

"Here you go! Dig in..."

Jane placed the tray behind the bar and lent on it on her elbows. She was lacking customers and conversation. She might as well strike up a conversation with this woman.

"So, what brings you to the Stag? You don't look you're the regular pub goer type." It was probably a bit blunt, but Jane was really tired.

Dahlia had noticed that the waitress' accent was not one commonly found in Vienda but more of the surrounding lands.  She couldn't help but wonder why the girl had come all the way to Vienda to work in the Soot District and not see the great markets! "You have to see them," she told her. "Uptown is the place to see if your new here. I'm sure it's nice here but if you want to see Vienda, you have to look around".
The Soot District and the Dives weren't the best side of Vienda. The streets here were filled with crime and filth. Uptown wasn't. Uptown was a respectful and cultured place to live. It was one of the many reasons why Dahlia loved working there.

She thanked the waitress as a mug was placed in front of her with her change. She picked up the coins and hid them away in her coat pocket. The coat was then placed across her lap as to prevent anyone from taking it. Hesitantly, she took the mug in both hands and sniffed it's contents. It smelt alright. She normally didn't drink alcohol of any kind. Dahlia sipped the ale, licking her lips. The ale here wasn't bad but she didn't want to drink it too quickly in fear of getting drunk. She lowered it back onto the bartop and spent her time watching the other customers.

The smell of cooked apple and cinnamon turned Dahlia's head towards the kitchen. She smiled excitedly and craned her neck to see what dish the waitress had brought her. It was indeed apple, cooked in what looked like a coating of honey. "It smells lovely!" Dahlia announced,"And oh! Look at this". She picked up the spoon from the tray laid in front of her and took a small spoonful of the dessert. The sugars in the honey had caramilised slightly and she happily licked strands of honey from the back of the spoon. It was a humble dish but it was sweet and warm, just as she had asked for.
 


"Me?" Dahlia blinked at the girl. She was sure she looked like everyone else, only cleaner. Her clothes were faded though and darned in places. Surely she looked like a 'pub goer'. Maybe not a regular one. "Oh...well, I work in Uptown and it's all day so I don't get out a lot," Dahlia told her. She took another spoonful of the apple. "I'm a housemaid see. Well, a chambermaid and a parlormaid too. That's my job," she explained. She frowned and, as an afterthought, added that her name was Dahlia. Exchanging names was always useful when talking and making friends. 

Where ever Vicka had been, she left it for the bar wearing her coat and carrying her bag of medicines. Vicka had a scarf tied around her hair. She was grim-faced, her brow folded in a sharp V. She peeked into the bar, searching for Jane. Damn! She was with a customer, a more upscale sort of gal than she normally saw gracing a Stag clay mug. Oh well, it was not going to take long. She entered properly, ducking under the bar and standing in front of it.

"Jane," she said, as quietly as she could. Vicka's voice was serious and a little rushed. "Jane, love, I just got a message from my sister-in-law, her littluns are taken ill with something, she thinks it's bad. Can you take over for me for a while? Tell Mr. Oranos that it's family business, that carries with him. I'll be back as soon as I can break away."

"Ah! A housemaid. You look like a maid, if you don't mind me saying. What, for some rich human family? You must be lucky to get a job then, rich humans who need housemaids come few and far between as far as I can tell." Jane laughed a little to herself. Anybody who was rich and wasn't a golly was an oddity. There weren't many well off humans or wicks, any were either born into that family or extremely lucky.

The woman introduced herself as Dahlia. A nice enough name for a nice enough woman. Well, so far. Jane smiled as the woman ate her humble dessert with such enthusiasm. It was always satisfying when Jane could get very little ingredients and make something delicious, and appreciated. The woman certainly looked appreciative. Jane lent on her elbows, while keeping her eye out for any customers that needed her. That's when Jane saw Vicka.



Her eyebrows creased at the news. An ill relative? That's not good.
"Oh! That's... that's bad news Vicka. Sure, I'll take over for a while. You just see to it that the little one gets better. I'll deal with Gannon. Just make sure she gets better. I'd hate to hear anymore bad news!" Jane looked at Vicka was her spot on the bar. It was always concerning when a family member was sick, even if it was a colleagues family member. She felt for Vicka.

"Oh, and yes. My name's Jane." She said, addressing the woman, holding her hand out for a handshake.

Dahlia was set to reply to the girl's question after she had swallowed her mouthful when a field brushed against her. The waitress had struck a hushed conversation with a witch who didn't look very happy. Dahlia frowned and continued eating her dessert, refraining from earsdropping. It wouldn't be her fault though. Servants like her weren't allowed to have conversations in front of their masters or their guests and Dahlia wondered if a similar rule applied to waitresses and their customers. It would be courteous but everything about pubs was informal. Plus, the tone of the witch's voice indicated she was distressed. Dahlia kept her gaze down and licked some honey from her thumb.

Working for a rich human, really? Of course they were few and far between. It took a clever businessman to earn enough money to pay his taxes and rent and still have enough money to pay for house servants! Dahlia didn't even think she could work as a servant for her own kind even if they did have the money. She didn't expect respect from Mr. Aquin but from a human, she would expect some sort if equality that would could not come if she was their servant. How wrong the waitress was.

 

Dahlia lifted her head and dropped her spoon into the bowl and weakly gave Jane's hand a shake. "Oh, Jane?" she echoed. She lowered her hands into her lap, frowning in concern. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, I hope everything is alright....?" 

She picked up her spoon and began dividing the apple into pieces as she spoke. She couldn't let Jane remain mistaken on her profession. Being new to Vienda, she probably wasn't away that the majority of housemaids worked for galdori. "And no, Miss Jane. My Master isn't a human. He's a galdori artist and a very good one at that, if I may say". She smiled warmly, blushing at her own praise of Mr. Aquin.    

"Thank you, love!" Vicka said a little louder, breathing out a sigh of relief. Before Jane returned to the customer, a slick human woman of some class, Vicka leaned in and kissed her cheek in gratitude. "Ted's in the back, napping. Rouse him if you need help."

Vicka glanced at the woman briefly as she passed, ducking under the bar. She wondered if she was being disapproved of, but decided that she did not care all that much. She was a witch who used her gifts, all of them; people disapproved of her and her profession all the time. From the sound of it, her niece and nephew had something startlingly familiar, the same hacking cough that destroyed the denizens of the Soot District yearly. Jane's confidence was touching but Vicka did not share it. She feared that there would be new little ghosts in the phasmonia, very soon. Then Vicka stepped out of the Stag, and turned the corner, out of Jane's sight.

"Will do." Jane accepted the kiss and smiled. She prayed to all the gods that could hear that Vickas niece or nephew would be okay. It was already a bad times in Vienda and if there was any more tragedy, Jane would just give up. She hadn't heard from her family at all, even though she sent them a letter just under a week ago. Jane told herself not to worry, as the post was bound to be slow these days. Jane watched as Vicka left, praying for hope.



She turned back to Dahlia. "Yep, that's my name. Plain old Jane... Ha! Even though I'm not that old... " Startled at Dahlias last comment, Jane let some of her country accent and mannerisms through. She had been doing that a lot lately. Letting herself become a bit more familiar with the situations she was encountering, becoming more and more at home. "Oh! Of course not. You're not interruptin' no body - don't be silly." She smiled, friendly.



A galdori? Gods, I hope they're good to her. Pack of bastards, one and all.

"Golly eh? A pack of lying dictators if I do say so myself. So, he's good to you then? I would hate to see one of us working for them and getting treated horribly."
Jane couldn't help the tone of contempt in her voice at the mention of the galdori. For what they have done to her family, Jane couldn't forgive. She hated them with every bone in her body. It was because of them that her father was sick, and, it was because of them that Kaid had to stay home and look after Father. And to some extent, it was because of them that Jane never met her mother. The galdori had a lot to answer for, and not just in Janes family. The whole of Vienda was plagued with the thieving liars that are the galdori.

Well, in Janes mind.

"I have a right mind to go and beat the crap out of them all." She lent back and crossed her arms. Her eyes narrowed and her face turned to a scowl. Jane sensed a tad bit of hero worship in Dahlias voice. She didn't like it.

Dahlia's head shot up and she fixed her blue eyes on Jane's face in horror. A pack of lying dictators?!. The hatred in the girl's voice shocked her. What had the galdori done to this country girl that caused to think so....so...horribly of them? Of course she knew that some galdori behaved despicably but not all. Not her master. Mr. Aquin was a good man. He wasn't like the galdori who beat their servants and he had no hand in the laws that controlled the wicks or those poor passives she heard about. Jane couldn't cast all the galdori down because the cruelty of a few.

"Mr. Aquin is a good man," she told Jane, lowering her hands back into her lap. She clenched at her coat, fidgetting with it. "I have worked for him and his mother, Lady Elanore, since I was thirteen years old and they have been nothing but kind to me...and....and they're not dictators at all!" Dahlia shook her head unhappily, quite distressed by the idea that the Aquin family could be such. "I am a servant, an employee of Mr. Aquin, and how he can treat me however he choses, just like your employer can," she added quietly.

Dahlia took up her spoon again, stabbing at her dessert. "Miss Jane, I don't know what they've done to you but there is no need to harbour such awful feelings for them. Just as many humans are cruel, so are the galdori. I am not surprised they look poorly on humans. Have you seen the Soot District?"

Jane was equally surprised at Dahlias defensive tones. She raised her eyebrows and smirked a little. How could she know what it was like? She'd been working for some rich golly family since she was a girl. She didn't know what it was like for Jane. A poor farmers daughter trying to make a living in the Soot District. How could she judge her?

"If my employer treated me like shit, like the scum that most galdori treat others, I'd be out of that place faster than you can say 'I quit'. No matter what. And as far as I can see, galdori treat everyone like shit.You may be blind to it but I'm not turning away from it."

Jane lent her face towards Dahlias. "And of course I've seen the Soot District. I clocking live here. The only reason it's like this is because of those clocking gladori that you seem to worship." Jane pointed her finger out in a general direction out of the door. She was furious. How can Dahlia? How dare she? How dare she stick up for that scum that practically ruined Janes childhood?
"Have you ever seen the farmlands? That's where I'm from Dahlia. The Anaxi farmlands."

Janes face was that of fury. She crossed her arms, and look down at Dahlia with utter contempt.
"Because of your galdori heroes, my life has been nothing but hard. My father - gods bless him - is dying. Starving. We all are. Your precious golly heroes have done nothing to me but taken away my food, my family and my childhood. The past week that I've been here, has been the best I have ever lived. I have never felt happier. And you can see how bad shape the Soot District is in. Try that ten fold. The gollies tax us and the rent is so high that we can't afford to eat! I... I can't tell you how many times I went to bed hungry back home."
Jane looked away. She thought she was going to cry. She blinked a few times while she tried to hold her composure.

After briefly serving a customer some ale, she came back to Dahlia and stared straight into that traitorous face that had insulted her so.
"That's why I hate those dictators that you have so much love for. So think twice when you tell others that the galdori are good people."

Dahlia shrunk back with a whimper. This was why she didn't like voicing her opinion. She got attacked for it. "Miss Jane," she pleaded," I am not blind to the treatment some of us suffer at the hands of some galdori. I say some, Miss Jane, because like humans they have different temparents and are raised to see the world differently". Dahlia swept a hand from herself to the younger woman. "Just look at how we view galdori".

As Jane lent forward, Dahlia shuffled further back on her stool until it was impossible for her to move any further without risking falling off. "The galdori don't tell them to comitt crimes," she said quietly. Unfortunately, her normal speaking volume was already quiet and this came out as a rather pathetic murmur. It was true though. The galdori were not responsible for the crime rate. Dahlia was not born in Uptown and neither were her parents yet they all had respectable professions. In fact, it was only because of the Aquin family that she even had a job.

The girl's continued onslaught brought tears to Dahlia's eyes and she pulled her coat up over her chin as if to shield herself from her harsh words. She was sorry that Jane's life was so hard and even more sorry that her father was dying but there wasn't anything Dahlia could do about that. More so, she didn't worship all galdori. The only galdor she was even close to worshipping was Lady Elanore Aquin and she knew she must have faults for all people do. She accepted even that the taxes and rents were high but if Jane's family was struggling to make ends meet, surely they could approach their landlord or their estate manager to arrange a way of paying the rent. If they couldn't come to agreement, surely Jane's family could have acquired a different and cheaper farm. Dahlia couldn't do anything about the taxes though. They were an issue for all but Jane couldn't blame all galdori for them. It was the goverment who was to be held accountable not artists like her master Bain Aquin. She was thankful when the waitress had turned away and left, leaving Dahlia in uncomfortable silence. She didn't touch her meal, but instead just sat there with her coat clenched over her face and tears in her eyes. 

Her eyes peered over the edge of her coat as Jane walked back over to her. "I'm sorry. I really am Miss Jane..." She swallowed and blinked back any tears, lowering the coat. "But I don't love all of them. Individuals are different," Dahlia told her. "I never said that I did, Miss Jane! Not all humans are kind and not all galdori are kind. You can't blame crime or taxes or rent on an entire race. The taxes, say, are like..like ale!" She held out her mug of ale with a trembling hand, her eyes fixed on the dark liquid. "If I didn't like it, but I do Miss Jane, you have very nice ale, I could easily insult you and all the other staff of The Clockwork Stag for their bad ale when really I should be blaming the people higher up shouldn't I? I can't blame you for serving me bad ale. It's the supplier. See, Miss Jane? Do you understand? I can't blame every galdori landlord or seller for their rent and taxes. It isn't their fault, they're only the messenger. The waitress if you will. It is the supplier, the goverment I should be blaming". Dahlia raised the mug to her mouth, taking a large mouthful of the ale. She was quite proud of her metaphor. It was a fine speech, perhaps the longest she had made. She couldn't wait to get home and tell Cook and Millie all about it. Cook would be so proud of her. 

Jane eyes widened and she uncrossed her arms when she realized that Dahlia was crying.

Gods. Maybe that was a bit harsh.

She thought carefully about what she was going to say next. What Dahlia said was true. Jane couldn't blame the entire galdori population for what had happened to her. She knew this in her mind, but she didn't specify this to Dahlia. She hated the government, but Jane never knew any galdori personally. Dahlia was right, but she hated to admit it. Jane couldn't blame all galdori because of the mistakes of the government. "I can see we view galdori differently. Very differently."

Jane felt a little troubled. She didn't feel this way often. She was almost always set in her opinions, but the metaphor - and an apt one at that - that Dahlia presented made Jane think a little differently. Maybe Jane was just a victim of a few cruel gollies that plagued Vienda. But, as far as Jane could tell, nearly every human disliked the galdori - at varying levels. The galdori had nearly always done something bad to every human and wick due to this wretched government. Jane wanted them gone as fast as possible. The Resistance would be her outlet for this passion.

Jane and Dahlia had very different opinions. Jane reluctantly agreed to disagree. She didn't want to cause any commotion, and she didn't want to cause Dahlia any more pain. It was hard enough to see her cry without feeling any guilt whatsoever. Jane wanted to think, Well, you should be crying. Your people need you but you ignore them. But it seemed just too heartless. She resigned to a level of guilt and empathy. It was hard to find anyone kind these days - Dahlia was a lucky one who found a kind employer, despite his races bad reputation.

"I know. I apologize, Miss Dahlia. I should have elaborated. I don't hate all galdori. Just..." Jane lowered her voice. " I hate the government. And they give the impression that they have absolute power. I..." She whispered to Dahlia. "I want to take that power from them. They have no right to it as far as I'm concerned."

She went and poured herself an ale before Jane came and sat next to Dahlia on the other side of the bar. Again, it was an unprofessional move. But, she had a status to uphold. A status as the good, innocent cook of the Stag. She didn't want it tainted only a week into her job.

The golly hating girl with a fighters passion would have to wait until the Resistance. If the opportunity ever arose. Jane would make sure it did.

"I'm sorry If I offended you Dahlia. I'm sure that your employer is a good man. And each to their own I guess. If you want to work for a galdori, be my guest. But, as far as I'm concerned, the government that they all support can't be trusted. Just my opinion." She took a long drawn out sip from her mug. The tiredness and stress was getting to her, as well as the homesickness. The alcohol helped, but she couldn't help the level of bitterness that was settling in her mind.

And as an added thought. "And I think I have good reason to believe that."

Dahlia went cold. It felt like a window had been left open somewhere and a draught was blowing across the back of her neck. She hunched up her shoulders as to block it out, shivering lightly. They were very dangerous words Jane was speaking. Possibly dangerous enough to have the Seventen hammering at the door. The tone of the girl's voice, the implications of her words make Dahlia's instincts scream. Run away. Far away. She'll bring you down to. You'll get in trouble. A worker entered the Stag and left the heavy door to close by itself. It did so with a loud enough bang to make the maid jump visibly. She glanced about the room wildly, expecting green and black clad officers to come leaping through the windows. "You don't meant that Miss Jane," she whispered. Her voice shook with fright as she spoke. "They have the powers. The galdori do. Magic like you've never seen".

She shook her head and took her own mug of ale, draining it completely. Dahlia lowered it back to the bar, well aware her hands were now trembling slightly from the startle the door had given her. When Jane sat beside her, she turned on her stool to face her. Dahlia's eyes were wide and pleading. "Miss Jane, I know you're entitled to your own opinion but...but..." She glanced around the room before leaning in. Her voice wa lowered further to hide their conversation from any eavesdroppers. "Who do we have? If you were to..to...God forbid overthrow the government, who do we have to take charge? Look around you Miss Jane. I doubt one person in this room, in the entire Dives, can even write the laws we need or...or...do those numbery things so everyone has the money we need! I know that's all because of the galdori that we can't learn and the like. We ought to work on that right? We need education like they do for their children at Brunnhold. But for humans and wicks too".

She offered Jane a small smile and leaned away. "My ma always used to say you have to learn how to walk before you can starting running. Please take that into account before you go dreaming of such...things. Don't go biting the hand that feeds us all".

Jane stood up quickly and turned at the slam of the door. She looked at the door where the worker had entered and gave the worker a questioning look before sitting back down. That's when she noticed how tense Dahlia was. Jane didn't say anything, but waited for her to talk.



"I do." Jane said, her voice equally low. "They may have power in magic, but he have power in numbers, in guns and in weapons, in our fighting spirit. Gollies don't have that. They've all had their lives served on a silver platter. They've never known what it's like to fight for your freedom, to fight for survival. They wouldn't have the motivation to fight. I think, we could win. Just on the basis of that. If we can do that singularly, imagine all of us collectively" Jane smiled. Yes, it would work.

Jane sipped her ale. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea talking to Dahlia about this, considering she was a galdori sympathizer. This was a chance for Jane to influence her, to get her on the right side. The side of her own race. It would be worthwhile in the end. At least, Jane hoped so.

"To take charge?"
Jane looked around the room, before whispering as quietly as she could in Dahlias ear. "I would hope you know of Jon Serro." Jane sipped her ale, while she waited for that statement to sink in. Jon Serro. The leader of the resistance. He seemed an apt leader if such an occasion ever does arise. "Besides, the reason us humans are so uneducated, and, as you seem to think, incapable of leading is because of the gollies in the first place. They've never given us a chance to prove our worth, in grant it, thousands of years. If we ever were educated or given a chance, I think we'd be just as good as gollies. If not, better."

It was an interesting conversation. Jane never met any one with strong conviction towards gollies. Unlike her, Dahlia thought the human resistance was futile, and that gollies were the be all and end all of society. It was an odd feeling to argue with some one like that. It was an interesting experience. Hell, Vienda was an interesting experience.

"Education would be a good thing, I grant you that. But, by the way things are going, I don't think we're going to get there without a fight." Jane raised her cup to drink.



That last comment was uncalled for. In Janes mind. She slammed her cup on the bar in response.
"Feeds us all? Feeds us all? Damn it, Dahlia. The galdori don't do anything for us. Not even for the poor farmer in the farmlands. Name one good thing that the galdori have done for us humans... collectively. Go on, I dare you." Jane struggled to keep her voice low enough not to drawn attention. "The only thing that I can see that the galdori have done for us, is take away everything we are. Our humanity - if that's what you call it - is dying out. I don't see brotherhood anymore. I see empty souls, I see criminals and I see people dying in the streets with no one to help! This is what the galdori have reduced us to. A destroyed people."

(( Carried over from viewtopic.php?f=4&t=3362&p=46745#p46745 ))

Gannon had lead Wendy into the Stag, fully intending on making good on her request for lunch.



"I did indeed, I'll just have to find our cook..." Gannon replied, sounding as though he were occupied in just the act of finding said cook. It was a lot easier when you towered over everybody else, though, and he found her soon enough talking with a prim looking human woman.

He lead Wendy to the end of the bar that was rather empty and--politely as he knew how, even smiling--told her she could have a seat there and he'd be right back.

He then skirted around behind the bar and walked Jane's way and was about to call to her when he heard the cup slam against the bar. His eyebrows shot up when he had a look at how shaken the woman she spoke to looked. Gannon caught but the end of Jane's little tirade and his expression hardened. He walked up behind Jane, stormy expression and all, and cleared his throat. Roughly.

Jane stood to attention in her chair when she heard the cough. She knew it was Gannon. She just knew. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as his angry shadow loomed over her.

Jane only just noticed when Gannon walked in when she felt a shadow loom behind her. Her eyes widened.

She quickly jumped down from her seat and turned around to look at an angry Gannon. He was angrier than she expected, and Janes stomach did a back flip. She smiled a little, sheepishly and thought, Clocks, I've done it now.

"Hi... Gannon.I.. I didn't expect you back so soon" She knew she had done something wrong. It was hard to exactly pin point. Maybe the dangerous conversation she was having. (She knew it was a dangerous one). Or maybe being distracted form her work. She didn't exactly know. But, she did know it was something - Gannons face said it all.
"You probably heard that... didn't you?" She sighed, and looked apologetic. "And before you say anything else, Vickas out for the day. Sick relative. I'm sure you'd understand." She smiled a little at Gannons stormy cloud of a face. As always, Gannon was a storm cloud. A giant, unavoidable storm cloud. And this time, the lightening was directed at Jane. She waited for the storm.

Dahlia was starting to wonder if everyone from the Anaxi farmlands was mad or if Jane was an individual case. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she was guilty and so she had to justify herself. There was madness in thinking you could take down a galdor with guns, even with numbers.
“You said you’re new here but surely you heard of the riots?” Dahlia asked her. “The sky rained fire. People died.” She had heard all the stories, everybody had. It was a great big disaster, a tragedy. “If the Seventen could cause such damage unintentionally, imagine what they could do to the Resistance...Jon Serro’s precious Resistance.”

She sighed sadly, running a finger around the rim of her mug. She didn’t believe in Jon Serro. He was just a myth, a figurehead for the Resistance that was the ideal hero. Jon Serro, fighting for freedom and equality. Jon Serro, saving the day. And even if he was real, he couldn’t possibly be the one in charge. The Resistance was meant to be underground, a secret, yet even maids like her knew who was leading it. If she knew, then of course the Seventen knew. “Some people say he’s dead,” Dahlia whispered,” That’s what the Seventen say, at least.”



Dahlia resisted groaning but her eyes flicked up to the ceiling as she exhaled loudly. “Now that the Resistance have given us all a bad name, of course. We should find some sympathetic galdori and perhaps form a sister group to the Society of Passive Equality. Afterall, we have a common goal. Equality amongst the races.”

When Jane slammed her mug on the bar it caused Dahlia to jump back and cower away from the girl like a mouse who had suddenly found themselves in the shadow of a cat. She could only stammer in protest to Jane’s tirade as she didn’t have time to gather her senses. The reason for this was the fact a larger shadow had fallen over the pair, one which coughed in a manner that said “You’re in very, very, deep trouble”.
Dahlia’s head shot up and if she had looked shaken before, she looked even more so as she took in this man’s height and expression. His remaining one eye was more than capable to make up for the missing one as he glared down at them. She too jumped down from her seat, holding her coat under her chin to protect her from this vicious looking man. It didn’t take a genius to realise this one-eyed giant was the man in the charge and able to deal out punishment as he saw fit.

Wendy poked her head out behind Gannon's back, producing a rather comical effect. "Hello." She said loudly, refusing to be cowed by Gannon's suddenly fierce stance. If he was going to lord over his workers he didn't deserve her respect. "Are you a cook?" She asked Jane, slipping past Gannon and leaning on the counter. "I'm Wendy."

Her manner was much easier with women than it was with men. Although she worked in a man's world, she never truly felt like she belonged in it. She was an invader, working the job that she wasn't supposed to be working. A small, stubborn part of her insisted that this was because she wasn't supposed to be working hard jobs at all. She belonged in the university, doing magic.

That small part of her was increasingly silent, though. She smiled tightly at the two women, who seemed to be terrified of the giant behind her. Is there really a reason to fear him? She hoped not. "You're not afraid of this big oaf, are you? He offered to take me to his home, but I told him I wasn't that type of girl. He's certainly very forward, isn't he?"

Wendy's hands went down to her belt and felt for her purse out of habit. Still there. "Did you say you had food?" They hadn't said anything of the sort, but Wendy was starving, and she didn't get to eat out often.

Jane blinked a few times at Wendy's appearance. She hadn't seen Wendy behind Gannon, and it was rather strange that Gannon had brought someone to the Stag. He'd never done so before, and didn't look like the kinda guy who would. Especially not a woman.

"...Hello." Jane blinked a few times again, and shook herself. He spine tingled Woah, weird.
"Yes, that's me. I'm the cook. The name's Jane." Jane held her hand out to shakes Wendys and smiled. She turned her attention towards Wendy, and away from Gannon. He could wait. Wendy was being an important tension release, and Jane was grateful. "Oh, and this is Dahlia." Jane introduced the woman to Wendy, and she felt the tension lower. As Jane made eye contact with Dahlia, she made an apologetic, 'let's be friends' face. She didn't really mean all the things she said. Well, she did - she just didn't mean upset Dahlia.

After Jane heard Wendys comment about Gannon, she smirked. "He is. I'm not afraid of him. I'm afraid for my job. You know, gotta keep the boss happy. Gotta keep the bread on the table and a roof over ya head." She made a sidewards glance towards Gannon. She took as sip from her cup and looked at Gannon in a way that said, I know you're angry with me, but can we talk about it later?

Jane laughed at the comment about Wendys want for food. "We do. What can I get you?" She hopped around the other side of the bar, and drained her ale mug. The alcohol gave her a pleasant warmth in her stomach and she smiled.

Comical effect indeed. Gannon's eyebrows raised at feeling Wendy behind him (again) and the glare was all but gone from his features, though it found its way back uppon being called 'a big oaf'. It got a scosh annoying when most people equated any amount of size with stupidity.

Gannon glared at Jane and easily read her expression. Fine, but we will talk. "That's right..." he drawled, "We'll get food fer ya'.... Right after th' cook gets done harassing the other customers." You couldn't get much more pointed than that.

He walked to Dahlia and leaned against the bar. He didn't mean to lean over her, but when you were six clocking eight it was a bit hard. "Hi." Gannon wanted to make sure that she wasn't too rattled. Maybe she could tell him what was what, anyhow.