Another cantankerous evening in the Ragged Maiden Inn. Old Blom Blomgrin the innkeep had his hands full this evening but that ain’t sayin’ much on account of every evening bein’ a full one for his aged hands. What happened tonight? Ol’ Jumi Rubigen got himself a trifle bit sloshed on the town’s famous wine and sang the old Anthem from the top of a table, he did. His audience went all hushed and quiet soon as he started a-pipin’ his pipes, not in any sorta particular admirin’ fashion you understand, no sir, it was on account of the old Anthem bein’ a treasonous offense now that King Jigexijicab snatched the crown for hisself and began his Reign. Nigh on three months ago that was. Soundin' off the old Anthem was grounds for some investigations, that was part of the new edict.

SEEMS like it don’t matter much out here in the Assol Lowlands what sorta affairs bein’ pried into up at the Crown, what shady machinations those shadow agents be workin’ on in their towers late at night. All to move another piece in their political games, 300 leagues to the west as the spirits do fly but Blom knew better than to assume no eyes t’weren’t watchin’ the sleepy country village of Gilba Gilba. He had an inn to keep, ain’t that a fact, and it’s also a fact inns are the crossroads of travelers, and comin’ with those travelers is information and gossip. Hotbed of news and strangers. Ain’t no stretch to think mayhap some outlanders take an interest in these parts once in a green season. Don’t take no grizzled Grazzler to figger the Crown’s got some eyes in every corner o’ the realm keepin’ a quiet tally of who’s got the right loyalties. No safety anywheres nowadays what with the rumors n’ all. ‘Course Jumi Rubigen the shopkeep or mayhap farmers such as Farmer Gack to take an example from amongst the hushed crowd t’ain’t got no cause to be worryin’ about such things. All they hafta mind is their stock o’ spears or makin’ their corn yield for this quarter. Blom ain’t blamin’ em for not keepin’ aware of the world but an innkeep meets all kinds of folk from Out There.

So when that drunken Rubigen fella started beltin’ out the old Anthem like some cockadoo at sunspark, well, ol’ Blom put a right stop to that whole bad idea, yes sir he did. He din’t want his Inn put to the torch under some bloodmoon, he din’t need no more entanglements with the Crown, no sir he din’t.

(continued in #63)