The various lesser Guildsmen were still squabbling in the courtyard before the Hall of Ancients, which had become the de facto meeting place for the new government of Talossa that was forming even now. Nathan had to shake his head. Listening to them yell and shout, one had to wonder if it had been worth it all.
Of course, then one remembered everything else that had happened, and one decided 'yes'. But still, one wondered.
In the end, the remainder of the Ancients had surrendered easily enough, aided by the fact that most were nursing sprains (with a few in such bad shape as to have broken bones). They also had all cheerfully spilled their secrets, insisting they themselves were but the victims of their fellows.
It was increasingly looking as if even if the Ancients were all released from their present imprisonment, they would still be utterly incapable of reforming the council, not in the least because all now hated each other.
Nathan sighed and shook his head. Whatever happened it was going to be a rather chaotic time for Talossa in the future. "No charter any more," he muttered.
"Well, I strongly recommend you avoid all the dressing up in the future," said a familiar voice. Nathan turned to see Sacripant Fenswater standing nearby. "I think the masks made it easy for your Thing to start thinking of themselves as something other than the rest of you."
"That's your guide to good government, eh?" muttered Nathan with a smile.
"For a start," replied the Erl. "Anyway, I've got to head out. Hopefully, this means the Emporium are going to let me get messages through to my bosses, who..." He shook his head. "Well, this is going to be interesting to them."
Nathan smiled as the Nightlander walked away. "Take care, Sacripant," he said.
"You know how good I am at that," replied the Guardsman with a smile.