Glade 1, 122
It was a quiet morning around the bar of the Hobbled Gobbler. But it was a special day for Franky. He and Merielle and Weston were having breakfast at the end of the bar, steak and eggs and beans, with coffee all around. Franky was reading the very first issue of the Knob Free Press, with a showstopping front page piece. It was a smaller newspaper, but there on the front was a drawing, well made so as to translate properly through the printing press, of a man with dashing hair, running a comb through it, looking onward at winged man being held under the boots of soldiers with rifles, another Avialae man nearby, blood oozing out of his chest, crown tumbled away from him, arm outstretched for the first Avialae man.
That image alone would be enough to incite interest. The headline over the image read, 'The Prince of Light's Dark Wedding'. Franky read it and reread it carefully. This was excellent, this was dangerous. This was exactly what he'd been hoping to see when he invested in this endeavor. It certainly read conspiratorially, but that was fine with Franky, it was the teaser. More stories were promised to come. He could certainly see the interest being drummed up in finding out that information, much of which he'd have to find out as well.
But Franky kept much of it silent, for her knew, he absolutely knew, that this event was what Veronica had mentioned happening. He still had two days to turn away from the Imperium before executing her mandate. But he knew he wouldn't. There was nothing about what had happened at Prince Talon's wedding that he'd opposed. Franky had killed plenty in his life and it had shaped his unique view on violence. He didn't necessarily have any issue with Kalzasi or Prince Talon directly, but the world operated in bigger ways than himself. People always had to die, people always had to kill, that would never change so long as the realms of life and death existed.
He sipped at his coffee, "So war?"
Merielle nodded, "Most likely. Kalzasi views this as the first strike and will likely be launching a counter attack in the near future."
Franky nodded, "Time for the Zaichaeri forces to cut their teeth."
Weston grunted and Franky grinned, "No offense." Weston snorted, smiling.
"Do we have any buyers on Willowby or West End?"
Merielle grinned, "No, but that's by design. We will keep it exclusive in the Knob, let the whispers pass among the serving staff and the unseen workers as it worms its way into the West Side. I predict that by the time everyone in West Side has read this article, we'll be releasing our third issue. That's when we'll find new buyers, and charge a higher markup than our first buyers."
Franky grinned, "Perfect. And what additional stories are you following up on?"
Merielle was in thought, "I have my researchers gathering any information possible on the ship that was used, if any details were gained from what few corpses were obtained. Apparently Prince Talon made many of the attackers disappear into nothing in his blinding fury. Look into how a single ship managed to get past Kalzasi's defenses and almost escaped."
She smiled, "I'm preparing a piece on the predictions of Kalzasi's political upheaval and leadership, as well as putting feelers out for what has become of Prince Talon and Prince Aoren. Additionally, need to locate Mr. Dornkirk for an interview, look into his past, why he was placed on indefinite leave."
She looked Franky in the eye, "This is our focus for the season. And while I dig at this, we'll see what we can find that will be useful for our other endeavors."
Franky grinned, "Tumult and war will be good for business. And for the Knob."
Merielle looked worried, "Only if Zaichaer wins."
Franky shook his head, "No country wins in a war."
But in his mind, he thought, 'Not even the Imperium.'
