If Ashlynn's first decree had struck a spark, and the second one fanned the flames, then her announcement in the Plaza set the whole of Lothian City ablaze.
"Did you hear, did you hear?" a serving girl at a pub said when she finally had a few moments to rest in the back with the cooks. "The Demon Lady of the Vale is coming tonight. Lady Ashlynn intends to make peace!"
"I heard the Horse Lord is coming, all the way from the Southern Steppe, with a thousand demons in his horde," the portly cook said as he stirred the stew before pouring in an extra measure of dark brown ale. "They'll trample us down, they will."
"Shush you two," the matron of the pub said, scowling at her hired help. "We're not to use the word 'demon' no more. It's 'Oldish' now… The Oldish Lady of the Vale is older than the march, you know, and we're supposed to respect their age. They might be our customers tomorrow, you know, so it's important to get it right."
