The small group of militia Emera had stationed for patrol that day were taking up the space of her small shelter. The house itself wasn't much, four walls made of mud brick, reinforced with wood she chopped and gathered from the forest. There was an area in the center that was a bit lower than the rest of the floor where she made a fire, and a makeshift window and door carved into the wall facing the street, both of which were covered by tattered cloth. A small cot was located in the far corner right next to extra It wasn't much , but it was more of a home to Emera than she's ever had in her life, and she knows this little shelter has been a place to stay for several of the folk in the area when they fell upon desperate times. only about fourteen square feet total, but it provided sufficient shelter and a safe place for the militia to meet before patrol. Currently, there was a gathering of a few men and women who had just finished a small hunt with her into the forests. Their catches were strung up and Emera was currently dividing up the rations to be handed out by the markets. They had quite the load this time, the young soldier was proud of what they had accomplished. They had been making hunts into the forests at least once a week now, typically at night when the larger animals moved about and they could be ready for the smaller rodents and birds to arise in the morning and catch them while they were just getting out of their shelters. The hunting parties had been lucky as of late, bringing in some large game in recent trips much to the dismay of the poachers. Most of the poachers didn't appreciate Emera and her crew giving out food for the townspeople. After all, now the townsfolk had another means of obtaining food and the poachers lost much of their profits as a result and were now forced to lower their prices in order to compete and sell their meats. All Emera had to say on that was "Good." The poachers in Low Town have been taking advantage of the desperation of the starving for too long now, they deserve more than just a small loss of coin. However, just because they freely handed out food rations didn't mean that the rest of the animal went to waste. The meat was the only part of the animal they gave out, the hides, furs and bones were sold in the blackmarket to make a profit and used to fund further operations. Once the rations were divided and times were assigned to each of the men and women when and where they would be handing out rations, Emera dismissed them from her home. A few stuck behind and her patrol was planning out their route for the night, but she noticed a few still folk shifting on their feet in the crowded room and lingering, looking slightly nervous and unsure. The woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, the dirt on her fingertips smudging slightly on her face. "Okay, out with it," she said as she crossed her arms in front of her and leaned against the front wall of the shelter. She had the cloth covering the window rolled up so she could see out into the market. Dusk would be soon approaching and the sky was currently tinged pink with its light. The villagers in the market were finishing their shopping and stands were packing up for the night, but things were still bustling. Emera herself felt quite exhausted after having spent the night hunting in the forests, but she tried not to let it show for she still had much to do today. "Tis true, Emera?" one of the women, Joanna, spoke up, bringing Emera's attention back to the situation at hand. "What they say?" "You'll haveta be more specific, Jo," Emera commented lightly, a smirk upon her lips and a brow lifted upwards. She knew exactly what they wanted to know, but felt like dragging it out nonetheless. "Well - tha- that th' King really made it official?," she finally spilled. The others beside her shifted on their feet uncomfortably, but leaned in closer as they wanted to hear what she was going to say. "Aye," Emera nodded. " 'appened not a weeks ago. We'll see what 'appens." And the words were sent with a firm nod that spoke to the others that she was done speaking about the matter. Joanna looked as if she were about to ask something else but thought better of it before shaking herself, seemingly more confused than before and the others quickly shuffled after her. Emera collapsed on her cot and stared at the dried mud roof and the glimpses of sunlight peaking in through the window to her side. She had been patrolling late in the day near dusk near the walls for gangs that had reportedly been planning to scale the wall into the high town when she had spotted a man dressed as if he himself wanted to be target of all the gangs in Low Town what with all the finery he wore. He was a messenger apparently. Even to this day, Emera was stunned by just how different the Riches were from them. The way they spoke and carried themselves was so incredibly structured as if they were still as dignified and orderly as the kingdom was when it was at its most prosperous before the plague struck. The man, Emera hadn't quite caught his name, had come with an announcement from the King himself, a king they had seldom heard about prior. There were few people in the Low Town courtyard by that point in the day, but the young soldier figured that was kind of the point. The messenger had looked uncomfortable and unsure and mildly disgusted by the area around him, as if he wanted to encounter as few people as possible and get back to the clean side Eamon. Few people had seen Riches since before the plague, although more have been spotted in recent months. People were stunned at the announcement. Not because of the contents of the message, after all, rumors had been going around for some time now that something was happening in the High Towns, everyone could practically guess as to what exactly it was. But up until the messenger showed up, all those were simple rumors that were easy to dismiss. Not so much anymore. Some folk still didn't believe it to be true, but Emera had heard it for herself. As much as Emera wanted to spit at the idea and claim that there were more important things to do than play dignitary to a bunch of nobles who would sneer down the bridge of their noses to them all, she also knew what this meant for her people and knew very well to take advantage. This was exactly what Eamon needed, a second chance. It had been strange, to say the least, the encounter. After all, once the wall was constructed years back, no one from the lower towns had heard from the nobles. They could have all died from the plague behind their little walls and none of them would have been the wiser. Over the years, there were a few announcements from the interior - updates on the king and announcements of traveling parties or negotiations with other kingdoms. All matters that had no effect on them, up until recently when it was announced that there were plans being made to tear down the wall. Emera had no idea what to expect from these talks, but Emera could feel the impending change weighing in the air like a heavy blanket. Yes, things would be very different from this point on indeed. Emera blinked up at the ceiling, realizing she had been getting lost in her thoughts. She stood up from the cot she was occupying and reached for her Claymore. The two-handed sword's weight in her hands felt familiar and comforting and as she strapped the weapon to her back, she pulled down the cloth covering the door and window, heading out into the markets nearby before they closed up for the day and she would start patrolling.