((The Wednesday Triple: page 1 of 3))
Garovel floated over to him, laughing in the echo of privacy. ‘Look what you’ve started, Hector.’
Hector mostly just wanted answers, though. ‘Why is there a food shortage?’
‘Lord Diego,’ said Garovel publicly, grabbing the man’s attention, ‘can you ask the innkeeper for more details about what’s been going on around here?’
“I don’t speak Hunese,” said Diego, looking around. “Hold on, I’ll find someone.” He disappeared into the throng of people, then returned a few moments later with Carlos Sebolt, who gave Hector a nod of acknowledgment.
Hector was happy to return one of his own, though he was surprised that Lord Carlos even recognized him. He’d only met the man a couple times, and he hadn’t really spoken to him on either occasion.
Garovel listened in on Carlos’ conversation with the innkeeper. ‘...So, what I’m gathering is that this new government rose to power by promising to redistribute wealth to the lower classes. Ah, I see. The local militia was supposed to hand out food to everyone, but instead, they just started selling it at exorbitant prices.’
‘What the fuck?’ said Hector. ‘They can just DO that?’
‘Well, who’s left to stop them? This type of thing happens all the time. People get so wrapped up in the idea of a revolution that they don’t have a realistic plan for what to do afterwards. And then the few people who still have power, like the ones with guns, see an opportunity. Assuming they didn’t plan to do this from the start, that is.’
‘If they’re lucky, this’ll all sort itself out within a few months or so, but there’s a chance that the militia will establish a more long-term foothold in the city. And between that and this treasure-hunting fever going around, these locals are looking at some rough times ahead.’