Per Lord Emmanellain's suggestion, you decide to partake of the food and drink in the nearby tavern. Desiring privacy, you opt for a secluded seat in the corner, and drink deep from a mug of mulled wine provided by a young waitress. You find yourself listening half-heartedly as she speaks of this and that... your eyes growing heavy, your limbs sapped of all strength. She turns, and through the haze you see her eyes, burning with contempt. You crumple to the ground, and as all fades to black, you hear her whisper to sleep, to sleep...
A grave, and a woman. No -- two women, and a man. Countless graves, countless lives lost. A war that would never end, no -- not for them. They came together, unwilling and unable to forgive, to forget. They learned of the conference and despaired... until she stepped forward. For she had a plan.
Thancred rouses you from your slumber, and from beyond the tavern doors you can hear the faint sounds of fighting. Bursting forth, you find chaos. Soldiers and civilians -- some whom you recognize from your vision -- lie dead and dying. From atop a wall she calls out. The woman from the tavern -- from your vision. She cries out for vengeance against the Dravanians, and Emmanellain, in a panic, commands a nearby knight to act. As the crowd looks on, the knight shoots, striking her in the arm. Wounded and enraged, she decries the lordling and all for which he stands, before a second arrow silences her, and she falls from sight. All eyes turn to the young lord as he pleads his innocence, that all was a misunderstanding. But you know full well that it is too late for excuses.
In the wake of the failed protest, Lord Emmanellain retreats to the tavern, leaving you and Thancred to ensure that order has been fully restored. But, more importantly, having witnessed such a heavy-handed suppression, how will the people regard Ser Aymeric's efforts to ensure peace now?
You quickly ascertain that the people are uneasy and divided, harboring resentment towards the protesters, Lord Emmanellain, and even Ser Aymeric. Though there appears to be no risk of further violence, the peace conference clearly has no chance of success in this climate.
Thancred informs you that, for a mercy, the guards do not appear to have been responsible for any civilian casualties. Nevertheless, he agrees with your assessment. Misguided though her actions may have been, the protest leader's words resonated with many who have lost loved ones, as Thancred quietly observes...
Oh, and this should of course go without saying, but let's keep those last few favors between us, yes? Artoirel wouldn't understand.
Right then—the first floor of the barracks has been converted to a tavern for the duration of the conference. Why don't you go and have something to eat?
They think only of the prize—of the peace Ser Aymeric promises them. They know in their hearts it's a lie, but they go along with it anyway, desperate fools. But not I. Not I!
I see the wyrm that killed my brother in my dreams every night! And I will not rest until he lies broken at my feet! Him and every last one of his accursed kin!
All this nonsense about kings of eld. As if I care what they did or didn't do! Makes no difference to me and mine! Have the dragons sued for peace in a thousand years? Have they bollocks!
It's a bloody ruse is what it is! And Ser Aymeric and the rest of 'em've bloody fallen for it!
Hear me, brothers and sisters! Do not be fooled by the honeyed words of the Dravanians! The peace they promise is but a prelude to slaughter!
Remember your husbands and wives, never returned from war! Your children, torn apart by fang and claw! All your loved ones, shown no mercy!
Does not your heart cry out for vengeance!? Your blood boil at the injustice!? Remember the face of your enemy, brothers and sisters! Remember it and strike back!
See! See here is the true nature of the highborn! With lies and deception they lead us to our doom, and dare we raise our voices in dissent —death is our reward!
This is the choice they have given us, brothers and sisters! Death by dragon's fang or death by nobleman's command! Death to all we hold dear!
I spit on your choices, nobleman! You will take no more form me... No more! NO MORE!
Pray forgive me, my lady/lord. It's been chaos since preparations for the conference began, and I needed all the help I could get, and...and... How was I to know!?
I only realized what had happened after we inspected the mug. Master Thancred tells me it was a sleeping agent of some sort...
I daresay that could not have played out any worse, given that the first commander and Lord Artoirel are not here to take control of the situation.
I spoke with a messenger who said that they would be returning shortly, but until they do, naught will be done. Lord Emmanellain has retreated to the barracks and is refusing to speak to anyone.
Therefore it falls to us to ensure that order has been fully restored. Come, let us walk the streets and speak with the people.
They were wrong to resort to violence, but when I heard her speak, her words were as a dagger in my heart.
Who are we to decide that enough is enough? That their calls for justice can never be answered? Will this be the end of it, or will there be others like them and the True Brothers?
I do not want to bear steel against my kinsman ever again. I do not know if I even can....
So, the violence has passed, but the people are far from recovered. That is to be expected.
For the moment, it appears that no innocents were harmed by the guards. The blame for all casualties can be placed squarely upon the protesters.
Nevertheless, the people will not soon forget the image of a young lordling ordering the public execution of an unarmed protestor - one whose words resonated with the hearts of many.
After all, who among us has not lost loved ones...