Tyron Empire, Sotoma, 69 Lingering Street.
Ashley was searching for the club key.
Ever since Bruto had been arrested and made an example of, supposedly executed for "insulting the nobility" but actually exiled overseas, the Society's bards had privately taken to saying "let's go to the club" to avoid attracting attention.
Then they would come to this apartment, purchased with pooled funds, to discuss writing and diaries. This had been going on for half a year.
For the past six months, they had mostly gathered to complain that the latest popular writing was still as flashy and hollow as ever, pandering blindly to noble tastes. They voiced opinions they normally dared not express and discussed national policies they normally dared not mention.
This was a rebellious, informal subversive organization. It could never openly exist under the nobles' eyes, or all that awaited its members would be the gallows. Every one of them understood that.
As such, each core member was given a key that served as proof of membership.
The keys were magical creations of the Scholar's Guild, containing their owners' blood. Whenever one remained away from its owner for over an hour, it would automatically crumble into ash.
A key was expensive to make, and not every poet could afford to spend their savings on one. Of the three keys they currently had, one belonged to Bruto. Before leaving, he had handed it to Geya Yuexi, and it had most likely accompanied her to the imperial border by now.
One belonged to Houston, the tiefling who had been discovered having an "affair" with Toothy Susie and had backed Bruto up in the lecture hall.
One was in her hands.
She looked down at the silver key she had taken out, set with a blood-red gem.
The craftsmanship was decent,