Outside the Dawn Tavern, two figures leaned against the railing, away from the light and noise behind them, letting the sea breeze wash over them.
"What is Annan trying to do? I can't make sense of it."
Andrew Luna held a bottle of wine, his complaint scattered by the damp wind. "A punch here, a kick there..."
"Isn't it obvious? He's doing what we used to do." Faster lounged beside him.
Andrew Luna fell silent. Only the wine in his bottle continued to slosh gently.
"Though that kid has gone further than we ever did. We wouldn't have dared touch the Church back then."
Andrew Luna murmured, "That's exactly what worries me... He handled the Foreign Races well without rushing in, but suddenly dragging the Church into it... That's going to cause serious trouble."
"If he doesn't move against the Church while things are in turmoil, when will he?"
"You think that highly of Annan?"
Faster raised a finger and jabbed it toward Andrew Luna from a distance. "Times have changed. Annan's doing better than we did."
"Not necessarily."
"We fell, and he's still standing on the stage. That says it all."
Faster snatched Andrew Luna's half-empty bottle and poured the wine onto Sandy Beach below, as though making an offering to someone. "Stopping Vampires from drinking blood, Ogres from eating people, and Orcs from raiding... It might look stable, but in the end, it only forces the Foreign Races to twist themselves into shape under human rules. How could that last?"
Andrew Luna gazed at the night sky, his voice dropping. "But things won't stay peaceful. Are you just going to watch the heir to The Faction's ideals face the coming storm?"
"Annan chose this road himself. I'm just a minor Elite. What can I do?"
"If Free City