Diddly dum.

It was another one of his days. The stars shone bright on the land, and the dark sky. By seeing this, he was well past the sleeping hour, and if he did not have tea very soon, he was likely to pass out right on the street.

Larkin the Shrike's boots thudded loudly on the cobblestone street, the windowless sided buildings of Galesing looming above him and the sounds of the night filling the air; shouting people, singing and dancing, drunken slurs and curses, the mad bidding at a nearby auction. Which reminds me, how many servants have I lost this month? He needed to replace him. It was quite annoying when his slave squad was not hovering around him, waiting on him hand and foot. Even out in the streets, he wished he could have one along to go fetch him this and that. But he couldn't, because slaves were not to be trusted and if he took one along on his little excursions, they were bound to tell someone of what he was up to. Can't have that, can we? Argh, tea.

He looked left and right for that certain little shop that served the strongest tea, and not seeing it, he reasoned that he must have been on the wrong street. But, as he veered towards the auction to see what was up for bid, he caught a glimpse, and around the corner it sat. A mass of men cut him off just as he was going to break loose from the bidding people in the auction ground crowds, temporarily trapping him in the yelling madness. He cleared his throat, those around him who heard and noticed his long flowing hair, stepping back a few feet. It was illegal to touch royalty. Freely, he walked away and headed to fetch himself some tea. It was going to be a long night, though he was unaware of just how long.

"SINK!" someone screeched above the bids - that abruptly ceased afterward - behind him. Lark swirled around, just in time to see the large auction square being swarmed by a group of pale, rough looking men and women. The slaves were freed, their chains being struck with hammers. Women rushed them away into a new molehole, whilst the men fought off some of the braver bidders and slave owners.

The Shrike pushed passed fleeing creatures, and through to where the action was. This was ridiculous, where were the guardians? He gave a snarl, flinging aside those who were in his way.

"UNIFORMS!" a woman shrieked just as the guardians came with their glowing staves, and suddenly a wave of the scoundrels headed towards the hole in the ground, slaves along with them. Lark was shoved this way and that before he could think, but his hand went out to grab an arm, and he jerked it out of the fleeing mass. At least, one of them will take a beating.