text: After word gets around about how you helped save that Oalkwardner girl, the villagers seem to trust you enough to allow you to roam the city without sounding any alarms.  Over the next few days, you help with preparations for the funeral, in part because there's nothing better to do, but also because you feel a little bad about not helping Merk with his search.  Who knows?  Maybe you would've been the difference between his life and death.
  
  When the day of the funeral rolls around, the entire town gathers in the square.  It's the most extravagant display you've ever seen in your short time at the village, with tons of food for all and more flowers than you've ever seen in one place before.  It must've cost a fortune in... whatever these guys use as currency.  Merk must've done quite a lot to help the community, because there sure are a lot of drooping ears.  (Which, you've learned, is the Oalkwardner's equivalent to crying).
  
  You stand at the edge of the crowd, still not quite feeling like a part of the community, as the Elder gives a speech.
  
  "We are gathered here today to commemorate the life of Merk, Gertra, and Silia, three of the greatest-"
  
  A pounding in the distance interrupts the speech.  The whole crowd turns towards the source of the noise just in time to see a whole procession of Oalkwardners dressed in the brightest reds and yellows, all riding creatures like ponies, but with little spines running down their back instead of manes. They beat on little drums, all in sync.
  
  The Oalkwardner at the front of the pack raises her arm and raises her voice.  
  
  "Presenting, the great Yelgar, Grand Protector of Realgna and the surrounding country!"  
  
  The Drummers beat their drums faster and faster now, parting to allow a carriage to pass through, drawn by three lizard-like creatures, the size of bulls.  The crowd parts for the carriage, and it stops right in front of the stage.  
  
  The door on the side of the vessel opens, and out hops a rather tall Oalkwardner wearing a red cape and strange, red bracelets spiraling around the entirety of his forearms, like snakes.  
  
  "People of the village of Arrorn!"  He says, "I have come with grave news.  It truly is a shame to interrupt such a lavish funeral, but there are more important matters at hand.  It has come to my attention that there is a base of Rebels in the area, planning to overthrow the kingdom and estate a blasphemous 'new order.'  These are the very same rebels that killed these three!"  He gestures at the paintings of the three fallen Oalkwardners, set on easels on the stage.  "We must act now, lest our glorious empire be overthrown.  Outside this village is the seventy-third division of the King's army, sent to protect this village and take out the Rebel scum in our midst!  It is for this reason, that the King and I felt the need to impose martial law on this village and the surrounding area!  We will also be tripling the tax to sustain our troops.  And we'll be taking all this lovely food you've set out for the funeral.  Desperate times, desperate measures and all that."
  
  A cry of protest comes from deep within the crowd.  "You're already taking three quarters of everything we have!"  A female Oalkwardner pushes her way to the front of the crowd to confront the Yelgar.  "We can barely survive as it is!  And that food for the funeral is the last of our reserves, we only took it out in the first place because Merk and the others did so much for us in their lives!"
  
  Yelgar stares her straight in the face.  "I understand your concern."  He says, "But as I said, desperate times, desperate measures.  Guards, restrain her!"  Two of the horsemen hop off their steeds and grab the girl by the arms, forcing her to her knees.  Yelgar raises his hand, and slaps her across the face, and the crowd gasps.
  
  "Do not question the authority of the Crown."  Yelgar says, still deathly calm, "Or you might wind up like them too,"  he nods towards the paintings.
  
  "Who gives a crap about the Crown?  We're all gonna die anyway under your 'martial law', so may as well go out fighting!"  The girl glares at Yelgar, as the whole crowd seems to hold its breath.
  
  "I see how it is," Yelgar says, clearly disappointed.  "Then let this be an example to anyone else who thinks of dissenting."  He reaches beneath his cloak and pulls out a wooden knife, raising it above his head to strike at the girl, now trembling in the guards grip.
  
  "C-come on,"  the girl says, voice faltering,  "They can't stop all of us!  I say we finish what those rebels started!"  
  
  Still, no one moves.  The whole thing reminds you, once again, of the girl in the forest the night you woke up.  The guilt of leaving her behind wells up within you, are you really gonna let it happen again?
  > yeah, you can live with that. This way you get to stay alive, even if you have to live as a coward.
  You want to do something, you really do, but fear paralyzes you.  It's all you can do to look away as the knife comes down.  Even without looking, you know when the knife falls by the gasps of the crowd and the final screams of the victim.  
  
  "Do not forget the events of today,"  Yelgar says, "Remain under the crown, lest you meet the same fate as this poor, misguided soul here."
  
  A wave of nausea hits you, you can barely manage to stay standing.  What kind dictatorship is this?  The village seemed almost peaceful when you first arrived, but now, you're not so sure.  Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear one of the guards say,
  
  "Sir!  What on earth is that?"
  
  You turn to see one of the taller soldiers pointing straight at you.  Your heart begins to pound.  Now the rest of the guards are looking at you, you can feel their eyes all over you, crawling over your skin like spiders.
  
  "It's a monster!"  Yelgar cries,  "Capture it before it destroys the village!"
  
  You should do something, run, hide, get ready to fight.  But suddenly there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in your lungs, as much as you gasp.  You fall to your hands and knees, heaving.  Another panic attack?  There's no time for this, you have to escape... but it's so... hard to breathe....
  
  Before you know it, you're surrounded by guards, all pointing spears your way.  They close in so tight that any one of them could take you out in one blow if they really needed to.  Why isn't anyone standing up for you?  They all know you're harmless.  Maybe they're all too afraid to say anything.  
  
  The guards all bring down their spears at once, and you know no more...