The bank attack had gone well. But Aurien needed to do more than just torch a building, if she wanted to make this liberation happen. She needed more allies than just the handful of outcasts who had flocked to her thus far. And the best place to build that base of supporters, of those willing to make sacrifices, was in this district of the downtrodden and neglected.<br/><br/>Word circulated, here and there. Never overt, never anything obvious, never anything that would stand out to a casual listener. Just a word here, a wink there, a note slipped into a pocket on the other corner. But the whispers spread, and spread. An address was listed - and a time.<br/><br/>At the appointed hour, the crowd gathered was still small, as such things go, and not many of them looked much like another. But they were the same in a key respect. They had fire in their eyes. They had passion. They had the will needed to make sacrifices, in the name of the cause. And Aurien could work with that.<br/><br/>She stepped out onto the small stage, in an abandoned warehouse near the border with the Docks, and she began to speak. She was a gifted public speaker; while she didn't seem to be speaking above a conversational tone, everyone present could hear her. She spoke of freedom, of liberation, and of revelation. She spoke about rising up and casting off the shackles of the oppressive regime. She spoke of the power of the masses, the power of the outcasts who had spent their whole lives looking through a shop window at a life that they could never have, a world that did not want them.<br/><br/>Not everyone was receptive to such messages, and those who were not left, perhaps disturbed but unharmed. The others, though, stayed late into the night to hear her speak, to hear the fire in her words. To a people who had been left neglected and disregarded for their entire lives, for whole generations, a people who had been shoved into the dirtiest and poorest part of the city, her words were a balm. Simply being seen, being regarded as worth talking to by an orator like this, was something they likely had never had.<br/><br/>They left too, in the end, and many of them left carrying small tokens - pebbles, bits of shiny metal, wood, whatever was handy - each with a small wolf's head carved on it.