“Well, this is a fine kettle…”

Gabriel huffed at the very end of those words as he lazy lounged on a couch, watching his host mumble to himself bitterly. The last few days had been left in chaos thanks to that blasted wine distributed throughout the realm. One whose maker was well known in these parts, as well as those that were associated with her. “The town’s getting jumpy these days with all that seedy actions going on. Apparently, some of the council members aren’t too happy with the state of things”, Gabe continued.

“So what? Not like they can do anything”, Reaver chimed in, the black marks beneath his eyes showing that he hadn’t had much sleep as the churches had been up in arms ever since. More people coming to them for answers, blessings, and sanctuary. The church in Vilpamolan was being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers and though the grand cathedral was enormous enough to host numerous lost, little sheep, even they were feeling the aftereffects. “VIpamolan was unruly before, but now it’s a madhouse. The Lo'vadas been reporting that the church will need more supplies and guards soon.” Reaver shook his head and Gabriel gave a small shrug. “Trouble’s been going on very close to the docks as of late. We been trying to find any bottles of that stuff and getting rid of it. Some of the damn pubs won’t hand them over; thinking that we are just trying to muscle in on their free products.”

“They probably had a swig of the stuff themselves”, Reaver stated.

“Don’t know, but that would be a good guess.”

The god was silent but moved like a stressed cat, pacing back and forth as his worries were elsewhere. “I’m pulling Sergei back home from Iria. His studies can wait.” The other men looked in his direction and nodded. They didn’t agree on much but this was a certain thing that they would have to lookout for their own. “Yeah, my folks are returning from holiday. Hopefully, they hadn’t had a taste of that poison.”

Nemesis turned to Reaver, “Get them the supplies they need and remain in the cathedral grounds. I’m going to see what the city looks like myself.” Without overhearing the protest from his priest, Nemesis disappeared and found himself on the barren streets of his home. It had already been ravaged by the exposure of whatever that damned mage had done to his childe’s present to the world. He knew Sera better than most and although she knew how to throw one hell of a party, he knew that this was far from her vision when she crafted the brew. What was important to him was to oversee the island’s state as well as to keep the chaos away from his home and family.