Once Onirioago was out of the room, Ikzoz returned his attention to the gathered council. “As much as I am loath to do so at this late hour,” he said in a delicate tone, “I’m afraid this meeting must continue for a short time longer.”

A groan went around the table at that. 

Kaldalis wasn’t sure if he and his friends were welcome at this part. Should they leave or were they allowed to stick around? Were they still needed for something? 

Bangen didn’t move to leave, so he resolved to hold his ground until they were kicked out.

“In light of recent events, the sooner we can have a new leader installed, the better,” Ikzoz went on. “Removing Onirioago from authority disabled all the settlement’s menus. She will not be able to handle normal upkeep, which can be disastrous if allowed to continue for too long.”

“A single day with no leader will have severe consequences,” Sardol said, “but they will be manageable. More than that, and we may as well convert everything to a convoy and let the town crumble.” He wrung his hands together.

“A one day time limit is acceptable,” Ikzoz said with a firm nod. “We can make an announcement in the morning, and have our choice ready by the end of the day.”

“Our choice?” the bhogad architect asked with an almost snarl. “Do you think that’s the best way to handle it?”

Ikzoz hesitated, not having an immediate answer.

“Even if we keep the deacon tetra under wraps,” they continued, “making our own choice is going to create a huge stir. Think about how it looks from the outside.”

“We just had Onirioago arrested for committing an unspecified crime against humanity,” the shifty suyon added. “This is either going to look like a mutiny, or like we’re all party to her crime and installing another crony to pick up where she left off after shedding the suspicion she attracted.” He jerked his thumb towards Balrim, Myrin, and Kaldalis. “Even with their voice to back us up.”

“Valid concerns,” Ikzoz said, his clawed finger tapped at his scaled chin. “We need to consider the feelings of the adventurers here, not just our immediate needs. Even if we assign an interim leader, we might be setting them up to have the adventurers snooping around their every action, suspecting them of wrongdoing at every turn. So what is our alternative?”

“A public vote,” Balrim said suddenly. 

Everyone turned towards him with a start, as if only remembering he was there when he spoke. Balrim flinched at the sudden attention.

“No, go on,” Ikzoz said, holding up a hand to quiet any objections. “As an adventurer, your opinion is particularly valuable to this discussion.”

“Hold a public vote,” Balrim said in a stronger tone, as if forcefully pushing aside his discomfort. “Make the announcement in the morning, and then hold a vote in the evening. Give every adventurer in camp a voice to select the leader.”

“It might just turn into a popularity contest,” Myrin warned. “Just because democracy is the most widely accepted system of governance doesn’t mean it’s the best. Oftentimes it just picks the lesser of two evils. Or picks randomly between them. It doesn’t guarantee we get the best leader.”

“But we don’t need the best leader,” Balrim said. “We just need someone that nobody objects to until the stink of Onirioago’s crime fades. The council will still have the power to minimize harm an inexperienced leader could do, after all.”

“More than we had under Onirioago,” Sardol said with a thin smile. “She was very adamant about everything being her final say. It would be a benefit to the whole camp for someone who will actually listen to us without micromanaging our individual duties.”

Ikzoz nodded. “Effectively, however, they would be an interim leader. Maybe they rise to the occasion, maybe they don’t. But what they will be is acceptable. No one can say that the council is installing a mutineer, or a replacement figurehead. The whole encampment will have chosen them, not us alone.” He looked over to Balrim with visible appreciation. “A smart plan. Thank you for your input.”

“So who is the vote between?” Captain Filomena asked. “Any of the council? That seems like a few too many choices.”

As soon as the question settled over the group, chaos erupted. Everyone started to demand that they be a candidate. And then everybody started to shout at one another for why they shouldn’t. 

It instantly devolved into seven separate arguments.

The shifty suyon was engaged in a very animated discussion with Sardol, with both of them periodically pointing to the others around the table. Ikzoz was busily trying to calm down the bhogad architect, who looked to be on the verge of tears after something someone had said to them in that first volley of insults. The others else had split into groups of two or three and were violently arguing their points. 

Everyone except the captain, who had fallen out of her chair sideways, grabbing her ribs and cackling madly.

Considering how calm and reasonable the council had appeared so far - especially compared to Onirioago - the chaos was a shock. 

Kaldalis wasn’t surprised by the captain stirring the pot. In his past times visiting the council, she had seemed dissatisfied with how she didn’t really have a part to play now that they were no longer on the ocean. But it surprised him how well her kick had riled up the hornet’s nest.

As the arguments got louder, he started to understand the core problem. Kaldalis had been grateful that they’d taken Onirioago’s crime seriously enough to act quickly and decisively, but now it was to their detriment. A major component of the arguments was to accuse people for their connections to Onirioago. Considering that the consequences of her plan being enacted would fall most heavily on the people in this room - the others in camp with authority - it seemed sensible that they would fear any hidden confederates among the council.

“Hey!” Ikzoz yelled over the room. “HEY!”

“Everybody!” Myrin bellowed, her voice ten times louder than Kaldalis believed someone her size could be capable of. “Shut the FUCK up!”

Everyone quieted, surprised at being out-shouted by the shortest person in the room.

“Thank you,” Ikzoz said.

“No problem,” Myrin croaked. She winced and clutched her throat. “Just make it count, I don’t have another in me for an hour or so.”

“We’re not getting anywhere,” Ikzoz said. “All we’re doing is what Onirioago wants. Turning against each other. Creating discord. Breaking apart the facade of order we’ve plastered over her authority.” He shook his head. “If this is the kind of behavior we’re going to exhibit, then the adventurers are going to question if they weren’t better off with Onirioago, megalomaniacal plan or no.”

“So what do we do?” Sardol asked. “We all agree that the vote is the best plan, but most of the adventurers don’t know any of us from each other. If we made it just between all of us, the vote is going to go to whoever has the most memorable name.”

“Take nominations,” Kaldalis offered. Everyone turned to look at him, and he tried not to flinch as visibly at the sudden attention as Balrim had. “Give everyone a voice in that as well. The elected leader is already going to be an interim replacement, right? Then it doesn’t matter who gets the spot. Letting the leader be chosen freely by the encampment from everybody available? Nobody could complain. And since it could be anybody, nobody would fault you all for keeping a close eye on them for any signs of sympathy to Onirioago’s plan.”

“But then it could be literally anyone,” the bhogad architect warned, “even one of the adventurers. It might be someone with no leadership experience at all.”

“That seems unlikely that even reckless adventurers would elect one of their friends over an established authority,” Ikzoz said with a chuckle, “but if it does happen, that works in the favor of this council as well. An inexperienced leader means they will rely on our input. They’re less likely to disregard our opinions like Onirioago did.”

Everyone nodded or voiced their agreement to his statement.

“So at dawn, we will gather the adventurers and announce what has happened,” Sardol said, “with appropriate secrecy of the nature of Onirioago’s crime. And then tomorrow night we'll gather again, take nominations and hold a vote. If we time it right, we might catch the upkeep deadline and suffer no losses.”

Ikzoz clapped his hands together. “It’s settled, then. At the risk of us all actually getting eight hours of sleep tonight, I feel comfortable calling this matter resolved and this meeting adjourned. All in favor?”

The council members all raised their hands. Ikzoz didn’t ask for a vote of opposition before adjourning the meeting. Everyone filed out of the building and scattered into the night, returning to their respective rest.

As Kaldalis stood with his friends, he wondered what his next step should be. 

More than that, though, he wondered if he would ever be able to get back to sleep.