"Due to the dwarven preference to life underground, the cities in their territories were often split into an over-city and an under-city. It was common for a non-dwarf to be appointed as mayor of the over-city, as while the dwarves remained overall in charge, they were content to leave the matters above ground to those that actually lived their lives there.

This policy has generally resulted in a happier populace who were content under the dwarven rule, and its widespread use was partly the reason why Knallzog had grown from a small kingdom of refugees and exiles into a powerhouse that rivaled the Kingdom Down Under over the past few centuries." - Floren Jonqvist, Historian from Levain, circa 586 FP.

In the morning of the next day, Reinhardt had brought the entirety of the Free Lances as they lined up neatly to the side of a large public square just outside the former Count's citadel. On the other side opposite his, Barnaby's people had lined up as well. Part of the dwarven army lined up between them, an intimidating display formed by their combined formation.

Opposite from the arrayed soldiers and mercenaries were the townspeople. Most adults who could afford to had gathered, as the dwarves had told them all to gather on the public square. It had taken hours to get tens of thousands of people in place, but eventually they decided that enough of the people had gathered.

The Crown Prince, Varsha, Grafs McBaine and Harscape, and Elfriede had climbed to a prepared wooden stage set before the assembled army. Then the Crown Prince cleared his throat and the people fell silent. Several wind mages worked in tandem to transfer his voice to every spectator present.

Then the Crown Prince launched into a speech. It was a formal speech, delivered in ceremonial tones, in formal dwarven language as tradition dictated. At first they had considered using common since none of the locals spoke dwarven, but the presence of an interpreter allowed them to do things the traditional way instead.

Every sentence or two the Crown Prince paused and allowed Elfriede to translate his words into the local tongue, which she did fluently. The speech itself was mostly formality, its contents about the history of the kingdom, their claim to the city by right of conquest, and how, by the power invested in him, he proclaimed Varsha as the probationary Mayor of the city, to serve further should her tenure prove satisfactory.

In return, Varsha swore an oath of loyalty and submission to the kingdom, following the dwarven traditions - Elfriede had translated them for her - while Elfriede translated her words into dwarven back to the Crown Prince.

The crowd had listened carefully, and gave a wary applause when the ceremony was done and the dwarves along with Elfriede left the stage. Varsha then stood at the center of the stage. The old woman stood tall, with her hands on her hips.

"Citizens of Zefirous!" she said, with the wind mages amplifying her voice to reach even those at the back of the crowd. "Times have changed, as you all have no doubt noticed. We are part of the Holy Kingdom of Theodinaz no more, I don't think any of you would want to be part of them any longer anyway, would you?"

Murmurs and headshakes from the crowd answered her, to which Varsha gave a satisfied nod before she continued on.

"For far too long have we toiled and suffered under the yoke of those who called themselves our betters, whether it be by birth or by 'holy decree'. Far too long had they enjoyed extravagance while they stepped on our backs," she said even as some muscular men carried wooden boards towards the stage. "For far too long had the nobles and the priests sucked on our lifeblood just to enrich their own!"

More murmurs arose from the crowd, as well as shouts of approval and anger. Her words had stoked the crowd's tempers, just as she wanted it.

"Now behold! These are the ones who used to dine from wealth gained from our sufferings!" yelled Varsha at the top of her voice as the men set up the wooden boards - each the size of a large door - on the stage. On each of the five boards, a man was nailed directly to it by their wrists and ankles. Three old, two young, all with the typical pale skin of Theodinaz nobility.

Many in the gathered crowd recognized them despite their miserable states. The men were the Count, his eldest son, the noble who came from Norouz, and two of the highest ranked priests of the church, who had been found hiding in the count's mansion.

Then Varsha descended from the stage even while the dwarves behind the stage parted to the side. She stood in front of the crowd as she clapped her hands thrice, and the same group of large men came as they carried tens of large crates from which a rotten stench emanated.

When the dwarves had captured the cities main food warehouses - located within the Count's citadel - they had found a massive stockpile of food, enough to last the city and its people for a year, easily.

That was not all however. They also found plenty of food that had gone bad and rotten. Apparently the nobles preferred to let the stockpiled food rot rather than give it to the poor. The horrible waste was one that disgusted the dwarves, bur Varsha asked them to keep some of the rotten foodstuffs.

Now those crates were brought before the waiting crowd and opened. The rotten stench instantly intensified, and several people retched on the spot. Varsha seemed to ignore it as she stepped towards one of the crates and took a rotten egg into her hand.

"These whoresons would rather let their food rot than give it to us! Look at all these before you! Look at all our new lords gave freely to us! Those all come from what these whoresons hoarded!" she yelled with an increasingly agitated tone. "Nay! Calling them whoresons is an insult to whores everywhere! Even they would have drowned these shitstains at birth!"

After her tirade ended, Varsha pulled her arm back, and hurled the rotten egg right into the face of the one noble from Norouz with all her strength. The eggshell shattered as it accurately struck the man's forehead and disgorged its putrid contents all over his face.

"People of Zefirous! Let us pay unto our lords exactly what they deserved! Do not throw stones! They need to suffer longer for their crimes!" added Varsha as she egged the people further.

The angry crowd needed no further agitation. They went to the carts and picked up rotten eggs, fruits, and vegetables, and hurled them towards the stage. The putrid stench intensified right away, as the dwarves and the mercenaries distanced themselves further away from the stage. Some of them with sharp noses like Reinhardt had long plugged their nostrils to spare themselves of unnecessary suffering.

Even when the nobles and priests were half-buried under rotting foodstuffs, the crowd's rage was yet to be sated. Then some of them had a bright idea and left the square… only to return while pushing a cart full of buckets of night soil.

Those men and women lifted the buckets with manic grins and dumped their contents all over the stage even as the dwarves and mercenaries retreated further away, unwilling to become collateral damage as crowd dumped bucket after bucket on the stage.

Eventually, some of the dwarves had enough when the filth began to flow their way and used magic to create an earthen rim around the stage. That did not stop the now enthusiastic crowd though, as they kept bringing more buckets of filth from all over the city and poured it in.

They only stopped when the night soil inside the earthen rim had completely drowned the five men inside, and the crowd finally dispersed in satisfaction.