A crowd had gathered on the outskirts of the lizardkins' camp site. Morgan wondered if the civilians were just bored and had nothing to do, or were there more sinister motives. A few were holding pitchforks and lumber axes, but those could just as well be from people who had come curious from their work. At the moment, the masses seemed content to simply shimmy about, investigative murmurs floating through the air.

Morgan was about to ask for the crowd to make way, but a woman had turned to her and gasped at her face loud enough to cause a chain reaction, one that turned head after head towards her. Each look followed a step back from the body of the shocked, parting the path clear to let her through.

For the first time in a long while, she let out an annoyed sighed as she walked through the opening like a messenger of the queen. As used to the reactions she got at the deformity that she was, the scale of reaction from large crowds still got to her, tightening her chest and flashing her mind back to the days of her youth. But the parting sea did get her through into the camp site unhindered.

‟Let us by, I say!” she heard the familiar voice shout.

Coming out into the open space, she finds Curoi with sword drawn against a line of lizardkins. Behind the knight were a couple of villagers, including Mayor Soira.

‟You have nothing on usss!” a lizardkin yelled back. He was armed with a spear, the only one with a proper weapon. The others were craftsmen, wielding hammers and small knives. ‟We won't hand one of oursss to you without evidenccce.”

‟That's it!” One of the villager shouted and pointed to a lizardkin hiding behind their kin. ‟That's the thief right there! It stole my equipment!”

Curoi commanded the lizardkin, ‟You will have to come with us while the guards investigate.”

The knight took a step forward.

The lizardkins raised their guard.

Without thinking, Morgan strode between the two side, summoning her sword into her hand in a spiral of black smoke. Both side froze their movement at the sight of her.

‟Morgan...” Curoi noted. ‟What are you doing?”

‟That's my question. We don't draw swords on civilians.”

‟They're not civilians.”

‟What are they, then?” Morgan asked, the grip on her sword tightening. ‟Refugees? Immigrants? Soldiers?”

‟No.”

‟So something else? Villains? Monsters?”

Curoi did not reply to that question. ‟There's a thief amongst them. The Woodsman. He's to be arrested and tried.”

‟Ssslander!” Woodsman shouted.

A townsman shouted, ‟If you're innocent, come with us and be judged. What are you afraid of?”

Both sides began screaming at each other. The commotion was enough that Kin Fisher was being helped along to the scene by a member of her tribe. The voices quietened down as the wizen elder stepped onto the field.

‟We cannot be judged by you, not yet,” Fisher's voice boomed despite her demure size. ‟There are no court in your world that would treat usss with the equality you'd do for one of your own.”

‟With all due respect,” Soira cracked in. ‟You cannot say you want to be part of our society if you're not willing to participate in our laws!”

‟Enough!” Curoi exclaimed before the conversation could devolve into a shouting match again. ‟We will conduct the investigations our way.”

He continued walking talking towards the lizardkins, all of whom readied their makeshift weapons. The lizardkins had no intention of backing down. At first, Morgan thought the act of defiance would cause Curoi to reflect, but when the man continued to close in without any hesitation, she knew it was time to act. He had the eyes of a soldier.

This time, she stepped cleanly before his path, and by instincts, raised her sword in his direction.

Curoi's eyes scrunched in anger. ‟Out of the way, Morgan.”

‟This isn't some random street crime,” she teethed back. ‟You make a wrong move and the entire tribe will be fighting back.”

‟A tribe of thieves and murderers.”

‟We don't know that.”

He huffed derisively. ‟Figured you'd take their side.”

‟I'm not taking anyone's side.”

‟Says the monster.”

She was not sure if she struck first, or if her reflexes were just that quick to parry, but their two blades met in a rising, striking spark of contact. They stepped away, with Curoi's right-handed swordsmanship a mirror of her own. They used the same weapon, a side sword, and were taught by the same master. On the same cut back, the edge of their blades scraped against the others' cross-guard. Curoi was faster however, and his third strike came at a speed that forced Morgan to raise her sword to block instead of attack. But in return, she was stronger, and the moment their third strike clashed, she took a step forward and leaned into the weak leverage of the blade.

Curoi refused to be pushed back, and raised his legs against her as leverage. She dug in her footing as he stomped onto her knees with a crack, the force launching them apart. She felt the tendons in her joint where he kicked struggling to hold and worried they might pop apart or her bones would dislocate. That slight hesitation gave her opponent another opening, and the more experienced knight flew at her with a thrust.

It was fast as an arrow piercing the air, and she barely managed to dodge the piercing attack, jumping to her left and leaving her right side exposed. Curoi slashed backwards straight for her neck. Without another option, she raised her calloused right arm out of her cape and took the strike on her hardened forearm. A gasped came from the crowd at the sights of her stoneskin appendage taking the full force of a sword swing. She had forgotten the crowd was there, and they had too apparently, as all their breath were held back with bate.

Though the blade cut into the hardened skin, it did not draw blood from the veins deep within. She could feel the metal on it, though just a tingle, instead of the cold death she otherwise would with her left.

She twisted her shelled arm, overpowering the green knight's grip just enough that she could twist her hand around and grab the blade. With the resistant skin of her mutated hand, she yanked the weapon out of Curoi's hand without a cut on hers.

Morgan blinked.

Curoi's feet were now at her eye level. The male knight had jumped and was delivering a dropkick clean into her face, the force was enough to send her off her feet, airborne. Her grip on their weapons loosened as she crashed into the ground, dropping his sword and hers.

Quickly, she rolled to her feet as Curoi grabbed his sword and rushed at her. She reach her hand out and summoned her sword back in a cloud of dark magic just in time to intercept the attack.

‟ENOUGH!” Merylin's voice thundered.

Morgan broke away from Curoi and the two knights stopped their attacks, but neither lowered their weapons as Merylin trudged over to them.

‟Lae Merylin,” Curoi exclaimed. ‟The situation here-”

‟I know the situation, and you're both idiots!” The old knight barked back. ‟The two of you are a disgrace to the uniform.”

Morgan didn't want to or have a particular need to talk back. She felt the situation was far beyond the honour of their outfits. If the old knight is capable of resolving the tension without further aggression, Morgan would drag her title through mud if needed be.

‟Knight Merylin,” Fisher voiced out. ‟How would you suggessst we resssolve the current sssituation?” Not a hint of trepidation was in the voice of the elder despite the fight.

The old knight gave a pause to think before suggesting, ‟We'll have to look through your camp, Kin Fisher, for any suspect items. It's naught but a distraction from the real investigation, but I don't see another way to resolve this peacefully.”

‟A fair judgement,” Fisher agreed. ‟Though I don't think it would defussse the air much.”

‟It's the best I can come up with,” Merylin added, ‟If we find any stolen objects, I'll have no choice but to allow the town's guards to arrest who they need.”

‟No need!” an excited and boisterous voice exclaimed.

The crowd was immediately captivated. All the key political players were on the stage already, so no one expected another to step forward. But step forward Sherl Octavia did, sliding her way through the lizardkins' line with an eased - though annoyed - expression, as if she was a teacher that had been called on her day off to settle a childish squabble.

‟Detective,” Merylin greeted. ‟Do you have something to add.”

‟Oh yes, verily.” The last word rolled off her tongue dramatically. ‟I've already discovered three pouches of valuables in the lizardkins' camp.”

The lizardkins turned to her in shock and Morgan could not help but wonder what the woman was up to, antagonizing the tribe further.

Sherl looked to the victimised townsman. ‟Which one of the item is yours? An iron axe, a silver pocketwatch, or a sack of gold jewelries?”

‟W-what?” The townsman seemed caught off-guard.

‟Come on, now. Chop chop! I don't have all day.”

‟The... the jewelries!” the man confirmed.

Sherl grinned. ‟Interesting.”

‟Sherl,” Morgan pushed, slightly annoyed at the delayed showmanship. ‟What are you doing?”

‟See, I lied somewhat. The axe and pocketwatch? Definitely exists. But a whole sack of jewelries? Well, that's nowhere here, I can assure you.”

The crowd turned to the man, who now gained a look of fear in his eyes. ‟I... I misspoke! I meant the pocketwatch. Yeah! That's the one.”

The detective's smile turned sly. ‟Well, I lied about that too.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd as the lizardkins wore unreadable expression against their accuser. Finally, Curoi lowered his blade, followed quickly with Morgan dematerializing hers.

Merylin let out a long sigh before booming her voice. ‟Guards, hold that man at the town hall until we can get to the bottom of this. Knights, I want to search the camp for anything that may look stolen. Everyone else, back to your homes. The show is over!”

At first, none of the townspeople moved, at least not until the guards brought the accuser away and free knights began shuffling the populace off.

Merylin then called on Curoi accusatorily. ‟Head to the inn. We're going to have words. Morgan, you'll be next.”

Curoi wore a complex stiff expression, one that could be anger, acceptance, or conviction all at once. But he did follow orders with a salute before heading for the inn, mumbling under his breath, leaving Morgan, Sherl, Merylin, and Fisher alone within the dispersing crowd.

Fisher spoke first. ‟I mussst thank you, detective, for the quick thinking.”

‟Yes,” Merylin agreed. ‟Your little stunt really diverted the heat for now.”

Sherl, though looking strangely proud of the praises, spoke with a serious tone. ‟That won't last. I did spend time in the camp, and found nothing of the sort that fits the description of stolen goods.”

‟That doesn't mean it didn't happen.”

Morgon chimed in, ‟Or someone is fanning the flames of discontent.”

Merylin looked ready to rant at the knight for daring to speak up after the fight she just pulled, but held back at the logic. ‟Double up the pace of the investigation. I feel like someone just set a barrel of gunpowder down here.” She turned to the elder lizardkin. ‟Mind if I escort you back to a resting area, Kin Fisher? I would like to discuss some matters on altering guard rotations.”

‟Much appreciated, Knight Merylin,” Fisher bowed.

‟Morgan, the inn in an hour. We're not done.”

The two then left Sherl and Morgan alone in the now near empty patch.

The detective was the first to speak. ‟Nice holding them back, Miss Knight,” she prodded.

‟I don't see how this is a joking matter.”

‟I'm not jesting. If you had not held the mob at bay, I would not have gotten here in time.”

‟Were you investigating?”

‟Deducing.”

‟What are you thinking?” Morgan asked honestly and to the chase.

Sherl replied with equal bluntness. ‟I think someone is trying to stir up something worse than the killings to divert attention from the murders.”

The knight could see the detective's line of thinking, but partly felt it far-fetched and almost conspiratorial. Besides, ‟What could be worse than serial murders?”

The detective shrugged. ‟I don't know, but another war with the lizardkins would be pretty high up on my list.”