The shops and homes that enclose the town square are decorated with limp, tattered garlands and painted wooden boxes filled with tiny, dead flowers. At the north end of the square stands a row of stocks, locked in which are several men, women, and children wearing crude, plaster donkey heads.

In the center of the square, peasants in patchwork clothes eye you suspiciously as they use cups and vases to draw water from a crumbling stone fountain. Standing tall at the center of the fountain is a gray statue of an impressive man facing west. All around the square are posted proclamations:

COME ONE, COME ALL,

to the greatest celebration of the year:

THE FESTIVAL OF THE BLAZING SUN!

Attendance and children required.

Rain or shine.

ALL WILL BE WELL!

—The Baron—

Under threatening skies, a parade of unhappy children dressed as flowers trudges through the muddy streets, leading the way for a group of sorry-looking men and women carrying a ten-foot-diameter wicker ball. The burgomaster and his smiling wife, who holds a sad bouquet of wilting flowers, follow the procession on horseback. Vyktor and Chokahr-the Baron's advertised heroes with "Good News"-ride horses behind them.

As weary spectators watch from their stoops, the ball is borne to the town square. There, it is hoisted and hung from a fifteen-foot-high wooden scaffold, and townsfolk take turns splashing it with oil. Before the wicker sun can be set ablaze, the sky tears open in a sudden downpour.

"All will be well!" cries the burgomaster as he brandishes a sputtering torch and marches defiantly through the rain toward the wicker ball, only to have his torch go out as he thrusts it into the sphere.

A singular laugh erupts from the crowd, drawing the burgomaster's fiery gaze as well as gasps from the townsfolk. The crowd autonomously parts like the Red Sea to reveal the culprit. It is one of the town guards, a middle aged man.

"Hey! Look! The festival's started," calls Minty hopefully. "I didn't see that start."

"...I wonder what that man is laughing about, though?" Ceila pondered.  Her hand was near her blade, but it always was; this land was dangerous at all times, as nearly as she could determine.

Ms Softhand says to Elma, Celia being close enough to hear,"Is there nothing normal about this place, Elma? Can't we even have a party in peace?" She looks around for potential hiding places or deeper shadows.

“I do not think his laughter will go unpunished,” Jun Jia said, watching the scene unfold with concern. The Burgomaster clearly proved himself a mad man. She felt certain the guard would pay dearly.

One of the guards did it. He should know better. His fellow guards are aghast at the ill-timed outburst.

The burgomaster's face is blood red. "Arrest him for spite!" And the four nearest guards pounce on the man, binding him ankles and wrists.

It seems they will tie him to the burgomaster's horse to be dragged through the mud.

What will you do?

Nothing yet. I'm not the law around here.

Well, that was enough.  An Oath was an Oath; this wasn't justice.

"How will you punish a man for laughing?" Ceila called.  "What penalty does the law call for?"

Jun Jia stepped up alongside Ceila. She kept her face and body language as non-threatening as possible. Jia watched the guard and Burgomaster with a pleasant half-smile. She waited for their reply.

Burgomaster Baron Vargas Vallakovich was clearly shocked. A second outburst????

Laughing at him was one thing, but arguing against his will? Against his infallible word???

He was tongue-tied, holding his breath as he struggled to find words to explain to you the things that he has never had to explain before. The guards continued to tie up the victim---I mean, perpetrator.

Finally Vargas spoke. In sign language. He pointed at the statue in the middle of town square. The one that apparently was his great-grandfather. There was no resemblance.

"I am the law. He will not be killed, merely an example. Just a bit of dragging through the mud. Let's all laugh at Lars, shall we? Everyone laugh."

The crowd all turned their heads back and forth, confused as ever, now we are supposed to laugh? The punishment for laughing at the Baron is laughing at the laugher???

The guards had finished tying Lars and handed the Baron his end of it. He looked at you, holding his breath again.

Laugh?

“Burgomaster, Laughter brings joy and eases the hearts of a community. You are wise in recognizing this.” Jun Jia smiled pleasantly, hands open. “Surely a Noble man of your experience and wisdom can recognize the possibility that the man laughed with you, rather than at you? If so, does a man who joins you in good-natured laughter deserve punishment on this great day of celebration?”


OOC:

19:12, Today: Jun Jia rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Persuasion.

Minty remains in the shadows.