The cobblestoned streets of Autumn and Summer Districts had been bestrewn by swarms of people of varied status, seemingly eager to make their way towards the center of the city. It was neither the motte and bailey castle where the Duke resided, that boasted its own moat and drawbridge, nor the capacious marketplace– the site where most of the city's revenue was generated that was situated beneath the citadel– that the city's denizens were rallying forth unto. Rather, it was the city square which was adjacent to the citadel on the opposite side of the marketplace, where said people were eager to vent their frustration as the day of reckoning they longingly anticipated for the past weeks had finally arrived. It was a queer sight, as if the citizens were lads and lasses yearning to visit the travelling circus that had chosen their village to squeeze gold for all their worth.