The peasantry of the island-nation of Morsopia was in a great level of discontent. Few could remember when such squabbles had happened with such frequency. Muggings near daily, murders coming twice or thrice a week, but so far all crimes commited by and towards peasants.

"What if the crimes prove to be the foretelling of more heinous crimes in the future, sire?"

"Hm?" The King looked up from his three steak dinner in which he was most enthralled. The King was a portly man. Portly might actually be underselling it if truth be told and was always to be found clad in the most magnificent of robes made of the finest fabrics and encrusted with jewels and precious metals, "What by the moons of Falrath could you possibly mean?"

"I am just saying," the man, an advisor to the King, continued with not undo nervousness. This man, in contrast with the king, was slender and wearing robes that were clean if unexceptional. "What if these minor crimes, the mugging and murder of other peasants, were simply the early signs of something worse. Of unrest amongst the peasantry that could lead to full blown riots or even an attempt at revolution?"

"What of it? We'll just kill any rioters and kill any attempted revolutionaries."

"With all due respect sir, that could exacerbate the situation."

"Oh will you just fuck off before I have you executed? At least bother me with this nonsense when I am finished with dinner."

"Yes, sire." The adviser bowed quickly and hurried out.

To be continued, if I get bored again and feel like continuing it.