At first there were but a few. Later, a couple of dozen. And then they doubled.

As the lord mayor was enduring verbal rotten tomatoes at his latest town hall meeting, the revolutionary forces were growing at the same time. No wonder. The peasants are miffed at tax hikes double the inflation rate, local politicians playing footsie with absentee Airbnb owners and, above all, unwanted development.

Like, who asked for a honking big hotel to be erected in the middle of an Old Town residential ‘hood? Or hulking highrises to mushroom up in Glendale? And God forbid we discuss St. Davids’ notorious, evil roundabout.

It’s not a happy time to be an elected person in this bucolic burg. It seems that historic protest outside town hall last summer was more a harbinger than a one-off eruption.

Underneath the thriving tourism and wine economy is a citizenry wondering why developers always seem to get their way, why there aren’t any rentals in town, why property taxes have popped 15 per cent over two years, why town staff has swelled and why — to be heard — people had to stand outside and yell.

So, what’s needed?

“Change,” says Stuart McCormack. The one-time councillor, retired lawyer and emerging populist commander has decided it’s time to fight. “Twenty months to the next election,” he reminds. And so the NOTL Residents Association has been born. Stu’s Rangers. Look out.

Fifteen soldiers a month ago have turned into 30. Facebook page, social media and branding are coming. Some folks are offering financing.

“Clearly if people are willing to put money on the table,” McCormack says, “it tells you there’s obviously an issue, something that’s resonating in the community as to what’s going on and what’s not going on.”

The Rangers have a mission statement now. They have an org chart and a vision.

Goals include more transparency from council. A reliable and balanced budget. Protection of heritage buildings, the environment and agriculture. A more diverse economy. Appropriate growth. Tourism we can manage. And, hey, more young people — which means affordable places for families to live.

Says the foundation document: “We expect integrity, transparency and accountability from councillors, council staff and those seeking or holding contracts with them.”

The next step, McCormack says, is another org meeting. April, probably, Then an invitation for all residents to attend a broad open house, and see how many recruits muster up. After that, it’s all about preparing for the next election.

“If we’re dissatisfied with the current council and really want to effect change, we’ve got to find those who are willing to run. We’ve got to let people know about the job, to tell them what it is, how much work is involved, that it’s not a part-time thing. We need to identify candidates now. If you’re not happy and want change, and if you’re not prepared to do it, do you know someone who is?”

So, it begins. A battle for more open, responsive, appropriate governance for a wee town under pressure with 3.5 million visitors, lots of friendly, silky horses, $7-a-cup gelato, Manhattan-priced hotel rooms, cool houses, ravenous developers, Airbnbs galore and too many old, rich people (if you can ever have too many).

The mobilized citizens will identify candidates, endorse the good ones, hold public meetings and do report card rankings of local officials. They’re also committing to pumping out independent reports on the budgets, policies and tax edicts that flow from town hall.

It’s ironic those who have the most lasting, immediate and profound impact on citizens are usually inexperienced, unqualified, barely compensated and, like our Lordly Mayor, part-time.

The commander says we can do better. “There is obviously an issue. It’s time.”

Forward. To arms.