For a city that prides itself on its diversity, creative spirit, and artistry, the yoke of martial law is particularly onerous. With Barzillai Thrune’s inquisitors and dottari thugs growing increasingly aggressive in their enforcement of martial law—and his increasingly ridiculous proclamations—the undercurrent of revolution is building in the city. The atmosphere in Kintargo is tense. Numerous minor protests against Thrune have popped up, only to be quickly dispersed by dottari, Hellknights of the Rack imported from the south to aid in crowd control, or the local militia known as the Chelish Citizens’ Group. It’s been a week since Thrune seized control of the city, and the largest protest yet is gathering in Aria Park, just south of the Kintargo Opera House where Barzillai Thrune has made his new home. The day dawns with a light drizzle as dozens of Kintargans gather at the southern end of Aria Park, across the street from the opera house, to protest the paracount and his proclamations.
Even with the cobblestones of Argent Avenue and the foliage of Aria Park still wet from the morning’s light rain, dozens of Kintargans have gathered along the facade of the opera house to protest the city’s new lord-mayor. The city’s new leader was appointed by Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II, in the wake of the previous lord-mayor’s sudden flight from the city—an event that still has local rumormongers whispering furiously. In a scant seven days, Paracount Thrune has instituted martial law, a curfew, and seven outlandish and polarizing proclamations. These actions and more have called many of Kintargo’s dissatisfied citizens here on this overcast morn. There’s been no sign yet of Barzillai Thrune himself, and the opera house’s doors remain tightly closed—as they have since the man chose the landmark as his new home—but judging by the growing sound of the protesters, he surely can’t ignore the scene on the streets below much longer.
Some of the protesters call for their new lord-mayor to lift his unreasonable restrictions, while others call for an end to foreign rule and demand a proper election to determine Lord-Mayor Bainilus’s successor. Many seem content merely to yell and agitate, but a growing minority show their unabashed support of Barzillai Thrune by arguing back at the protesters. The crowd gathering in the market square consists of Kintargo partisans who despise Cheliax’s tightening grip on their city and demand local rule; economic conservatives who feel the squeeze as Thrune enacts new taxes and business policies; advocates of democracy whose bitterest complaint is Thrune’s appointment instead of legal election; anarchists who hope the protest turns into a good riot; and Chelish loyalists who support Thrune’s actions to curb the city’s dissentious streak.
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The man slipping through the crowd is about as forgettable as you can get. He's average height, slight of build and wearing the same sort of clothes worn by any other laborer in the crowd. It's only his reflexes, the way he reacts when jostled, the sudden way he jumps gracefully to the side to avoid bumping into other mob members. Other than that, he's as normal a person as you're likely to see.
Ganner wanders around the crowd, keeping his ears open for any tidbits or interesting gossip that he might be able to document and chronicle.
As more and more people come to Aria Park, Bardigan feels his blood begin to quicken in his chest as his heart begin to pound. This is their chance, their first real chance to bring to light how wrong Barzillai Thrune's Seven Proclamations are and to throw off the oppressive yoke that had been foisted upon the good people of Kintargo.
With budding courage, Bardigan catches his aunt's eye across the park and, with an encouraging nod, the young nobleman hops upon the stone around the fountain, his deep baritone voice carrying over the park and drawing the eyes of all those protesters who have gathered so far. With eloquence and fervor, he draws their disparate shouts and contentious cries together, focusing their ire upon the true root of the problem: the Opera House's current tenant and tyrant.
"Friends! Fellow Kintargans! I thought we could mark this Arodus the 21st as a day that is, sadly, a day that is no longer remembered by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and enjoy a fine show at our opera house or a warming cup of tea. There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak of this, of the injustices wrongly wrought upon our family and neighbors. I suspect that even now, orders are being whispered behind oaken doors and members of the Rack will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power! Words offer the means to meaning, and, for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this city, isn't there, my friends?!" Bardigan pauses for emphasis for a moment before gesturing toward the opera house and its curtained upper floors with a broad sweep of his hand. "I ask again, there is something terribly wrong in our fair home, isn't there my friends?!"
Standing just on the outside of the crowd, Jinx is very noticeable. She stands upright, separate from the people around her. This is both a choice and not particularly avoidable. See, Jinx is a tiefling - horns peek out of her brown hair and orange eyes glow in her face. A short tail sticks out of a roughly-hewn hole in her pants. Other than these and her weapon and armor, Jinx is quite plain. She mostly looks like a matronly 40-year old. Her hair is streaked here and there with grey, and her face is tired.
As people stream into Aria Park, Jinx scans each of them. As she's looking, though, movement from the Opera House catches her eye.
Interesting. She takes note of the watching figure and returns her attention to the park.
Jinx stands near the edge of the crowd, keeping a protective eye on Bardigan as he leaps up onto the fountain. She gives a little sigh - but she can't exactly blame him or pretend to be surprised. Instead, she continues to appraise the crowd, wanting to be ready for if anyone wishes to put her nephew in danger.
Larenti had a job to do: keep an eye on the Cain kid, and learn what you could about the folks doing the pushing and shoving. At least, that's why he was being paid to be here.
His eyes had another job: sweep this mass of shifting, moving people and find a specific, well-memorized face.
The slim half-orc moved through the crowd with ease, reaching vantage points just inside its growing circumference. He smiled as Bardigan jumped up on the fountain and began his speech. Well, it's never hard to keep an eye on him, he laughed to himself.
But where was she?
He couldn't help glancing up at the Opera House. It's closure meant he couldn't see her. Couldn't hear her. Wouldn't be able to have her eyes catch his in the audience and see how much...
He gasped, squinting up to a curtained window on the third floor. But his excitement faded.
No, it's probably not her, he thought, and sighed, disappointed.
He moved on again in the crowd. Perhaps she'd be here somewhere.
As the day moves on, the number of people at the protest begins to grow, and the general voice of the assembly grows louder and more discontent. Bardigan clearly has some of the attentions of the audience, but with more people showing up, who knows whether the newcomers will fall in with his statements.
Larenti snorted quiet derision at both the petty criminal and his victim. "A lowlife and his rube", he thought to himself. But he checked his own pouch nonetheless, tucking it tighter into his belt.
He thought for a moment about confronting the thief, retrieving the pouch and handing it back to a grateful citizen. But that'd as likely go wrong as right with either person, and besides...it'd be better if She could see him do it, and She didn't seem to be here.
Instead he kept watching the crowd, starting to worry about it's changing tenor. What's going on here... His natural curiosity pulled his concentration onto the words of those around him.
Ganner listens quietly, while not seeming to pay attention. He mentally adds this to his list of things to write up tonight when he arrives home. Since the disappearance of the Order, his nightly scribing sessions have been his touchstone, his link to the past. Even if they're never read, at least they will exist for posterity.
Ganner strolls through the crowd, pausing here and there to record in his mind the attitudes and feel of the many factions gathered here. He blends only briefly with each, long enough to hear, but not long enough to feel attached to any position. He constantly clears his mind, reminding himself that hearing a position does not require one to adopt that position, as the Iroran monks had taught him.
As more people are drawn to Aria Square, Bardigan can feel something in the air that makes his blood surge and the hairs on his arms stand on end. Something important was happening, something pivotal, and here he was, at the heart of it! And the attention, the agreement from the crowd, the nods of solidarity from faces he didn't even recognize, it all made Bardigan feel more a part of Kintargo than he ever had before. Today, he was sure, would matter. Both to him and to the city at large.
After drawing more responses from the people and encouraging folk to raise their voices over the din, Bardigan hopped down from his spot upon the edge of the fountain and began to weave his way through the crowd. He made special effort to steer his way toward those who most vocally supported him earlier, shaking their hands and thanking them for showing up when Kintargo needed them most. His broad shoulders, wavy hair, and flashing smile made him easy for Larenti to track through the growing crowd, but Bardigan seemed only focused on meeting and encouraging his fellow Kintargans. It showed in his, in the way he held his head and in the eagerness that sparkled in his lively eyes. In trying to save Kintargo from being strangled alive by her government, Bardigan was coming alive.
With the numbers of the crowd still growing, Bardigan began to hear conflicting voices clashing in the din. Some in support for Barzillai, others calling for his ouster. Fearful that such split focus and disunity would cause their protest to flounder before it really had a chance to make a difference, Bardigan hurried back to the fountain and drew the crowd's attention once more.
"Friends! My friends! Here we Kintargans are, before our once lovely opera house and what do we see but curtained windows and glowering guards! For what fair reason, eh? Our new mayor would say it is for our safety, our wellbeing! He would say the same for turning our sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers into rat-chasers, begging for coin from well-trussed members of the Rack! We cannot even drink our tea or delight in sharing sweets with our children! All for our ostensible safety! All for fear of the Great Reclamation!"
Bardigan pauses here, turning deliberately to make lasting eye contact with those who have dissented the protest or who he has heard supporting House Thrune. "I know why you support the new mayor." He points to the next naysayer and nods, "I know why you support him." Bardigan turns to the next, and the one following as well, "And I know why you say what you say. And the same for you. You voice your concerns not out of support for the mayor or his outlandish proclamations, but out of the seed of fear that has been planted in your minds! Our way of life in Kintargo has been enviable to any other within Cheliax's borders. Our homes have been safe, our children educated, our families fed! But conflict rages beyond our shining walls, the Great Reclamation roars in the distance, and there are those who would have you believe that those distant troubles threaten the lives of your loved ones and all those who might call this great city home."
"So to ensure your safety, he who now squelches the vital heart of Kintargo's artistry with his very residence, has offered unto you a deal: give him your rights, your way of life, and your quiet obeisance, and he in turn offers you safety. Safety from the things which he claims you should fear above all! I understand why you would do this, but it is only the unthinking and the cowardly who would continue in such a vein. You are smarter than to buy into such a scheme, braver than to cow to such a claim. You are the hands, the feet, the blood and breath of Kintargo and it is you who should determine the fate of our great home, not some festooned recluse with a wagging tongue and dripping pen! Stand with us! Stand now and let your voices join with those of your brothers and sisters."
"Do not stand idly by as Kintargo is swallowed up by a tyrant and left a hollow shell of her former self. The thing to fear is not some distance Reclamation, but rather a corruption that is with us here and now!" At this shout, Bardigan points toward the opera house across the way. As he turns back to the crowd, he can feel beads of sweat pooling at his temples and along his brow and, in a sudden and strange moment of clarity, realizes that he can't recall a single word he'd just uttered. He hopes it was good.
Jinx frowns. Separation from the crowd didn't really yield anything of note, so she immersed herself within it. She noted people avoiding her, but she wasn't looking to socialize. She counts on Bard to socialize enough for the both of them - she's looking to eavesdrop. Really, that's all.
Ganner moves through the crowd, listening closely and noting anything interesting he hears.
As the day moves on, more and more people seem to be crowding and gathering around the fountain and before the opera house. The protest as a whole appears to be getting closer to to building as well, slowly growing bolder in moving toward the dottari guards dotting the front of the edifice. They are either emboldened by their numbers, or forced to be pushed closer by the crowd alone.
Once again you make your voice heard above the din of the crowd, your determination in getting your desires or the city of Kintargo across, overshadow that of one of the other factions. Your words spark fire in some of the people, or cause them to disregard one of the other voices amongst the masses. The crowding of the plaza is growing tight, and you may not be able to step down from your makeshift pulpit at this time.
Ganner nods when he hears the rumors, his mind cataloging the factoid away. He continues, trying to stay close to thick parts of the crowd.
Larenti smiled at the darkly humorous rumor, but ignored it for now. He was more struck by the boss's kid.
That guy can talk! And he's right, too.
But taking on a couple of hundred loyalists backed by dottari seemed a bit rash. Larenti decided to circuit the crowd again, and get a better sense of whether this was about to turn ugly for the young Master Cain.
Gah! There are too many damn people here! he thought to himself as he struggled against the growing crowd.
From his spot upon the fountain, Bardigan continues to address the crowd, carried on by a tide of emotion and a building feeling of significance. Turning his attention to those in the crowd who seem to only want to stir up violence, the hopeful noble tries to talk them down as well.
"Apart from those of us here to see real change wrought in our fair city, to see justice restored and freedom at home in her streets, there are others here with an utterly different aim: one of violence and mayhem and blood. Fellow Kintargans, you only help Thrune by giving our self-proclaimed mayor more reason to draw the sword. Blood may well be shed, but senseless, aimless thuggery and anger serve no purpose and only hurt our cause."
Bardigan paces across the stones, gesturing to the crowd as he earnestly presses his point. "Stirring up a frenzy will only get your fellow Kintargans needlessly hurt, only ruin the homes and shops that will remain longer than Barzillai's reign! You only hurt yourself and your neighbor by pushing for such senselessness. No, my friends, there is a better way. Cajoling the crowd, faceless from within, is the coward's way. Stir your pride, your dedication, your duty and honor to this great city and stand beside your brothers and sisters. Together we can make Barzillai hear us, no matter how many opera houses he shuts down or how many oaken doors he closes. For it is not we, the good people of Kintargo, who should quiver in fear before our government. No, good friends, it is the other way 'round! It is Barzillai, any government which governs poorly, who should fear the people!"
The jostling crowd almost completely blocked Larenti's path, but he maintained progress with the help of firm politeness and a few well-placed elbows.
At least the throng seemed to be listening to the Cain kid.
He's right again. Don't do anything stupid! he thought.
Knowing that she's no good at talking, Jinx moves to talk to those who showed up to defend Thrune's reign.
"Uh, hey." she begins, standing behind a group of them. "Listen. This protest isn't for folks like you." almost absentmindedly, she puts her hand on the hilt of her sword. "It...would probably be better if you left so that the rest of us could actually...be productive."
The crowds continue to gather, and the press of bodies among the protesters is somewhat oppressive. Bardigan has been jostled, without ill intent, to the point of almost getting dumped into the fountain at least twice. Ganner is sandwiched within the crowd, while Jinx and Larenti find it difficult to even edge their way further into the outskirts of it. It is easily noticeable, that the tenor of the crowd has been growing increasingly hostile.
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Three minutes after the third hour, the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus ring out three peals for no apparent reason, as is the norm for these bells. The effect appears to work in his favor, as a moment later, Barzillai Thrune throws wide the windows and their curtains to address the crowd below.
Thrune is an imposing man dressed in red, orange, and black clothing and an ornate breastplate, all emblazoned with the pentagram of Asmodeus and the cross of Cheliax. Middle-aged, with short, dark hair and a diabolical mace cradled in his hands, the lord-mayor of Kintargo addresses the crowd with a condescending sneer. The gathering swiftly grows quiet as he clears his throat and gives the following short speech.
“Ah, my adoring little chickadees. I am sorry to say I have not yet adapted to your quaint, country ways, being accustomed as I am to the sophistication and learning of Egorian. Nonetheless, know I have heard your concerns, and that I appreciate your valued feedback, and I know we shall eventually find a mutual understanding in the fullness of time. I take pride in updating Kintargo’s quaint, outdated laws to the modern standards the city deserves, and strengthening its ties with the empire in these cruel times, but obviously I have approached my duties too aggressively."
“You say you chafe at the presence of nonnatives in positions of power? That authorities not of this city have no place as its leaders? That you will not be yoked by intruders? Your lord-mayor hears you. And so it is with a heavy heart that I issue this proclamation, in response to your demands: ”
At this latest proclamation, the crowd seems to be not sated, and actually even more incited with anger over the statement. Calls go out, and the crowd jeers and yells at the Lord-mayor.
At the mention of squassation, a flood of memories overcame Larenti. Momentary shock and horror was replaced by rage. His own rough voice joined the crowd in shouting insults at the Lord-mayor.
Ganner doesn't know what the term refers to, but he can recognize the horror and shock on the faces of those around him. He stiffens, suddenly feeling the mood of the crowd change from protest to something more definite. He starts to move, slowly and deliberately, toward the edges of the crowd, the better to remove himself should the mood turn violent.
As the crowd gets boisterous and bold in the face of the guard standing before the opera house, someone in the crowd throws a handful of manure at Barzillai. Though the putrid projectile misses Barzillai’s noble personage, the lord-mayor nonetheless flinches and spills wine across his ornate clothing. With his wardrobe and dignity endangered, the lord-mayor’s demeanor shifts. He shrieks, before retreating into the opera house and slamming the windows. Down below, the commander of the guard immediately mobilizes the dottari, who draw their weapons. At the same time, men and women throughout the crowd pull back their cloaks, revealing matching armbands, truncheons, and the sadistic grins of Chelish Citizens’ Group members eager to mete out some 'justice.' At this point the whole of the space before the lord-mayor's claimed residence turns into a full-scale riot.
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Leaping down from his place atop the fountain, Bardigan slips and pushes his way through the press of bodies and makes his way toward the nearest of the thugs. He taps the brute on the shoulder roughly to get his attention, and as the man turns to regard him, Bardigan greets him with a heavy right cross. "For Kintargo! Down with Barzillai! Down with Thrune!"
HP: 10/10
AC: 16 (12 T / 14 FF)
CMD: 15
F/R/W: +4/+2/+3
Hellfire strikes used: 0/3
Eldritch Pool used: 0/5
Lvl 1 Spell Slots used: 0/2
Ongoing Effects
Larenti saw the armbands and truncheons and it only fueled his rage. He pulled his dagger to hamstring the closest thug, planning to steal that club, along with the bastard's smug look.
"Oh bother." Ganner looks around quickly, realizing he's gone and violated rule #3: always maintain awareness of the situation before it goes awry. Now he's in the story instead of reporting it. This won't do at all. Seeing no good way out of it, he shrugs and punches the thug next to him, twice!
for damage!
for damage!
Jinx frowns. Violence wasn't the best way to solve any problem - protesting citizens included. Violence certainly wasn't something that would solve the problems' with the Chelish citizens' group... but something had to be done to defuse them or they would hurt a lot of innocent people.
She'd have liked to call on Iomedae for help, but it turns out that of the the crowd very near her was one of the instigators. "Bardigan!" she calls, as her longsword flashes into the sunlight. "Get back here, closer to me!"
She swings at the thug, and notices another leaping into battle alongside her - fighting unarmed and unarmored. Hmm....Foolish.
Larenti reacts quickly to the threat of the thugs, drawing a blade and slashing out at the nearby man. He delivers a sturdy cut to the man, who turns and looks at him with a mix of anger and excitement.
Jinx draws her blade and lashes out at the one near her, but her concern for her reckless nephew tempers her swing, and as such it falls short of its mark.
Even as Jinx calls him to come closer, Bardigan hops down from his fountain pedestal and moves away instead, leveling a heavy-handed blow to the jaw of the thug nearest him.
Just as he sees the thug nearest Jinx prepare to raise his truncheon against the distracted woman, Ganner plows a fist into the man's stomach, easily breaking a rib. This is followed by a sharp right to the temple. The man crumples under the blows into an bloody unconscious heap on the cobbles of the park.
From the chaos, a blade flies from the crowd to strike the commander hard in the throat.
The thug punched by Bardigan, brings his truncheon back on the upswing, and bashes Bardigan in the shoulder. The blow makes his arm go temporarily numb, before feeling the pins and needles. A second nearby thug moves into the fray, and his weapon glances off Bardigan's armor.
While the thug beaten by Ganner bleeds profusely on the cobblestones, the one slashed by Larenti turns and pulls no punches when he smacks the half-orc right back with steady blow to the chest.
The commander, Nox as called by the lord-mayor, snarls as she yanks the blade from her neck. The wound swiftly begins to close as she turns and darts into the opera house. A few of the dottari close ranks to cover her exit.
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Ganner stops, breathing hard as the thug falls unconscious. He suddenly looks up and sees who is across from him. "Miss Fabre? What are you doing here?!?"
Jinx's eyes flick over the form of the unarmed man in true recognition. She flicks her head towards Bardigan, brawling with several of the thugs. "I'm keeping an eye on family." she says. "You?"
Bardigan shakes the numbness from his arm and offers the thug that struck him a respectful nod, acknowledging the strike. "I'll be feeling that for a few days yet, no doubt." Caught up in the rush of the protest and hardly thinking, let alone hearing his aunt's shouts over the din, the jocular noble has enough to sense to tighten up his defenses, but the press of the crowd spoils his own follow-up punch.
HP: 10/10 // 7 nonlethal
AC: 18 (14 T / 14 FF)
CMD: 15
F/R/W: +4/+2/+3
Hellfire strikes used: 0/3
Eldritch Pool used: 0/5
Lvl 1 Spell Slots used: 0/2
Ongoing Effects
fighting defensively: -4 to hit, +2 AC
Ganner smiles. "Mere curiosity, I'm afraid. I didn't expect violence!"
Larenti yelled at the wound given him by the thug, and he quickly tugged out his rapier to raise the stakes even further.
The jostling crowd kept Larenti from bringing his weapon to bear. He was left out of position for the thug's reposte, and time began to slow down as he saw the truncheon rise.
Jinx scoffs. "You don't know House Thrune well enough if you didn't expect violence."
She stares down the thug in front of her, unconscious on the ground. "Especially with the Chelish Citizens' Group around." She then turns her attention towards Bardigan and the opponents he faces. She moves towards him through the crowd, grasping her holy symbol of Iomedae through her pocket. "Oh Inheritor, please send a holy servant to guide us through this battle."
As she prays, a light glow appears behind one of the thugs fighting Bardigan. When the glow subsides, a small but muscular dog is there. The dog gnashes its teeth and lunges at the thug, its little dog eyes and little dog teeth honing in on the malevolence within the thug.
Larenti attempted to pull his weapon to bear on the thug, but the press of the chaotic crowd caused him to be bumped and jostled to the point that he couldn't bring the thing to bear. At least he had one to hand, but he didn't the pointy end as close to the enemy as he hoped, and now things could get bleak.
With her nephew in peril, Jinx gives up the casual conversation with Ganner to move through the crowd toward Bardigan. She begins to focus her concentration on a space nearby and subsequently into the outer planes. She works to recall the true name of a denizen of the planes of good to assist her nephew.
Bardigan takes the hard hit, and decides to switch to a more blocking style, keeping his left arm up defensively to protect his head and chest. Doing so, he plays it too cautiously, and whiffs a short jab at the thug. Too short to have any effect.
Considering themselves to have the upper hand in the two on one fight against Bardigan, the two thugs once again have a go at him with their truncheons. The one that has been trading blows with the man comes close, just barely glancing of the edge of Bardigan's armor. The second one, however, just can't seem to be of any use. Once again his weapon goes wide.
The one facing Larenti, likes his odds, and seems to enjoy having the half-orc at a bit of a disadvantage as well. Raising his weapon at the overreaching man, he comes down just as the crowd shifts, and is just shy of of clobbering him, but most of the force is deflected by Larenti's armor.
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Ganner looks to the north where he notices two people ganging up on a single fellow. The fellow looks familiar, but... It's hardly fair to double team a single man. He steps 10 ft north and launches a fist at the thug! for nonlethal damage.
Bardigan, strangely, grows tremendously calm as the second thug's strike falls short. Perhaps it is the atmosphere, the surge of euphoric thrill at being in the midst of something so tumultuous, or something else entirely, but the dashing man with a gift for oratory finds the cacophonous crowd quieting and the frantic motion of the riot and his assailants slowing. As the world seems to slow down, he tries to shore up his defenses even further before launching a heavy right cross at one of his attackers.
HP: 10/10 // 7 nonlethal
AC: 16 (12 T / 14 FF)
CMD: 15
F/R/W: +4/+2/+3
Hellfire strikes used: 0/3
Eldritch Pool used: 1/5
Lvl 1 Spell Slots used: 1/2
Ongoing Effects
spell combat: -2 to hit
Mystic focus: 1/2 rounds
Larenti let out a grunt as the thug's truncheon bounced off his armor. He pivoted slightly and used his wrist to bring a quick jab back under his opponent's outstretched arm.
Jinx's call to the planes is answered by a dog with bright golden-hued fur. The thing snaps at the thug before it, biting hard into the back of the man's thigh.
As he is about to assist the man being ganged up on, Ganner sees a dog magically appear behind him and bring him down. With both the dog and the man facing as ingle thug, he turns his attention to the next closest. A thug trading blows with a lone half-orc. Ganner moves up and cracks the man hard in the shoulder of the arm wielding the truncheon.
The man just punched is startled by the act, which is just enough to leave himself open to a rapier in the thigh. He gasps in pain at Larenti's strike, and drops to the ground holding his leg before passing out.
The dottari, seeing the fight continue, decide to close ranks along the front of the building, as two of their number wade into the crowd after the rioters.
One of them closes on the glowing dog, and swings his heavy mace at the celestial being. He just manages to hit the thing in the hip, but just with the end of his weapon, and not as much force as he intended. The second Dottari, tries to circle around toward the loudmouth from the fountain earlier.
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Jinx shifts forward in the crowd. "Bard, the dottari are getting involved! I think it might be time to think about leaving." as she moves, she focuses ever so subtly on the remaining thug facing her cousin. She murmurs a divine phrase under her breath and just for a few seconds the thug feels his muscles weaken and his breath leave him.
Then she tenses her arm and raises her sword in preparation for any enemy closing to melee with her. "Go, I'll cover you!"
Her celestial dog continues to attack the thugs threatening Bardigan, after the first fell to its assault.
Ganner's eye flick from Jinx to the man shes's addressing, to the half-orc beside him. "I think this rally has become an unhealthy place to be!" He lashes out at the thug in a flurry!
for damage!
for damage!
Jinx manages to string a line of words together that seem to drain the fight from the remaining thug, but just briefly. Even with the energy leaving him, the summoned dog just can't get a good bite on the man, especially with the dottari harrowing it.
It is enough, however, for Bardigan to come around with a beautiful cross, clocking the thug hard in the jaw. The man reels from the blow, but isn't quite down for the count.
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Ganner will take the time to attempt to stop the thug's bleeding.
Seeing his adversary fall to the sharpened end of the half-orc's blade, Ganner attempts to staunch the flow of blood spilling out from the man. He is unsuccessful in doing so, as the man continues a slow trickle.
The last remaining thug, somewhat wobbly on his feet, continues to swing at Bardigan. His swing is weak and his vision a little starry from the punch he just took, causing the blow to go wide.
Despite Ganner's failed attempt at stopping the blood flow, the wound itself was small enough to actually clot on its own without Ganner's help.
-------------------
Ganner looks up from the unconscious man. He sees the remaining thug still fighting and moves to J-15, around the fountain. He swings at the man, flanking with the strangely glowing dog. for damage.
"Listen, you don't know me," he murmurs to the well dressed man, apparently with Jinx, "But I think it's past time to be moving on, don't you?"
Larenti looked down at the fallen thug, surprised at the blood from the weak thrust of the rapier. His arm instinctively went up to prepare a killing blow, but he stayed his hand as a stranger stepped in to help the bleeding man.
Growling slightly, he remembered the boss's son, and spun around to catch sight of Bardigan. Surrounded by a thug and a dottari, the kid looked in trouble.
Larenti ran to help, splashing through the fountain and hoping to knock the dottari on the back of his head, distracting him from Bardigan.
The water was deeper than he thought and his soggy, stumbling strike merely splashed some water on the dottari's boots.
"They're free to leave, you dog! Back to your line, and your master! he shouted at the guard.