This is where it all began.
It is midday, with a partially overcast sky, neither warm, nor cold. Everyone you see is wearing clothing that would shield them from the rain, should the rain return, but the skies appear to be clear.
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, Paracount Barzillai Thrune. 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.
There are eight Dottari Guards along the front of the building to dissuade any attempts to move into the Opera House along with a single woman with steely silver eyes - lacking pupils - who appears overdressed for the occasion with her small arsenal of throwing axes, knives and polearm. Aside from the woman, who looks patently bored, the guards all seem to be agitated and anxious. At the moment there are only fifty or so people, but there seems to be a steady stream of people.
As you arrive on the scene, you hear one particularly boisterous individual call "Cheliax don't have no right to rule in Kintargo! We don't want foreigners controlling our city!" about half of the crowd seems to back up that sentiment, momentarily, while the other half yell back. Before long, all of the yelling will be useless, as folks fight to have their voices heard over the din.
Jack would consider joining in on the protest, but—not yet. He's got other reasons to be here, and has no interest in standing out more than he has to. Instead, he leans against a wet tree (though he's more familiar with the Aria Park lake), casually juggling two blunt metal hoops without much effort or skill. Occasionally, he shouts a "Yep!" or "Hear!" in with the crowd.
Rakhel has an easy time of maneuvering through the milling throng as if it were parting for her, though in truth it doesn't look like anyone intentionally moves out of her way. She seems to be constantly craning her neck as if looking for someone or something...
When the shouting breaks out, she winces slightly as if the loud voices wer grating on her ears... hard to say whether it's the voice itself or the message she finds unpleasant. She doesn't seem to get caught up in the mood of the crowd though...
Using her small size and lithe frame to her advantage, Kesin is weaving through the people effortlessly.
I'm here too early, much too early...what did I expect at this time?
Picking out one of the Chellish supporters looking rich and fat, Kesin attempts to liberate some of his coin.
Not why I am here...but a girls got to eat, right?...
Lia clenches her fist as she watches the Dottari at the far end of the park. Dressed in black & red, strong of jaw and eying the crowd with a mix of contempt and worry... it's almost enough to put a smile on her face.
She wasn't normally like this. On any other day, she'd just go to work with her head held high and her mind free of political nonsense. She'd step through the doors of the Kintargo Opera House, greet the receptionist, then head backstage to get herself ready for rehearsals for the day. No matter what sort of day it was, be it rainy, sunny or in the aftermath of a good party, she'd pull herself together and face the world as best she could. Her parents would be proud of her work ethic.
Except now, her workplace has been invaded by an upstart and turned into his domain, leaving her out of work. That's not something that Lia could just let stand. No matter how she looked at it, it was simply a new form of censorship. She armed herself with her mother's sword & a knife, and made sure to wear her chain shirt to the protest. She anticipated things would turn ugly.
When the yelling begins, she waits for a lull before she makes her voice heard as well.
"Why should Kintargo have to pay for YOUR mistakes, Thrune?!"
Rakhel notes the young lady with the loud, clear voice, and thinks, before considering her actual words, she has a voice that projects well, she should be on the stage! Then she looks to the crowd to see their reaction to the most recent vocal protest.
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Adonara looks up at the overcast sky as she moves through the gathering crowd, tugging her cloak around her as if to keep it out of people's way, but not entirely incidentally covering that much more of her armour. At least it's stopped raining for now, she thinks, glad that at least the dense wool and boiled leather will keep out the worst of it if the heavens decide to open up again.
The armour would not be her first choice, but she has an idea of how Chelish authorities are likely to respond if the protest shows much energy, and her vanity takes comfort in the fact that the armour is fitted very well indeed, not like for some common soldier making do with whatever comes off the rack. As she finds a place to watch under a convenient tree, Adonara is confident that she manages the "ranger" look quite handily.
Keeping an eye open for anyone she might recognize, she takes note of any trees and bushes that might give her cover if she wants to move around discreetly, before focusing on the woman who seems to be leading the Dottari, wondering if she's quite as bored as she looks, or if something else is brewing.
Jack
You've gathered a rather small crowd of onlookers. Sizable, considering that you aren't currently performing, but you've certainly become a person of interest amongst the small crowd, due to your obviously exotic ties, and water-friendly dress. The small crowd makes it difficult to see anything going on, and besides, with your adoring fans nearby, what more is there to see?
Rakhel
Rakhel's easy navigation of the crowd, while lucky, also provides several surprisingly clear sight-lines. The Dottari aren't alone as it were. A woman in similar dress, though hellishly ugly, and armed to the teeth as a walking arsenal stands in front of the main doors.
Meanwhile, two floors up, you can see a figure standing behind a thin veil overlooking the crowd. You can make out what appears to be a wine glass, held at shoulder height, while the figure seems to be looking down upon the crowd.
Kesin
You easily weave your way through the crowd, like a shark in calm waters. The majority of the crowd doesn't seem to notice you, and those that do don't give you a second glance - the typical response to a young street urchin. Easier to pretend not to notice. You keep your eyes on the crowd, looking for your mark, when you finally find it. A man in reds-and-black embroidered robes near the back of the crowd, sitting comfortably on a bench... all eyes on the crowd.
As you swoop in, you manage to lithely snip his purse - resting lightly on the edge of the bench within easy reach. The man doesn't even seem to notice you, though the sneer across his face as he watches the crowd, along with his clothes leave no question as to whose side he's on. You happen to catch sight of a signet ring with a stylized S on the hand nearest his coinpurse, before slipping away to the fountain with your prize. It weighs a lot less than you had expected it to, given the mark's obvious money.
Lia
A few of the citizens seem to recognize you, and offer you smiles as you move around. Your upcoming position within the opera-house being well-known in the proper circles.
Adonara
The woman you're looking upon doesn't seem to have the self-awareness to hide much of what she's feeling, though the disgust written plainly on her face doesn't give you any particular ideas of what disgusts her. From the number of lethal accoutrements she bears, it's quite unlikely that she's balking at her job, however.
* * *
Each of you is getting a fair amount of attention (in some cases, quite fleeting), though the reasoning and people involved vary. For now, no one in particular seems to have a better grip on the protest as a whole, leaving the whole thing a din of chaos.
What sort of impression does the crowd get from you?
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Repressing the impulse to pull a face to answer the heavily-armed guardswoman’s disgust, Adonara is glad that things look relatively calm, for now. Turning back to the gathering crowd, she decides that now would be the time to get a feel for its mood, and with a hint of a mysterious smile on her lips, she puts her skills to use. She strolls casually among the small knots of people in which like-minded folks gather, exchanging polite greetings and a word or two about what brings them to the park, and keeps her ears open even as she moves on.
She seems to move more or less at random, but a careful observer might note that she eventually gravitates towards somewhere between the more serious partisans of Kintargo, and the rowdier, more anarchically-inclined folks. She lets others do most of the talking, occasionally asking quietly for more information about points that indicate that she’s far from unaware of some of the nuances of the situation, but also - demurely, to be sure, and with due attention to what everyone’s actually here for - but some of her interlocutors are convinced of it, flirting.
On the whole, Adonara gives the impression of a sophisticated, if somewhat eccentric, gentry woman - not noble herself, but used to rubbing shoulders with at least the lower order of aristocrats. She could be a gentlewoman with an enthusiasm for archery who took a detour through the park, and she seems to keep up easily with the gossip about the fashionable set. It's just conceivable that someone could remember her from a Villegre coffee house or the nicer sort of night spot in Jarvis End, though she would have been in a nice dress, then, rather than hunting leathers.
Despite the pouch being lighter than she expected, Kesin knows better than to be greedy. One takes what is needed, everything else would just be inviting trouble. Getting away from the scene calmly yet surprisingly quick, she counts her newfound riches, concealing the act of doing so as good as she can, placing the coins in one of the hidden pockets her torn clothing has.
When she is done, she will observe the swelling crowd. Gauge the people, and trying to guess where she may get lucky with a little rabble-rousing. Not only did she come here to cause some trouble, she could, possibly, get the right people noticing her...
Of course, I could also be noticed by the wrong people...but they'd first have to be able to find me again...
If she finds such a group, she'll start singing a famous Halfling Slave Song about freedom, which was translated into common a while ago, dealing with throwing off one's chains, and how one's heart is always free. Following that, a satire about House Thrune including some words thrown in using Infernal that no child of Kesin's age should know.(actually, words no respectable person should know), and closing with a song honoring Jackdaw, the defender of Kintargo -
As she slips through the crowd, looking for a slightly inconspicuous place to pause and relax, Rakhel listens to the conversations of those she passes, sometimes, her step faltering when she wants to hear more of one thread or another... and using that pause as a chance perhaps to speak with and elicit more from the speakers with some leading questions.
While maneuvering her way through the crowd, she tries not to lose sight of the man behind the curtain for too long at any one time... always checking to see if he is still hiding there watching the crowd.
Not wanting to get caught up in an actual riot or physical altercation, she does watch carefully for tempers to rise and for folks who are perhaps fingering the hilts of their weapons overmuch or holding improvised weapons... She watches their faces and listens to their words as well, wary of when they grow too heated and staying a bit away from those groups if she cannot calm them down a bit.
Jack sighs to himself, though he doesn't let the disappointment show on his face. He's trying to blend in, but as long as he's got an audience... well, he might as well give them a show.
And so he puts on a big, oversized smile, and walks towards the lake, reaching into his bag as he does so and pulling out his smallest metal ring and largest leather ball. With a laugh and a flourish, he tosses the ring to one of the smaller audience members, then gestures for them to throw it back. By the time they do, he's close to the lake. Focusing for half a minute on an ongoing Prestidigitation, and summoning an Unseen Servant, he colors the ball bright silver, and the ring in stripes of red and black, the colors of Imperial Cheliax.
Jack throws the ball and ring to new audience members, and waves his hands in a "pass them around" gesture," as he steps into the lake, leaving his pack on the shore. When he's reached shoulder height, he waves again, and this time his Unseen Servant retrieves the ball and ring, rolling them artfully across the park and into the lake.
With a bit of effort, Jack manages to jam the leather ball inside the metal ring such that it sticks, forming a sort of saturn-shape. And then he hurls the ball-and-ring as high as he can into the air, dives into the shallow water, swims for several seconds and pops out again, leaping several feat into the air, fist held aloft; with any luck, he manages to punch the ball so that it flies upwards and out of the ring, and then uses his other hand to spike the silver ball into the crowd while spinning the red-and-black ring on his arm. (If the stunt fails, he tries it a few times, making the failures look intentional). Landing shoulder-deep in the water, he points to the audience, then to the silver ball, then to the opera house and then to the ring on his arm.
And then the Unseen Servant takes the ball back to him, and he shrugs. Nothing I can do, his exaggerated frown says, and then he points at the audience again, and winks, and laughs several seconds of a practiced, tinkling, stereotypical "Elvish" laugh as he does a few backflips.
He'll repeat the performance a few times. The symbolism is crude, but with any luck it'll appeal to the sympathies of the crowd, and maybe get them motivated to go back to protesting. Meanwhile, he scans the observers for anyone not obviously amused, hoping to spot the Silver Ravens contact.
Adonara:
"Just look at that wench. If that's the sort of thing Thrune hires, it's no wonder he's a fan of excrutiations!" says one, causing a bark of laughter from the other.
"Well, it is the Thrice-Damned House. Woman must be half-devil. Look at those silver eyes, and that twisted sneer. Bet Nox forgot how to smile." responds green and gold.
"That's not really fair, the thing can't be descended from a Succubus. More likely one of them Devils that come from our light-challenged neighbors. Explains all the scars, anyway."
"Yeah, I don't suspect even Dreamweaver would be intoxicating enough to make a person warm to her."
Moving on, Adonara has no trouble finding young men who pay quite a lot of attention to her exotic beauty. Women are slightly less common, but as they say... if you build it. Establishing a rapport with the local people came particularly easily for her. She didn't particularly sway the crowd, but she assuredly made a few friends within it. Regardless, your particular charm makes them feel somewhere between at-ease and utterly flabbergasted. Not at all uncommon.
Rakhel:
"Well, I heard that they've got some extremely cheap labor. Drop a bit of grain, and you owe more than you can make in a year. Work off your debt..." says the toothy young woman.
"Ye're kiddin? I'll believe that when I ken see it."
"Just head down there. I've seen guards not care, but some are just asinine enough to throw someone into jail over a grain of rice or sumpin. Then they get to wear themselves to the bone on the jobs nobody wants."
"Hey, that's my job ye're talkin about." the conversation trails off as the two begin to bicker.
Moving about, you're able to keep your eye on the person who's drawn your attention. They occasionally take a drink but otherwise just watch from the shadows.
Flying Jack:
Jack manages, with his antics, to draw a significant portion of the crowd's attention. While he isn't necessarily drawing the crowd to his side, much of the crowd acknowledges him. Though his symbolism isn't quite heavy-handed enough for the crowd as a whole to understand his art, the work itself has a similar enough effect. As his show slows down, many of the people who had acknowledged him blend back into the crowd, voices raised, just as they had been before... some with renewed vigor.
Lia returns the smiles as she moves through the crowds. Upon looking around some more, she notices someone unusual: a juggling fellow putting on an elaborate act. The people around him seem to be quite energized by his antics.
There's also a very attractive elven lady moving among the crowds with ease... before she knows it, she finds herself making her way towards her.
Lia:
As you move throughout the crowd, you notice that others are following your lead. The loudest of the Chelish supporters are finding themselves the focus of far more attention than they would like. Casual threats and insults become the norm regarding those that would defend Thrune, and they quickly discover that they've worn out their welcome.
Kesin:
As you reach into the pouch, the clink of coin-on-coin isn't the sound that you hear, and instead you feel glass, solid, and curved.
Rakhel:
Jack:
Lia turns to the crowd following her and feels another smile break out on her face.
Thrune's vocal supporters are gone... good. Let's give these fine ladies and gents a little reminder of what the Opera House used to stand for.
She hops up onto the fountain and starts to walk along its edge. She gives the juggler in the back of the crowd an appreciative glance before turning back to her followers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, isn't this a grand Opera House?" Lia waves a hand at the building the Dottari are lined up in front of. "A place of great opulence and even greater tales--of swords & sorcery, of triumphs and tragedies, of unity and passion alike! How many stories have been told in those halls, upon its grand stage?"
"I remember a time when the common man and nobility could pay their dues and escape into worlds of drama and brilliance for a night, without worrying about the ever-encroaching shadow of Thrune falling across Cheliax." Her eyes narrow as she looks up at the figure in the window. "Before Hell's slaves--" She seems to spit the word at the figure. "--made it their domain."
"One such tale was the much-anticipated Huntress of Heroes--a story of a lone, young, impressionable woman rising above her station to become something new. Something held in high esteem to all men & women, no matter their birth or their walk of life... a hero." There's more than a hint of bitterness in her voice. "It's a tale I know well, for I was chosen to play her part. I would like to perform for you but a taste of the art that would come, were it not for Thrune's... insistence otherwise."
With that, she begins to launch into her lines... not too far so as to give away anything truly important to the story, but enough to remind her impromptu audience of what has been taken from them.
Rakhel seems to be almost skimming about the crowd. Like any proper dilettante, she seems to flit from one group to the next, interested in each, but without allowing herself to get REALLY involved with any one faction. She does give the impression of a curious onlooker rather than an integral part of the protest. Whether that is an intentional impression or not is unclear.
This is moving too quickly, Jack begins to think, as he realizes that he's not the only one playing the crowd. While he's never had a head for this tactical stuff, he seems to be one of the few people at the protest actually paying attention, and that's made him nervous. I'm not the only one playing the crowd, am I?
Stepping out of the pond, he dries himself off with a wave of prestidigitation, and gathers a handful of dirty water from the banks. Focusing on the spell, he freezes the water into three crude, small orbs of room-temperature ice, which he juggles briefly and then tosses to people in the crowd. "Show's over," he says, shaking his head, "Today's not a good day for satire, apparently."
And, trying to be inconspicuous, he returns to his tree, noticing a woman pontificating on the fountain. Turning to lean against the trunk, he spins a quiet Message spell, and then turns to point at Lia with his left hand. With his right hand, he covers his mouth as he whispers. "Psst! Ms. Politician. Things are going a bit far, and this could get dangerous. Guards by the opera house looked nervous, but the captain with the ugly eyes? Saw her weapons, she'd definitely be up for a bloodbath."
"Don't know what you're trying to accomplish, and it might well get a few people hurt, or worse. But that number might be less if you have any idea on how to pull that captain away from the gates for the next few hours.
Rakhel watches the juggler in the water for a few moments... smiling ... then moves on to the young lady with the impressive voice. She finds a shady spot under a tree from which to watch and listen (seeing as she forgot her parasol, and this morning's rain and overcast has turned into partial sunny skies). When the juggler walks up to a neighboring tree, she turns and flashes him a beautiful smile, while tucking stray strands of red hair under her scarf. Then she turns her attention back to the singer.
She notes a few finger movements and a whisper but (even though she knows the spell herself, lol), it doesn't occur to her that it might be more than maybe a juggler's twitchy fingers... She goes back to scanning the crowd while tapping her foot to the catchy tune as she listens.
I thought for sure Alyc or Vivi would be here today... Neither would miss an event like this for anything... Heck, none of the crowd would miss this. Where IS everyone? Unless they were warned to stay away.. Maybe coming alone wasn't the best idea... Father will be angry if this crowd turns ugly or something. Maybe I should stay closer to the edge of the park so I can slip out...
She starts to wend her way through the crowd toward the east, slowly so as not to attract too much attention.
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As she gets a sense for the crowd’s mood, Adonara’s thoughts keep returning, revolted, to the comments she overheard the pair of nobles making about the Dottari captain. Meat. That’s all men like that think when they see us. She wonders, idly, about what Nox’s - she gathers - life must be like if serving the powers that be seems a step up. Another wave of scorn for the callous and leering aristocrats sweeps over her, They’ve never even seen a succubus, and, I’d warrant, wouldn’t know what to do if they did-
The thought flashes through her mind before she can stop it, and in an instant she is back to that night of cruel darkness and lashing flames, seeing Via - her heart threatening to break again. She takes a moment to collect herself. We’ll do this, Via, she thinks. We’ll do this. Wish you could see some of this too, though. A feeling towards freedom in the most unlikely of places.
Anticipating that some of the rowdier elements might get bored, and anxious about what might happen in that case, as groups get more settled and conversation continues, she takes the opportunity to make her own case to the people nearest to her, appealing to their good sense and better nature.
“Oh yes,” she continues, as she feels her way into the flow of her speech, “It’s fun to throw stones, break a few windows, bandy big words and blue with those who want to boss you around. But what when it’s you? Who is that terrified shopkeeper trying to make a living and not call down the wrong attention upon himself, who is that mother who’ll stitch on that bloody pentacle to the guards’ tabards for a few coppers to keep her children from starving? What if someone decides they don’t like the look of you?
So you hate being bossed around? Good! But these folks hate too - and if it comes to drawn steel, who can you count on to face those blades, to feel them bite? Who will look at you - and me - and say, ‘They were there with us, they saw and they cared for us, we will stand together?’ We can all hate tyrants, but it is not enough if we are not good to one another.”
After a while, Adonara notices that the loyalists have quieted down, and sees a young half-elf approach, giving her a smile before launching into her own speech. After a few minutes, Adonara realizes who she is, and decides she must talk to her. A contact at the Opera would be useful, and surely the troupe could use some assistance, having been displaced so ruthlessly.
Once Lia finishes her performance and the applause dies down, Adonara moves forward and greets her, “It is Miss Vantas, isn’t it? I would have hoped it could be under happier circumstances - I was looking forward to the season.”
Lia:
Your tale, and the movements and lines seem to resonate with the audience. They certainly take notice, though, and press forward, closer to the Opera House. Your words, pushing them towards the desire of taking back what rightfully belongs to Kintargo... not Thrune.
Adonara:
Your words don't do much for the Anarchists, but it does a lot more for the common man. The people who are here itching for a fight calm, certainly, but they aren't subdued as they had been by the crowd overall, over the last hour. Instead you note the attention of the guards, whose nerves seem to calm considerably as you speak, though the majority may be Thrune's dogs, you can be certain that they appreciated your speech... except for the woman near the middle (whom you recognize as Nox) who doesn't seem to share any of your sentiments.
Rakhel:
Fluid movements throughout the crowd allow you to whisper kind words to others, assuaging fears and keeping the crowd as a whole calm. Now, more than before, you can feel the eyes of the crowd on you, moving between you, the juggler, the actress, and the speech-giver.
Kesin:
You give up your lack of notoriety rather quickly, as you lead the crowd through a song that only a passing few actually know, followed imediately by confusing a significant portion of the crowd with your mockery of House Thrune in a language they understand to be his own, at least in places. You rapidly realize as you sing about Jackdaw... that the Jackdaw that you know is a different Jackdaw than the one many others know. Everyone seems to have their own interpretation of the hero, which is something you rapidly learn as those nearby begin to discuss the folk hero.
“It is Miss Vantas, isn’t it? I would have hoped it could be under happier circumstances - I was looking forward to the season.”
Lia gives the elven lady who approached her a courteous nod. "As was I--but hopefully, things will be all sorted out before too long. Who might you be?"
She's about to say more, but she's interrupted by a whispering in her ear...
"Psst! Ms. Politician. Things are going a bit far, and this could get dangerous. Guards by the opera house looked nervous, but the captain with the ugly eyes? Saw her weapons, she'd definitely be up for a bloodbath. Don't know what you're trying to accomplish, and it might well get a few people hurt, or worse. But that number might be less if you have any idea on how to pull that captain away from the gates for the next few hours."
Lia feels her ear burning with some embarrassment. "...huh."
She looks over at where she felt the message coming from and spies the juggling fellow from earlier. She rubs her ear and beckons him over.
"Just whisper," Jack replies, "And I'll hear it. It's easier. I can loop your friend into the spell, if you want."
And then, "Look, I hate Cheliax as much as the next non-human. But I'm worried we're about to send an unarmed crowd up against a trained killer, and that's not what I want."
Seeing that she's attracting more attention than she'd like, Rakhel isn't quite sure what to do next. Her first instinct is to fade into the crowd and try to sneak back home before her absence is discovered. Either she's just missing them in the crowd, or none of her friends appeared in the park as promised. Nothing really keeping me here, she thought, But I don't want to miss what happens, either.
She starts slipping through the crowd, moving over toward the juggler, the singer and the speaker, gravitating toward them because more than the rest of the crowd, they seem to have an idea of what's going on here and they seem to be gathering together themselves.
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Adonara raises a brow as Lia waves the juggler over. “Adonara Strixis,” she says, and, smoothly, with only the slightest suggestion of a beat, “ladies’ companion.”
She shrugs modestly, and continues, “It’s silly really, but I had hoped to see if the Opera could use any more help - backstage work, that sort of thing. I used to sing in a choir, back home, and I find I rather miss it. But of course, there are any number of girls who can hold a tune and are desperate for a spot in the chorus, and I seem to have arrived in Kintargo at a most inopportune moment...”
She glances towards the opera house for any signs of activity.
On that note, she remembers an old story that suits her purposes, and retreats further into the park towards where more people have gathered near the edge of the lake. Taking a moment to start tapping the beat out with her booted foot, she begins to sing softly, first in Elven, then improvising to accommodate Common in something like the original tune, weaving a parable applicable to the situation:
“And right away they poured out like wasps
alongside the road, which boys provoke, as they usually do,
always taunting them, and the wasps keep their homes beside the road...
Idiot boys! They make a shared evil for many.
But the wasps, even if some person, a traveller going by,
disturbs them unwittingly, they, having a bold heart,
fly out, every one, and protect their children…”
Afterwards, she moves through the crowd again, making sure that they understand that they are not boys, and that there is a right time to sting.
"Just whisper," Jack replies, "And I'll hear it. It's easier. I can loop your friend into the spell, if you want."
And then, "Look, I hate Cheliax as much as the next non-human. But I'm worried we're about to send an unarmed crowd up against a trained killer, and that's not what I want."
The juggler's words give Lia pause for thought. "...neither do I, really. I wasn't planning on having them outright attack." She whispers, drumming her fingers along the hilt of her knife.
“Adonara Strixis,” she says, and, smoothly, with only the slightest suggestion of a beat, “ladies’ companion.”
Adonara's words catch Lia's attention again. She smiles widely. "A pleasure, Adonara."
“It’s silly really, but I had hoped to see if the Opera could use any more help - backstage work, that sort of thing. I used to sing in a choir, back home, and I find I rather miss it. But of course, there are any number of girls who can hold a tune and are desperate for a spot in the chorus, and I seem to have arrived in Kintargo at a most inopportune moment...”
"Well, isn't that the truth." Lia glares at the Opera House again. "It's almost enough to make one want to leave."
"Thrune could've picked literally any of the manors in town to call his home, but instead he chose this place. Apparently, he gets his kicks out of driving upstanding, decent actors out of work."
Seeing what Adonara is doing (and quietly admitting to herself that she does indeed have potential, poor working environment aside), Lia opts to join in. This time, she opts to display some of her singing skills, hoping she'll do as good a job of keeping the protest's participants calm enough to not immediately do anything rash.
Her backing vocals do much to support Adonara's own voice, and even serve to cover up some occasions where her voice falters. Looks like all that choir work I did in the opera's paying off.
Rakhel moves closer to the small knot of performers, swaying her hips and moving her arms sensually in time with the music.. While not attempting to stand out and catch the crowd's attention, she does punctuate their song with her dance. She tries to get a few of the crowd dancing with her.. at least so far as swaying their hips and nodding their heads... She will grab the hand of the first fellow she spies who seems into the music and draw him into the dance.
"Right. Just be careful, then. Make a scene if you want, I'm all for disrupting Mr. Thrune's peaceful quiet, but keep these guys from getting violent. I'll be keeping an eye on the guards."
And Jack slinks off, trying to generally observe the opera house and fringes of the protest for the next hour.
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Adonara is quite grateful as first Lia - who obviously had a better instinct as to how to fit the Taldane words to the tune - and then a colourful dancer she doesn’t recognize, join in to get the crowd’s attention. Letting Lia take over more and more of the song, Adonara seizes an opportunity to join the dancer for a few minutes, further encouraging the crowd to the idea that they’re all in this together. Then she whirls off again, tempering the wasps’ aggressiveness suggested in the song to movements that allow others to join the group. At last, as the performance reaches its high point, she is moved to silent prayer.
Yes, she thinks, lifting her thoughts to Calistria, Yes. For you, goddess: for you. There is chaos here, and change, and charm. For you. As she slows through her last movements, her arms raise high, palms to the sky, until she is still.
After the moment passes, she catches Rakhel’s eye and gives her a friendly wave to join her and Lia. “That was fun,” Adonara says. “We’ll have to do it again sometime. Preferably on an occasion that doesn’t include sullen Dottari as an additional audience.”
Rakhel looks about as the dance ends, curtsies to her latest partner and skips over to Adonara, tucking stray strands of flame-red hair under her scarf... "Hi, I'm Rakhel and that WAS fun... and particularly pointed as well.. loved the song. You are both quite talented!"
Lia beams with pride as the newcomer compliments both her and Adonara on their song. "Thanks, Ms. Rakhel. Tell me, do you go to the Opera House often?"
...wow. She and Adonara are REALLY attractive.
“That was fun,” Adonara says. “We’ll have to do it again sometime. Preferably on an occasion that doesn’t include sullen Dottari as an additional audience.”
She nods enthusiastically, looking around at the crowd again. Hopefully, their impromptu show put the crowd in high enough spirits...
I used to go often, but haven't been since.. well you know who... turned it into a private residence. " she sighs heavily.
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"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rakhel." Adonara says, "And thank you both for saving my skin. Serves me right for trying to extemporize. Still, it looks like we've got them talking."
She surveys the crowd, trying to gauge just how much of an effect their efforts have had. A bit of hope is a good start, especially if no one does anything rash that Thrune's minions could twist into provocation.
Feeling the crowd slip away from her as she sings for them, with many of them gravitating over to some actress, a singer and a dancer, Kesin considers redoubling her efforts to try and rouse them with singing, but what good would that do. Obviously she did not get her message across to them.
So instead, she shouted out to nearby people, shoving them to get their attention, pointing at them:"Hey, you, why are you here?...You, why did you come?....you all, why come all the way to the park?", once she has a few people listening, favorably or not, she continues: "Why ARE you here, if not to let this idiotic invading imbecile feel that he is not welcome here? Whats with these retarded proclamations, anyway? That paracount is not good for us! The whole of Cheliax is not good for us! We are Kintargo! Was this what Jackdaw and the defenders of Kintargo fought for? So we come here to the opera as an audience for this madman? Squabble among ourselves? No, we came here to tell him how we feel about him! So let's tell him together!", Kesin turns facing the Opera house, then shakes her fist at it as she starts chanting:
"Hell, no!
Thrune must go!
Hell, no!
Thrune must go!
Hell, no!
Thrune must go!", expecting others to join in, looking over at the other group with triumph if even a few bystanders pick up her war cry!
People don't seem to be nearly as interested in Adonara's tune as they were the the previous attempt at simple diplomacy. You're still quite aware that the crowd has more than a passing interest in you, and you can feel eyes, beyond those of just the party, lingering on you, however, as Lia joins in with you, and later Rakhel, the parts become much more significant than the whole.
While there are certainly those within the crowd that don't pay heed to your songs and stories, the majority do... and Rakhel's even able to convince a sizable portion to protest the occupation of the theater through their own forms of dancing, at least four of which being ballroom dancers in noble finery, and several simply having their own particular style... or if not style, rhythmic movements that may or may not have simply been shuffling back and forth.
The revelry continues during the brief conversations you have with one another, the mood having shifted substantially... right up until Kesin draws the attention of roughly half of the people who hadn't joined in on the dancing, taking up her chant.
During all of the excitement, you can practically hear the anxiety pitch into the crowd, as a voice from up above speaks. The words rain down above, carrying the notes of pure condescension, as your eyes fall upon the man speaking them.
"My, my, my. How... quaint. So this is what a Kintargan protest looks like. I had been worried about some of you making attempts against the noble Dottari below, or even making threats against my life. But it would seem that the best you can manage is a small sideshow. I'm uncertain of what you are trying to accomplish precisely, but..." he pauses, to set his wine goblet down on the banister, before performing an obnoxiously slow, and loud clap. "I really must applaud, I had not expected to see a show in the Opera House so soon. I had no idea that your people enjoyed my presence so much as to give me a show!"
"Ah, my adoring little chickadees, I hear you! And I would give you a B for effort, and a D minus for execution, but I believe I'll give you a D, since it's positively obvious that none of you actually rehearsed for your roles." he says with a wide smile, as he leans out over the banister to look down upon the crowd. "I appreciate the efforts, quaint and outdated as they may be... but the sanctity of art really must be upheld. We can't have Kintargo getting the wrong ideas about what true entertainment is, you see. So, in an effort to curb these positively gauche acts, I have decided to make a Proclamation. Henceforth, all entertainers must carry with them a writ that states they are allowed to perform. I believe that ten gold should be an adequate cost to ensure that our time is not wasted in simply ensuring that you can perform, before you are allowed to."
At this more than half the crowd begins to boo, shout and yell up at the man. He calmly stands waiting, standing back up and holding his arms up in a placating gesture. The Dottari begin to glance amongst themselves, the aura of ease that had been pervasive only moments before beginning to vanish. "I know, I know. Simply requiring a license without a punishment is hardly going to dissuade such rebellions, and I believe I have the ideal answer. Anyone practicing the proscribed arts, without the grace and permission of the Church of Asmodeus, will suffer a fate of Squassation, ensuring that the offending limbs are not utilized for such dark purposes at any time within the near future."
The crowd begins going wild, and all of those things that your group had worked so hard to accomplish seem to ebb away in so few callous words. The guardwoman in the center, who had appeared to be having the worst day of her life only moments before was now offering the crowd a leering grin, arms reaching downwards for her axes. The crowd crashes forward against the Dottari, trying to press into the opera house, and crushing those poor Dottari near the edges in that same instant.
As Nox is just reaching her weapons, to pull them out of their harnesses, a beautiful, masterwork dagger places itself directly into her eye, knocking her backwards into the doors of the Opera House... which fall inward under her weight as she collapses to the ground. Following the arc of the throw back to the perpetrator, you see...
Standing before you, you see a finely dressed Kintargan nobleman with jet black hair and piercing grey eyes. He's maybe a couple of inches taller than average... around 6 feet give or take an inch. With finely muscled limbs and torso, he is a fine figure of a young man. His features are fair, but not androgynous in any way, definitely masculine, with a strong jaw and beautiful white teeth, which are bared in a satisfied smile.
Rakhel feels a chill go through her and the strength drain from her limbs... she almost collapses to the ground, and would if she weren't standing near a tree, which she wraps her arms around as a brief cry of recognition escapes her lips... she almost calls out his name, and then realizes that would be bad and simply calls out an elongated... "Ooooohhhhhh!... "
She pushes herself away from the tree... and casts a message spell quickly... directing it toward him whispering...
She is so proud of Kyl she could burst ... or scream... or go hug him... but he's been cold to her of late, and though she moves toward him, she fears his reproach if she goes to him... again, whispering in the message spell
Seeing the Kintargans surge forward, overwhelming the Dottari and the guardscaptain hit into her eye by an thrown Dagger, Kesin unfolds her sling, easily concealed as part of her rags, and readies a stone. Taking aim, she shouts up towards the Balcony at the top of her lungs: "Your days are counted, Thrune! You outstayed your welcome!", before letting fly at him.
Is this it? Is a revolution happening? It seems almost too easy...he mocked them, incited them...was he just conceited, or did he want that to happen? But it IS happening...this is a chance!, thoughts and doubts go round and round in Kesin's head.
Those...others seemed to know what they were doing. How did they react?, Kesin looks over to the bunch of actors, dancers and singers she had seen before, hoping to take her lead from them.
Jack notices something odd about the drunk stumbling through the crowd. Attempting to shadow the man, he casts Detect Magic, scanning to see if the flask is some sort of potion.
If there's anything magical about the flask, Jack will try to sneak up behind him, trip the man "accidentally," and grab the alcohol in the confusion.
[dice=Sleight of Hand to "accidentally" spill/shatter the entire bottle onto the ground, if it's magical]1d20+7[/dice]
Well, at least Thrune was the one who started the violence, Jack thinks, and immediately returns to the message spell he’s been keeping up, pointing at Lia and Adonara to link them into the spell. ”If anyone dies, this goes from bad to worse! The guards inside will be better armed—see if you can keep the crowd outside and throwing things. I’ll see about healing the guards who are down and snatching weapons from the ones who aren't.” And he reaches into his bag, pulling out a weapon he’s never used outside of sparring—one of Master Koshi’s monk knives, made specially for disarming enemies.
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Adonara listens grimly as Thrune delivers his contemptuous address. She knew, of course, albeit abstractly, how unspeakable and arbitrary Cheliax’s law had become under the rule of the Thrice-Damned House, knew that her very presence in the country as a priestess of the Savoured Sting was illegal, but to be present at the pronouncement of such a brutal decree in response to actions in which she participated suddenly makes it very personal. Attempting to make art the prerogative of Asmodeus, and threatening squassation as the penalty for dissent, moves the new mayor of Kintargo up from a person Adonara wouldn’t grieve for to one she would gladly put down herself.
All in due time, though, and she is unpleasantly surprised by the vehemence of the crowd’s response when everything had seemed to be going as smoothly as might have been hoped. As the mob surges forward and Nox goes down under a nobleman’s dagger, forcing a gasp of surprise from Rakhel, Adonara hesitates as to what she should do. What would Via do? The thought is too painful. Hell, what would Eris say? She can almost hear the exasperated sigh of her old friend and sparring partner. ‘You need to pay more attention to everything around you, sweetheart. Know where you’re going, find your target, and then get out.’ Right.
Letting her tactical sense take over, she decides, Too crowded for the bow, and we’d rather avoid a massacre if at all possible. Get the crowd or the guards or both to back off, and then cooler heads can regroup. She spares a thought and a glance for Rakhel before she advances, but is tactful enough to keep the cynicism that provides the necessary distance for plunging into the fray to herself. Was that a good ‘oh’ or a bad? Let’s make sure he lives long enough to let us find out.
Adonara takes the whip coiled at her hip in hand, and advances with as much menace as she can muster towards wherever the fighting is likeliest to break. If she can get everyone to back off before anyone gets seriously hurt, so much the better. She would prefer not to have to see any foolhardy souls force their way ahead to beard Thrune in his den, but it’s their funeral, if it means using too much force otherwise, or letting someone else die in the streets outside.
Rakhel... after her initial response... if Kyl doesn't run, she forgets her initial reticence and runs to him, grabbing him by the arm, and trying to pull him through the crowd... very quickly she says, "I've never been prouder of anyone before in my life, but you can't stay here... the guards will come for you... you've got to be gone... come let's get out of here.." She tries to lead him out of the area.. away from the guards, away from the opera house, someplace where he can hide... or get home from.
Lia tunes out most of the paracount's speech after he proclaims that the arts would now be prohibited under pain of torture without a permit. In fact, she's seething with rage.
When the lead Dottari is put down with a well-aimed dagger to the eye, she growls in satisfaction and starts storming over to the doors.
Seeing one of the performance-group she was observing storm towards the doors is enough to confirm Kesin's hopes, and she stops hesitating and joins the charge as well-
Flying Jack:
Players, Baddies.
As Rakhel calls out to Kyl via her magic, his head snaps around in the direction it's coming from, then the other direction when he doesn't see her nearby. "What..?" comes through the link just before you tell him to run once again. As you press forward, he adds "Rakhel... why..?" before shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Finally, you reach his side, and touch his arm, and he looks to you with a grimace, though concern still apparent on his face. "Damnit Rakhel. What are you doing here... none of you were supposed to be here." Your knowledge of Kyl tells you that the grimace is more a face he makes when he feels guilty over something. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here, before..."
Kesin's sling bullet sails through the sky, thunking the leather padding of his armored arm. The attack is likely to leave a bruise, but is little more than an annoyance for the man... though his pleased smile did disappear, his eyes narrowing, and brow furrowing as he searched through the crowd for the source of the well-placed stone. He backs out of easy view, realizing that not all of the rebels are worthless garbage after all.
At that moment, while the majority of the group is pressing forward, several men and women throw off raincoats, revealing red-and-black garb. Some of them, you recognize as the people who never quite fell in with anything the group was doing or saying. Each is carrying an almost uniform light mace... probably forged in a Tanessen workshop, from the looks of it. In addition a massive silver pentacle hangs from chains on their neck. The guards at the edges that are still alive are pushed back, but each of you see the guards take the time to pull out an identical pentacle from under their clothing.
In fact, the fact that they're all dressed alike with similar weapons and identical pentacles means that the Thugs are being backed by someone in power. Perhaps worse, the fact that the guards are wearing the same implies forethought. And definitely worse, uniforms are generally most useful to armies who are worried about friendly fire...
Kesin and Adonara... your advance is somewhat blocked by some of these Thugs, though they seem to be in the midst of preparing for combat, drawing their weapons as they cast off their heavy clothing.
Players are Up!
"Oh, dear lord... I'm not the one they'll be after.. don't worry about me... we've got to get YOU out of here... We'll be surrounded by these thrune thugs in no time... you've got to run!"
She runs with Kyl if he's amenable and doing so, glad for choosing something comfortable to wear and sensible shoes today... and she doesn't pause as she asks... "wait... before .. what?" Her grip on his arm tightens as she runs, trying to wend her way through the (probably now-panicked) crowd and the terrain of the park.