It started ten days ago with the disappearance of the city’s lord-mayor, Jilia Bainilus, accompanied with rumors that she had abandoned Kintargo by leaving on a ship bound to Arcadia. The Paracount Barzillai Thrune swiftly assumed her role, arriving the next day from the Chelish heartlands. Two days later, the Silver City awoke tarnished after a night of arson and murder known now as the Night of Ashes. Many civilians died that night, most said to have been associated with the Bellflowers, Sarenrae, and Milani.
As Kintargo prides itself on diversity, creative spirit, and artistry; the yoke of martial law has been particularly onerous. The Lord-Mayor Thrune’s merciless rule is punctuated by seven proclamations, giving the city’s citizens a grim preview of the times to come. Inquisitors and dottari (Chelish city guard) are growing increasingly aggressive in their enforcement and the undercurrent of uprising slowly builds on many Kintargan breaths. Numerous minor protests have already popped up only to be quickly dispersed by the dottari, by the Hellknights of the Rack who have recently arrived from the South, or by the local militia known as the Chelish Citizens’ Group.
Today Kintargo awakens to a cold, wet, and dreary morning that marks the one-week anniversary of the Night of Ashes. Although it has been a mere seven days, the city already feels like a completely different place. The old lively sounds and sights of the city have been stripped away, now replaced with silent glances between citizens and the rhythmic clang of heavy armor marching on cobblestone. Hushed rumors fill the streets that the largest protest yet will be gathering today in Aria Park, just south of the Kintargo Opera House where Barzillai Thrune has made his new home.
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Carl awakens and prepares himself in his small room above the shop, anxious to succeed at his rendezvous. He dresses in his dark cloaked costume, unwilling to risk his family's reputation by attending the protest as himself.
Properly dressed, Carl slips out the back way and begins to make his way to Aria Park.
After doing a bit of light reading for the morning, Reynard prepares himself for the big day. A major protest like this could be trouble. Better be prepared. he thinks to himself, and so he dons his studded leather armor before pulling on somewhat threadbare robes over it. He carefully winds the springs of his wrist sheathes, securing a dagger in each. On top of it all, he puts on a heavy cloak, more than enough to conceal the added bulk of the armor from casual observation, not to mention masking some of his more fiendish features. Checking his preparations one final time, he sets out for Aria Park. Leaving early, he carefully surveys the area before the bulk of the protesters gather, looking to see what preparations the Thrunes might have made, since they've surely heard of the planned protest.
The day of the protest Brianna awakened with the sun, as she normally did. At first, she thought she might sleep in, but just a few minutes of lying about grew too boring. She got ready for the day, and prepared some herbal tea with her breakfast. When she was done eating, she pulled out her most recent work of craftsmanship: a new wooden shield to take out at night. She leaned it against the wall across from her as she sat in prayer.
Brianna beamed as she stood to pour herself another cup of tea. She was big enough to admit that she sometimes inspired herself. This shield, this was probably her best work. When the tea grew too cool, she quaffed the rest. She wrapped her proudest work in its cloth and hid it under her bed with the rest of her twilight gear.
With her chain hidden beneath her thick tunic, Do I bring the whip? Brianna thought. Even the one without the dagger might stand out. She hitched her morningstar to her belt instead, put on her thick work apron. The half-elf picked up a thick white sheet, and wrapped it loosely around her neck. She pulled it up over her nose, and back down a few times, to make sure it was secure before leaving it down off her face. Finally, she donned her old wooden round shield and headed to Sark’s.
Then we can get this protest over with
Darius looked in the mirror, wondering whether to go as himself, or The Fiend of Redroof. His social identity had known ties to the Victocora, it certainly wouldn't be out of place for him to be at a protest after their recent and suspicious demise. But how would he attract other dissidents in an identity as bland as Darius?
Darius put on his chainshirt, tied his rapier's scabbard with his belt, so it hung behind him, rather than at his side. He knew he would look terribly silly in his robe, trying to disguise all of his gear. Perhaps this would be an unworkable ruse?
Settling on attending as the Fiend of Redroof, he went down the stairs of his apartment through his little shop, turned the sign to "Closed" and made his way to a nearby quiet alley.
In his little alley, Darius removed his robe, hiding it in small nook he stashes some gear in. He grabs his pouch and puts on his cloak and rapier properly. Satisfied that his equipment is now all set, Darius sets out to apply all the makeup needed to accentuate his features. He even uses the disguise kit adhesive to apply his horns.
Satisfied with his disguise, and seeing the blood red version of himself staring back, he feels his hatred of Thrune flare up as he raises the hood on his cloak, concealing his features a bit for now, and makes his way to Aria Park, ready to find others eager to rid Kintargo of Thrune.
Adun had heard mutterings about the coming protest in Aria Park, but thought little of it. Thugs and bullies like House Thrune and the church of Asmodeus never respond to hopes and pleas for change - they respond to shouts and violence.
Though the protest is nominally peaceful, there are always a few bad seeds waiting to cause trouble, and no doubt the new lord-mayor's lackeys wouldn't mind an excuse for a crackdown on the opposition. Agnes seemed determined to go, though, so Adun agreed to escort her. "If things turn nasty, we'll stick together," he says, knowing that keeping her safe is the least he can do after the kindness she's shown him over the last few days.
Preparing for the worst, Adun ties his waxed cloak around his neck, slips his gauntlets on - the leather-lined steel fitting around his fingers and wrists perfectly - and pulls up his hood, both to protect him from the drizzle and to shadow his features; the Asmodeans who killed his father may still be looking for him.
Agnes had little time to be nervous about going to the protest. There was first work to be done. The stables needed their morning maintenance, and even though she had no customers at the time, it would not do to have the place be untidy.
With the stables looking pristine, she made a simple breakfast for her, Laika and Adun. Adun had been a great help, and she felt sorry for him, with the cruel fate pushed upon him by the Asmodeans.
(she would ask Adun to make breakfast while she worked, but her kitchen was halfling sized, so there was no way a big man like Adun would fit inside)
Taking care to properly armor and saddle Laika, Agnes also brushed the wolf so he would look more like a wolf-hound. "There. All looking pretty!"
Laika would sigh a weary dog sigh.
Agnes herself also put on armor, but she let her lance stay in the corner of the stable. They were going to a protest, after all. It would only draw attention.
She did put on her longsword.
"Thank you Adun for coming along with me. This state of Marial Law is already hurting my buisness, and I want so show my support to my fellow citizens."
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 sky is overcast and uncharacteristically dark as Kintargo’s dissatisfied citizens gather, the shouting can be heard from blocks away as you each approach. 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 ruckus of the protesters, he surely can’t ignore the scene on the streets below much longer.
The crowd gathering in the market square has quickly swelled to fill the entire space and is acting as an uncoordinated mess. Pockets of people are either yelling conflicting statements at the Opera house or turning to bicker with each other. What is obvious is that at least five separate groups seem to have taken this protest as an opportunity to express themselves. There are Kintargo partisans who are condemning the tightening Cheliaxian grip on the city's culture and demanding Thrune to step down in favor of a local Kintargan; economic conservatives who rebuke Thrune's new taxes and suffocating business policies; advocates of democracy who are demanding a legal election; anarchists that are actively attempting to outrage anyone near them; and Chelish loyalists who chant support for Thrune’s actions to curb the city’s dissentious streak.
Listen for Rumors: A Diplomacy check to gather information or a Perception check to overhear something of note.
Pilfer: Attempt to lift purses from the crowd or goods from the street vendors with a Sleight of Hand check.
Rabble Rouse: Try to better organize the protest with a Diplomacy or Perform check.
Search for a Contact: Anyone who might have come to the protest in search of a mysterious contact can search the crowd with a Perception check.
Silence Undesirable Elements: The message of the crowd is a jumbled mess, a Bluff or Intimidate check to try to silence elements of the crowd you disagree with.
Watch the Crowd: Alas, simply choose to watch the crowd for anything unusual with a Perception or Sense Motive check.
The protest is much larger than Adun expected, but is very much as disorganised as he thought it would be. Lots of different groups seem to be pushing their own agendas and from the shouted slogans and various placards it's clear that no-one has taken charge to present a unified message to the city's new overlord.
Looking around the area for signs of the Asmodean inquisitors he fears might be following him, Adun sees the twitch of a curtain on the third floor of the opera house. "Looks like our new lord-mayor is keeping an eye on us," he says quietly to Agnes. "Bet the bastard thought we'd all come to show him how much we love him," he scoffs. Adun uses his time trying to catch a sense of what's going on - any news or gossip might be important in keeping him and Agnes safe.
Carl arrives at the park, part of the teeming mass of people gathering to protest. I don't have time for any of that now, he thinks, for I must find the one-gloved man. He begins searching the crowd, and then it occurs to him: Perhaps I have met some of these people in other circumstances? Disguised, like me? He decides to keep aware of people's builds, voices, distinctive styles of dress and mannerisms, in case he spots something familiar.
The Fiend stalks through the crowd. For now, he's maintaining a low profile. There's a lot going on around him. He doesn't want to draw too much attention to himself. He deftly moves through the crowd, staying between the fountain and a path to the grass.
Nervous with his first appearance in the daylight he adjusted his hood.
"I'll keep an eye on things from the back," Brianna said with a smile as Sark disappeared into the crowd gathered in the park. She wandered around the edges of the crowd, keeping a vigilant eye for folks who brought lethal weapons to the protest; citizens and government officers alike.
The crowd's energy maintains quite constant.
Adun is only pick out the obscenities that are continuously flung at the opera house.
"Throw the Thrune! Throw the Thrune! Throw the Thrune!"
"My ledger's in ruin because of you, what a person wears is of no interest to the State! And stop stealing my dogs, damn it! "
"For he's a jolly good fellow!.."
"Freedom to Ravounel! Death to the Diabolical Tyrants! Kintargo for Kintargo!"
The Silver Shadow is unable to see any man with one black glove and one bare hand.
The Fiend is able to blend in, though it is morning it is a dreary day with much commotion that allows much to go unseen. While lingering by the fountain, he catches a glimpse of a pickpocket in the act of swiping some coin not too far away.
Sark nods and easily shoulders his way towards the front with his blacksmith frame. While inspecting, Briana is able to spot several citizens that are hiding crude clubs or knives in their dress. She's also able to link these individuals to the unusual undercurrent of the crowd that seems determined for chaos.
Reynard stays quiet, watching the crowd. He knows one of Thrune's goons, maybe even the man himself, is watching from the window, and sees no reason to attract too much attention this early.
With the crowds already thick and riled up so early, Agnes is especially glad that Adun is with her. Riding a wolf(dog) might scare the normal rabble rousers away, but the hardcore crowd might listen better to a human then to a halfling.
"Your eyes must be better then mine Adun. I cant see a thing from down here."
Agnes looks around the crowd. She had not expected this many people, and so many coming to protest gave her a bit of hope.
They might be divided, but seeing so many that not only feel the same, but are at least willing to do something is good.
"Adun, I'm also here to see someone. Buisness is down, so I need to get all the buisness I can. This is not the best place to meet someone, but you have to compromise sometimes if you want to see a man about a horse. I was told I could recognise him because he wears a single black glove."
Brianna moved through the crowd slowly and deliberately for the first hour, taking in as much as she could of the protests. She found herself very put off by the strange chaotic undercurrent and how it was affecting Kintargo’s wide range of citizens representing themselves today in Aria Park.
This is going to get out of hand, she thought. Someone is going to get hurt. The dead center of the crowd seemed the best place to stand. If violence were to break out, she’d be in the best position to lend a hand.
She decided to stand in the middle of the crowd, trying to get a better sense of the chaotic undercurrent; whether the conflicting groups were giving off the curious vibe, or perhaps an outside source was affecting the protesters themselves.
Reynard is able to spot an old man in the crowd. He shambles around bumping into people in a way that appears frail and unsteady, then you notice him palming a bracelet off of a kind citizen that paused her protesting for a moment to help him.
The crowd is indeed much taller than Agnes. From her vantage it is hard to see much more than the jostling bodies. Luckily, plenty of hands are in view, but unluckily none of them meet the description she is looking for.
Brianna finds the chaos is a shifting entity all throughout the crowd, the people being innately part of the protesting mass and distributed throughout it. Standing in the center, the commotion is too much to take in with much meaning. Elbows bumping her and random voices yelling in her ear provide ample distractions and red herrings to her research.
Adun gets rapidly bored of the protest - there's no organisation, there's no response from the lord-mayor or the church, and the competing factions seem to be becoming increasingly tense. Aware of his obligation to Agnes, he scans the crowd for obvious troublemakers, ready to move them both away should anyone seem particularly suspect.
The Fiend ignores the pickpocket, it's hardly worth tipping the high tensions here into a riot over a little lost coin.
With little to grab his attention, he waited until he would recognize a group that might be interested in the Silver Ravens. Having scouted this section of the fountain, he makes his way to the other side to get a different view.
Carl continues to watch the crowd from the periphery, scanning for his mysterious contact.
He happens to recognize Reynard among the throng nearby, and is pleasantly surprised to see the booklender here. Could he be looking for the same information as me? he wonders. Impulsively, he approaches him. "Reynard Freeman?" he whispers, or rather says in his ear with a slightly raised voice to be heard above the crowd. "You have lent me books in the past, and I am glad to see you here. Can I be of some assistance to you?"
Reynard turns, not quite startled, but certainly unsure of just how to respond. Assistance? What assistance would I need, exactly? "Ah, yes, good to see a fellow reader here." he says, before pausing. I suppose I shouldn't bother asking for a name. If he wanted to be recognized he's not have worn a mask. "Historic day, don't you think? It will be interesting to see how this plays out, what with the changes that have taken place in the last few days." Reynard says, unsure of the masked man's loyalty. It would be just like Thrune to have agents in the crowd, though this seems a bit...overt.
Carl's cloaked figure quietly considers Reynard's words, and then looks toward the opera house as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh..." he says, unsure. "Yes, the protest." He pauses. "Do you think it will have any effect?" he asks with a tone in his voice that suggests he doesn't, but hasn't considered the question before.
"Please forgive me for the costume," he says, looking around. "I had hoped to avoid being recognized. It would be unfortunate for my business if the authorities suspected that I sympathized with... rebel elements of our fair city." He gives some details of the inside of Reynard's library, details that he remembers from having been there, hoping to assuage any concerns that Carl is setting up the booklender. "Have you ever heard of the Silver Ravens, Mr. Freeman? I am hoping to meet a man here today who I am assured can tell me more about their organization. I am told he will be wearing one black glove on his right hand, and no glove on his left."
Not having much luck, Agnes is not quick to give up.
"Thank you for sticking with me Adun. There are some... unsavory types in this crowd." Agnes winces as a group shouting pro-thrune slogans passes by.
"Its good to have a friend in situations like this."
"Oh, I'm sure it will have some effect. Perhaps not the one that I'd hope for, though." the tiefling says, with a sad smile and a shake of his horned head. "I do certainly know about the Ravens. Or, I think I do. History changes so rapidly these day it's hard to be certain." he says, smirking. "A man with firsthand knowledge would certainly be interesting. I'll keep an eye out for a man by that description." Just then, there's a bit of a ruckus from the area of the Chelish Citizens' Group which draws Reynard's attention away for a moment. When he looks back, frustration creases his brows. "I do wish that lot would shut up. It's like they're trying to start a fight."
"Do you want me to help look for your chap?" Adun asks Agnes. "Might be easier from up here." He is surprised, and grateful, to be referred to as a friend. "The protest seems to have drawn out a lot of people who just want to cause trouble. It doesn't help the cause of the genuine protestors to have this Thrunist rabble mixed in amongst them."
Agnes looks relieved. "If you could Adun? Even when sitting on Laika, I'm mostly seeing ass down here. Figuratively and literally."
She motiones to the Thrunists to accentuate her joke.
Agnes gives what slim description of her contact that she has.
Some frustrated civilians begin getting into scuttles here and there. Those on the fringes of the crowd are promptly grabbed by the guards and kicked down the rather empty side streets. Some of the dottari can be heard yelling, "You're lucky you're gettin ta go home boy, now scram!" Other's who are less lucky and cause more for work for the dottari are dragged out of the crowd and shackled before getting sent off.
Adun notices an imposing and sinister figure standing at the opera house's locked front gate. The woman has a black cloak and stares at the crowd like a hungry beast.
The Silver Shadow and Agnes both notice a participant in the crowd in a black cloak with their face obscured by a hood. While their right hand has a black glove, the other is bare.
Before any opportunity to approach the man is given, the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus ring out three peals across the city. 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.
"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: all ships’ captains are hereafter barred from leaving their vessels and setting foot on Kintargo docks or streets, under pain of... let’s say... squassation!"
Yelling erupts from the crowd with much more energy than before. In retaliation to the Eighth Proclamation, people begin to shove each other forwards and pound their fists against the opera house walls and door.
Reynard looks on the growing violence, both of the dottari and the crowd, with dismay. This is getting bad, and only going to get worse. Turning to his erstwhile companion, he says "If you'll excuse me, I need to take care of something." With that, he heads for the quickest way out of the crowd, and heads down an alley to a spot where no one can see him.
Looks like I should have brought the mask after all, Brianna thinks to herself. She lifts the cloth to cover the bottom of her face, says a quick prayer to the Everbloom and swears not reveal herself today. She casts Oath of Anonymity to approximate the Blue Thorn's appearance.
The Fiend was disgusted hearing Barzillai's words. Momentarily, one of his open hands flared with acid, but he dismissed the bolt.
The crowd was now more agitated than ever, a feeling he could relate to. But the crowd's unruliness was likely to cause more problems than it solved. He began to run through his options.
Even with some notoriety, calming a mob this agitated would be nothing but a fool's errand.
His thoughts are interrupted as he notices some casting near him. He recognizes the spell in question, keeping an eye on the now disguised individual, making his way over to her.
He was not sure yet which side of the protest she was on, so he moved closer, but did not announce himself.
"Hey Adun I think I see my..."
Just as Agnes is about to point out the one gloved man in the crowd, Barzillai Thrune appears. At his speach, Agnes lets out a few choice curse words.
"Dammit, this isnt going to end well...
Agnes checks if she can still see her contact.
Edit: nope, I just posted it in the recruitment thread somehow. lol
Carl nods absently, having just noticed his contact in the crowd. Then thinks better of it and starts to call out to Reynard, but the crowd envelops him, and Carl must take a few steps to follow. He's not likely a spy for the dottari, Carl thinks, But what does he have to take care of so suddenly? Maybe he is afraid... I should keep an eye on him, to make sure he's safe. He backs away from the crowd and looks around, and for a moment it seems he has lost the tiefling-- but then he spots him slipping down an alley. He turns and looks to see if he can still find the man with one black glove. Egad, he thinks, I'm going to lose one of them!
The appearance of Barzillai Thrune, alongside the deeply scary-looking woman standing by the opera house's gate, instantly turn the crowd even more hostile. His ridiculous proclamation further heightens the tension and Adun barely hears Agnes over the bells.
Staying quiet, seething with hatred for the lord-mayor, Adun surreptitiously makes sure his gauntlets are buckled tightly just as the crowd surges forward. He looks down to make sure Agnes stays with him. "I don't think it is, no," he replies. "Be ready."
Amidst the surging chaos, a handful of manure or mud arcs from the crowd towards Barzillai. Though the projectile misses him, splating against the opera house wall, the lord-mayor nonetheless flinches and spills wine across his ornate clothing. He then shrieks, "Enough of this! Nox, run them off, arrest them, or kill them. I don’t care which!" before retreating into the opera house and slamming the windows.
Down below, the intimidating person guarding the gates immediately mobilizes the dottari with a snap of her fingers, who draw their weapons. At the same time, men and women throughout the crowd pull back their cloaks, revealing matching armbands, truncheons, and sadistic grins of the Chelish Citizens’ Group.
The Chelish Citizens begin attacking every protester in their reach! The dottari hold the line on the outside of the crowd, allowing people to flee but smacking them as they go and dropping some. Out of the crowd a knife is flung at the woman guarding the gate. It sinks into her chest, but she merely smiles and pulls it out with a minimal show of blood. Then she leaves her post and enters the opera house.
Four thugs begin noticing each of you or are moving towards your area of the crowd as they bash innocent civilians.
While the crowd turns, Carl spots a figure that he thinks is Reynard emerging from the alley. Oh ho! he thinks. Perhaps he doesn't need my help after all... Desperate to keep an eye on his contact, he pushes back through the crowd toward the fountain as violence begins to erupt around him.
Carl gestures with his hand and three of the gold coins in his pouch begin to glow with a silver-white aura. Drawing forth one of the coins, he moves forward and spins it through the air toward one of the thugs that is menacing innocents.
"Attacking unarmed civilians? And they think WE'RE monsters." Darius mutters under his breath.
The Fiend throws back his cloak as he casts his spell. A bright pattern erupts from his hands, at the guards to his left (3 & 4). Having to hit the civilians with his pattern is worrying, but with his foes out numbering him, he takes the gamble.
"Get out of here, quickly!" he shouts to some nearby civilians that are panicking rather than running.
Agnes doubts for a moment. While her first instinct is to defend the innocent, she is not here in her secret identity. And anything she might do to the thugs could have repercussions...
Drawing her sword, she steers Laika to move back a bit, putting herself next to Adun reassuringly big frame.
"Dont think I wont defend myself if I have to! That is still within my right as a citizen!
She readies an attack. If one of the thugs attacks her, she will hit back.
Out from the shadowed alley Reynard had disappeared down appears a monstrous beast, twisted and hideous, only just recognizable as a tiefling. Clad in dark robes, with black horns and prominent fangs, it is a thing of nightmares. It stands there momentarily, twitching spasmodically, before launching into action. It dashes forward, quickly drawing abreast of the Silver Shadow.
Of the two nefarious citizens hit by the blinding colors, one falls unconscious immediately with a swath of the protesters. The other thug that resisted the blinding show grimaces and yells above the crowd, "This one! Take him down!" The thugs close in on the location, swinging their light maces wildly at Darius and catching Brianna in the fray as collateral damage.
Only one attack landing on Darius' shoulder with a thud and crunch.
Breanna spared a moment to look for her half-orc friend before squaring off with the violent citizens.
"If you Thrunnies want some blood, come and get it," she glared at the thugs over her shield.
With a feral roar, the Beast leaps forward and snaps at the thug opposite the Fiend.