Hell's Rebels AP - Down with Thrune!

Game Master GM Red

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Hell's Rebels - In Hell's Bright Shadow

The City of Kintargo has long been known as a haven for artists, particularly composers, directors, and musicians eager to expand on Cheliax’s operatic traditions. It stands apart from Cheliax as a city of sedition and silver, separated from its nation by the rugged Menador Mountains as surely as by a wide gulf of culture.

Kintargo straddles the northeastern shore of the Yolubilis River and a large island named Argo that sits in the river’s mouth. While the Yolubilis provides for Kintargo’s economy by floating ships and turning waterwheels, the city sits downriver from various clay deposits, farms, mines, salt springs, and smelters. Sediments in the water give it a characteristic silvery shine when the sun strikes it at dawn and dusk. This, combined with the prodigious run of silver salmon that use the river every year to spawn and the use of silverflecked stone in many of the public buildings’ facades, has given the settlement its most common nickname—the Silver City.

Despite its booming economy, not all has been pleasant in Kintargo. One might say the atmosphere in Kintargo is that of an overinflated balloon, ready to burst - one tiny jab and…

Recently, the city’s new leader, Barzillai Thrune, 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. The proclamations have divided the city, and the unrest circulating amongst the townspeople has cast a palpable sense of hatred and anxiety through town. For a city that prides itself on its diversity, the yoke of martial law is particularly onerous. The atmosphere is tense.

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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. Thrune's martial law and ridiculous proclamations 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.

In front of the locked opera doors, a dozen dottari guards and a woman whose eyes lack irises and pupils stand guard. The thirteen look nervous and edgy, constantly scanning over the building crowd and readjusting their grip on their weapons.

Please introduce your character, muster with each other if you want to, and in doing so, work in your reason for being at the protest. We won't actually get started with the campaign until Friday - or sooner, depending on how quickly you guys check in here :) Welcome, and I hope you enjoy our adventure!

Pádraig Henry had spent the last two days busking on the grounds of Aria Park, moving to a new spot every hour or so, close enough to observe the comings and goings around the Opera House, once his place of employment and now seized by the tyrant Lord-Mayor Thrune.

No one paid any attention to a halfling anyway, and after a few sharp glances from the tyrant's patrols on the first morning, they'd begun to ignore his presence altogether. He might has well have been another topiary in the park's gardens.

Next to one such topiary, pruned and trimmed to resemble an abstract raven, is a small, nondescript wagon with a large wooden crate covered in stained, drab canvas, groundskeepers tools sprouting from its rails. Excellent. Exactly where I asked the two street urchins to place it.

He mouths a silent prayer to Miliani. Here goes nothing.

Concealed behind the wagon and the shrub, he casts aspect of the nightingale, clears his throat, and hums an ascending and descending chromatic scale to warm up his pipes. One of a bard's best trade secrets.

Then he reaches through the shrubs and into the wagon. In one swift jerk, he pulls the canvas off the crate.

Four-and-twenty ravens soar into the sky, long banners tied to their legs unfurling as they fly. A single word is legible on each, heraldic script azure upon a field argent. Liberté!

With a satisfied smile he watches the birds, some of them at least, fly over the protesters and the Lord-Mayor's security detail.

Hidden behind the shrubbery in the Aria Park, the young Argent Voice and last-of-the-Silver Ravens fills the startled silence with song.

♫And the darkness calms my mind
I see the ravens fly, born of time, demon eye
So the rain becomes again
A master sorrows friends, a better end my sorcerer friend
And the rains are coming closer
Darker days are drawing near
Return of ravens
And the world I know subsides
I see the darkest eyes, the mastermind behind the tide
So let the ravens come to me
Come and set me free, summon me, let me be♫
Lake Of Tears, Return Of Ravens

Then, Pádraig Henry snatches a rose from one of the bushes and hauls ass, before anyone can catch him.

Morvena looks up, startled as the ravens explode out of the nearby crate and take flight as song fills the air. Her gray eyes track the birds as they soar, just as the singer's words soar above the crowd, until she can no longer see them. Even after the song ends she stares after them. But then, as if remembering her surroundings, she glances away and pulls her hood just a little further over her face.

"Hmph. Lovely voice, but whoever it belongs to is a damned fool to be pulling stunts like that in public," she mutters softly. She glances over to the man standing close beside her and smiles wryly, though there's no real merriment in her eyes. "On the other hand this proves that I was right after all, Geoffrey. Aria Park, right here, right now, is the place to be if we want to learn more about what's going on in the city - and perhaps even see a little entertainment while we're at it."

Geoffrey scans the area in and around Aria Park, his eyes roving over each person mentally cataloging each one as a potential threat to his employer.

By the Gods, why did she insist on coming here? This is FAR to risky, especially with these new edicts! He glances back at his companion, the woman he was paid to guard...with his life if need be. There was a part of him who would gladly pay that price...but not here, not now.

"Morv...err...Milady", his attention drawn by the sudden movement of the slip from the edge of his vision, "I still am not sure it is wise to stay here long...things are about to burst at the seams and I thi--"

As the ravens burst from the crate his instincts take over, grabbing her arm and pulling her to one side as he moves to protect her. The voice echoing from the slip gives him pause. "Yes you may be right Morvena. We may learn much here BUT I do not really consider this entertaining!"

He watches the slip take off (wisely, he thought) and sighs wistfully as memories of happier days spent escorting her to this very Opera House, the one now claimed by this new leader. "Still I do see why he risked this..."

He must miss the days before...I wonder whether those days will come again...

Sunlight!

Issil grumbles, and throws more pillows across her face. Day-old makeup smears across her face and into the pillow. "Ugh, I forgot to wash my face again. And I reek." Issil slowly rises from bed, makes sure her pendant is still on (yup!) and prepares to draw a bath. Clothing, too.

One bath later, Issil travels toward the opera house. Big crowd, but she's used to navigating through things quickly. Occasionally she checks her pendant to make sure no cutpurse wants to take it. Over her dead body.

Finally Issil sees a crowd of mostly young well-to-do men. Eager idiots ready to spend their hard-earned gold if you show a little skin and smile. "Well, this is boring. How about some entertainment?" Issil sways to and fro as she recalls one of her favorite dances, The Merchant's Zeal.

perform(Dance): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

Not too bad. And one of the men has taken a particular interest in her. She saunters up to the man and smiles. "If you want a private encore, I know a place-"

Suddenly the crowd is startled as a murder of ravens fly over head and some voice rings out, crying about freedom. "Ugh, not this again. What is it with ravens?" By the time Issil looks down from the ravens her crowd is gone. All she can do is grunt in frustration.

Issil is probably Looking for Trouble.

Victor, the butcher's son. No, not his first son, but his fourth. The one that seems friendly enough, maybe a bit slow at first glance, but reliable. You know, the one who takes the orders and makes the deliveries all around the mercantile quarter? Its odd to see him at a gathering like this, usually he's at work, but maybe, just maybe, he stopped by after a daily delivery to watch the protest.

He moves through the crowd, stopping to say hello whenever one of his regular customers greets him by name. "Oh hey, great weather. Please don't tell my father, he'd be furious." A quick handshake or a hug and he'd be on his way, moving through the crowds as he went. So many people, Victor here sure gets around, hopefully not too much! He grabs up another slip of paper from his inside pocket, cleverly sewn into his cloak.

He smiles and glad-hands another woman "Yes great to see you too, please don't mention you saw me to my father, he'll dock my wages if he knew!" Another slip of paper is retrieved. I should have made up more of these, what a day!

He stops for a moment, watching a group of birds fly overhead. Liberte... A smile crosses the young man's face for a moment before he continues his way through the crowd, as he goes his coat pocket sags further and further.

Across the way a man stops to toss a few coins into a hat of a fiddler, down on his luck since all this started. The man reaches into his pocket and a confused look crosses his face as he pulls out a small slip of paper and no coins. His brow's furrow and his eyes narrow as he reads the small, flowing script"WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR DONATION TO THE 'SAVE THE OPERA HOUSE FUND' Brought to you by Barzillai Thrune."

He clenches his fist in anger and tosses the paper into the hat, joining numerous other such pieces and a number of coins, and stomps away. The fiddler smiles "Many thanks Sir!"

Looking for Trouble, +2 Bluff +2 Sleight of Hand

Two dottari take chase as Padraig's allegorical song fills the air, but he quickly loses them as he folds into the building protest crowd.

"Thrune! Lift these bogus restrictions at once! We are not your personal slaves, and we not follow your absurd proclamations!" A tiny halfling shouts up at the balcony of the opera house.

"Yeah! End this ridiculous ruse and elect a proper official to determine Bainilus' successor! You are not my mayor!" Another half-orc screams.

"Foolish protestors, you're wrong! Thrune is the answer -- the only thing that will make Kintargo great again!" Two female humans chirp back at the others in defense of Thrune.

The crowd has built up to about three dozen people so far. From listening to their demands, you glean that the groups consist 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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You may take a number of actions as the day's protest goes on. Each action takes 1 hour, and you all get 3 hours worth of actions.

Listen for Rumors - Wander the crowd and learn what's going on in Kintargo's new political landscape. DC 15 Diplomacy to gather information, or DC 15 Perception to overhear something of note.

Pilfer: Slip into the masses, and lift goods or snatch purses with a DC 20 Sleight of Hand check.

Rabble Rouse: Attempt to better organize the protest with a DC 12 Diplomacy or Perform check.

Search for a Contact: Make a Perception check. This is only applicable if you've chosen the campaign trait that calls for you searching for a mysterious contact.

Silence Undesirable Elements: With so many factions among the protestors, the message delivered is a jumbled mess. Choose a faction to silence (above) and roll a DC 15 Bluff or Intimidate check.

Watch the Crowd: Simply observe the crowd for anything unusual. Roll a variable DC Perception or Sense Motive check (a higher result grants you more, obviously!).

Please choose your first action as if we were in combat and roll the appropriate check.

Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 8 + 2 = 15

Victor continues to move through the crowd, collecting donations to his cause until he runs into someone with a particularly firm grip on their purse causing him to 'stumble' into them "Oh sorry about that, they really need to put some of that unending tax money they keep collecting on fixing the holes in the street, I nearly twisted an ankle!" Bluff: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 9 + 2 = 22

I've got to be more careful, there's much more to be had here!

A budding rabble rouser, already this day off to an auspicious start, Pádraig Henry cheers on the crowd of protesters, leading them in song.

♫Buddy, you’re a young man, hard man
Shouting in the street, gonna take on the world someday
You got blood on your face, you big disgrace
Waving your banner all over the place!♫
Queen, We Will Rock You

He moonwalks through the crowd, then holds up a single gloved fist and points at the tyrant-occupied Opera House. "Power to the people of Kintargo! Chorus, ladies and gentlemen, sing it with me now!"

♫We will, we will rock you (sing it out)
We will, we will rock you!♫

Perform (sing): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Issil fans herself as the crowd begins to turn into a disorganized mess. "Heh, that's what I like to see!" She smiles as people taunt and jeer Thrune- she's no fan of his guard's nighttime patrols- but some of the women's support upsets her. Idiot loyalists, they sound like my mom.

She makes her way up to them. "Will Thrune make Kintargo great again? I've heard he's trying to sell us out to the highest bidder. Why do you think he took the Opera House? He brings his bidders there in the dead of night!"
I will silence Chelish Loyalists.

Bluff, Looking for Trouble: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 4 + 2 = 20

Quick wits convince the women of her words. She leaves them to ponder the idea as she blends back into the crowd.

Geoffrey keeps a sharp eye out on the crowd as the protest gains steam. With interest he sees the halfling slip he noted earlier return, breaking out into another song. Taking advantage of the distraction he decides to gather the crowd's reaction, and hopefully pick up a rumor or three. "Well Morv, if you wanted to see what is going on here then now is the time...please lead me along and I shall see what I can gather..."

Listen for Rumors (DC 15 Diplomacy to gather information): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

While normally he is quite quick-witted, concern for Morvena soon proved to be too distracting.

While it should be obvious what Geoffrey is doing here, he is just Tagging Along. You gain a +2 bonus on all Perception and initiative checks made during the protest itself.

"I told you before Geoffrey, it'll be fine," Morvena responds quietly as the crowd settles back down, somewhat. "We're just here to observe and perhaps pick up on some of the latest happenings in the city. I promise I won't make any mischief while we're here."

Even though few things would make me happier. But...

Morvena glances up at a nearby tree, where a small thrush sits singing on a branch.

...now's not the time.

She spends the next while meandering through the crowd with Geoffrey in tow, occasionally stopping to listen to any particularly juicy or interesting bits of news that she might overhear. When the halfling - who she's relatively certain must have been the mysterious singer from earlier - attempts to lead the crowd in song, she simply sighs and shakes her head.

Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 2 = 14
______

Morvena is Staying Up on Current Events; +2 to Diplomacy and Perform checks.

"Hey! Watch it!" A chelish loyalist grunts in Viktor's face as he's nearly caught stealing. Luckily, said loyalist is much too involved in keeping the protestors' message at bay to put too much thought into the incident, and buys Viktor's story.

A circle of protestors forms around Padraig as he riles the crowd up, and they throw their fists into the air, singing in unison with the halfling. "We will, we will rock you!"
Padraig gains a +1 circumstance bonus to all Charisma-based checks for the next 24 hours.

Meanwhile, Issil pokes a thousand holes into the loyalists' arguments. "Hah, you tell them!" The half-orc from earlier taunts, stepping into an armored loyalist's face. "Filthy loyalist scum, you're just as bad as Thrune! We'll take you down!" Other partisans and conservatives balk at the loyalists, and the group finds that they're surrounded and effectively silenced.
This will have an effect a little later in our game.

The crowd is far too distracted by all of the riling up, chanting, and taunting, and Geoffrey and Morvena fail to learn any valuable details.

With that, an hour passes, and another dozen protestors have streamed into the area.

Ready for hour 2 actions. Remember that you can take the same action twice, and some actions that provide bonuses have those bonuses stack if you are successful more than once.

You may take a number of actions as the day's protest goes on. Each action takes 1 hour, and you all get 3 hours worth of actions.

Listen for Rumors - Wander the crowd and learn what's going on in Kintargo's new political landscape. DC 15 Diplomacy to gather information, or DC 15 Perception to overhear something of note.

Pilfer: Slip into the masses, and lift goods or snatch purses with a DC 20 Sleight of Hand check.

Rabble Rouse: Attempt to better organize the protest with a DC 12 Diplomacy or Perform check.

Search for a Contact: Make a Perception check. This is only applicable if you've chosen the campaign trait that calls for you searching for someone in the crowd.

Silence Undesirable Elements: With so many factions among the protestors, the message delivered is a jumbled mess. Choose a faction to silence (above) and roll a DC 15 Bluff or Intimidate check.

Watch the Crowd: Simply observe the crowd for anything unusual. Roll a variable DC Perception or Sense Motive check (a higher result grants you more, obviously!).

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 Victor is far too focused to notice anything other than those with coin purses...

For the second hour he tries to make up for his poor showing in the first hour. Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 8 + 2 = 19 "Yes Ma'am, I don't believe you did pay for that roast I dropped off yesterday. I'm real good with numbers, I write everything down. I'd be happy to take that payment from you now, sure."

He takes a step back as the woman pulls out a receipt "Oh. My apologies. I must admit, I may have had a couple of ales at lunch, they were stronger than usual. Its been a good week! We hope to see you soon... goodbye." He quickly turns to head off.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 9 + 2 = 12 S~@!...

Issil is quite pleased with herself- there's nothing better than starting a little fun.
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 20 Wow!

Issil watches the sky to see if more ravens annoy her. Just then, she catches a glimpse of someone looking through the Opera House window. "Well well, we're starting one hell of a show for someone. I'll give them something to watch."

Issil calls another crowd, ready to start another show. For this hour, she picks the Lovestruck Folly, a dance she loves to pull to mock those of high stature.
Perform(Dance): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 Wow...
Just as Issil finishes up, the crowd is enraptured. All of the attention is on her. She loves what's going on, basking in the attention. So much so that she doesn't notice the fountain behind her.

SPLASH!

Issil is soaking from head to toe, having made a fool of herself.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10

Geoffrey eyes the crowd nervously his nerves becoming more frayed by the second, it seemed. Seeing the newcomers in the crowd he decides to focus his attention on them. The dancing of the Chelaxian woman manages to draw his attention, and he carefully hides his smile from Morvena as the other lady takes a spill into the fountain. He places a hand upon Morvena's shoulder leaning in to whisper in her ear, "I do not like the way this crowd is growing. Please keep your ears open for any tidbits that may prove insightful."

Watch the Crowd: Simply observe the crowd for anything unusual. Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Though it's hard to take a man's eyes off the dancer, even when she's doing the funky chicken, Pádraig Henry can't fail to notice the protester ranks are swelling. He feels the crowd's passion pulse through his veins. They need a target for their pent-up frustrations.

He shouts toward the Opera House, "Hear us, Lord-Mayor Barzillai, spawn of House Thrune!"

♫Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead♫
Bob Dylan, Masters of War

Perform (sing) with +1 circumstance bonus: 1d20 + 7 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 7 + 1 = 21

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 1

In spite of her own stated desire to learn the latest news, Morvena begins to find herself more caught up in the antics of the other protesters than in listening for rumors. She can't help but gawp as one woman begins performing a rather scandalous dance near the fountain and glances at Geoffrey.

"Is this sort of thing common out in the streets?" she hisses. "I mean, she's so...so...underdressed!"

However when the woman takes a tumble into the fountain at the height of her dancing, Morvena can't help but laugh - which she immediately attempts to stifle.

"Heh. Sorry, I seem to have the hiccups..." she murmurs before turning and ducking back into the crowd, more determined than ever to learn something of interest!

Focus, Morvena - focus!

Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 + 2 = 8

But it seems that people are now more interested in watching the various performers that have begun springing up in the park like weeds in a garden - such as the singing halfling. This time his song seems to strike a chord within the young woman and as she listens her foot unconsciously taps along with the beat.

Now *there* is a sentiment I can rally behind.

As Viktor reaches into a purse, its owner turns away to look at the commotion caused by Issil's fountain folly, and his hand slips out. The hooded woman turns and eyes the kitsune up and down, but isn't quite sure that it was him. "What are you talking about? You didn't buy anything from me! I see the last night's tea has gotten to your head. Makes sense that Thrune proscribes such intake!" She scowls, turning in such a way that Viktor gets an elbow to the hip.

Geoffrey's sentiment about the crowd isn't that far off. He specifically notes that the general mood is agitated and discontented, but not overtly violent, yet it seems compared to just two hours ago, the crowd's tenor has become increasingly hostile.

Padraig's quickly becoming a revolutionary icon, and two humans heft the halfing up onto their shoulders as he riles them into another anti-Barzillai Thrune chant. The crowd forms a line at the walls to the opera house opposed by the dottari guard and the strange, opaquely-eyed woman on the other side, throwing their fists in the air and demanding that Thrune renege his proclamations. Indeed, the distractions of Padraig and Issil have made it difficult for Morvena to gain any valuable information.
Padraig now gets a total of a +2 circumstance bonus to Charisma-based skill checks for the next 24 hours.

_________

Final hour!

Listen for Rumors: Wander the crowd and learn what's going on in Kintargo's new political landscape. DC 15 Diplomacy to gather information, or DC 15 Perception to overhear something of note.

Pilfer: Slip into the masses, and lift goods or snatch purses with a DC 20 Sleight of Hand check.

Rabble Rouse: Attempt to better organize the protest with a DC 12 Diplomacy or Perform check.

Search for a Contact: Make a Perception check. This is only applicable if you've chosen the campaign trait that calls for you searching for someone in the crowd.

Silence Undesirable Elements: With so many factions among the protestors, the message delivered is a jumbled mess. Choose a faction to silence (above) and roll a DC 15 Bluff or Intimidate check.

Watch the Crowd: Simply observe the crowd for anything unusual. Roll a variable DC Perception or Sense Motive check (a higher result grants you more, obviously!).

Issil lets the water drip. Whomever this halfling is, he's the center of attention. Oh well, may as well join the party.

The Parting Waves, well suited for those dancing at the beach, or those whom are overly wet. You carefully control your spins to splash water in a certain direction- like the dottari guard.

Perform: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Standing between the guard and the halfling, she laughs as she squeezes her skirt like it's a mop and flings it backward at the guard's direction. Maybe she'll get in trouble for this, but it's too much fun.

Hoping to catch the bard's eye, she gives him a wink and smiles.

Rubbing his sore hip, Victor moves away from the woman with a sigh of relief Better than a trip to the slammer I guess. Maybe I should cut my losses and luck and try to dig up some dirt for the next 'engagement'.

He changes his tone and demeanor, ditching his remaining notes into the gutter and any won coins into his own purse before scanning the crowd for some chatterboxes. "This crowd sure is getting loud! That Halfling over there really has a set on him to be leading the crowd. Wonder what's going to happen down the line?"

Diplomacy (Gather Info), DC15: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

"You don't say... where'd you hear that tidbit? Oh yes, nothing escapes these lips, no chance!"

Geoffrey watches first the slip...err...halfling gather more of the protesters to him with a careful eye, trying to see how the crowd is reacting. The appearance of the female Chelaxian draws a quick admiring glance, before his charge turns her attention to him.

Hoping to avoid a scene here he again takes Morvena's hand in his. "This crowd...it is getting out of control. I think we had best hurry here."

Listen for Rumors: Wander the crowd and learn what's going on in Kintargo's new political landscape. DC 15 Diplomacy (Gather information: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

Morvena scowls as Geoffrey takes her hand in his, yanking it from his grasp. "For goodness' sake, I'm not a child!" she huffs. "And the crowd is getting out of control because clearly these people do not know how to organize themselves!"

Entirely fed up with trying to learn anything of actual interest or use, the young woman turns her attention to the crowd milling around aimlessly. "You there - and you, and you! If you're going to draw attention like this then you need to form up in orderly lines," Morvena calls to some of the protesters. "Straighten your shoulders, hold your heads up - look impressive!"

Diplomacy (Rabble Rouse): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
______

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

From his precarious perch atop the shoulders of a couple of longshanks, Pádraig Henry spies the dancer in the fountain, doing Milani knows what with her skirt.

♫She's a maniac, maniac on the floor
And she's dancing like she's never danced before♫
Michael Sembello, Maniac

He leaps to the ground and laughs with exuberant human woman.

♫Rebel Rebel, you've torn your dress
Rebel Rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel Rebel, how could they know?♫
David Bowie, Rebel Rebel

Then he turns his blazing eyes to the crowd and, with a flush-faced flourish, completes the couplet, "People of Kintargo, the Lord-Mayor's got to go!"

Perform (sing) with a +2 circumstance bonus: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 7 + 2 = 19

An encore might be pushing your luck, Pádraig Henry. Better get out of here, before we all end up in the hoosegow.

Before he makes his getaway, his whispers to one honest-looking young protester. "They didn't snare all the Silver Ravens. Tell your friends, those you trust."

"Check that girl out! Wow!" One protester whispers to another, eyeing Issil up and down as she pays a compliment to a dottari guard in the form of some soaked clothing. Laughter erupts, but the guard retains his unwavering presence, unable to determine where the favor came from anyway. Unfortunately for her, the scene causes Morvena's inspirational words to fall flat.
Padraig has maxed out his circumstance bonus, now at +3, and Issil's got a +1

Viktor moves through the crowd and finds a despondent dwarf leaning against the fountain, shouting rumors.

Geoffrey similarly overhears a particualrly juicy tidbit from a hooded man.

______

For your successes during the protest, the party gains a total of 320 XP each. I'll keep track of this on our slides.

Three minutes past the third hour of the protest, the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus ring out three peals. A moment later, a man throws wide the windows and their curtains from the third floor of the opera house. The imposing man is 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 man who can only be the lord-mayor of Kintargo, Barzillai Thrune, prepares to address the crowd. 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 new 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!"

I'll give you guys a chance to react first. :)

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Pádraig Henry hisses in fury. He tells the like-minded dancer dripping on the flagstones around the fountain, "Squassation! Thrune's barbarity knows no bounds. Torturing innocents by tying the victims' hands together, then hanging them from their hands while a weight attached to their feet pulls them apart. We have to find a way to end this tyranny."

Oh boy, look at this loser.
Knowledge(Religion) Untrained: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Something about that symbol on his chest. Reminds me of what the family ran around with.

Issil puts her hand on her hips, waiting for whatever overwrought message he presents. When he finally mentions his master plan, all she can deliver is a simple "What. He just declared control over imports and exports. Everyone has to go through his approved delivery system."

Oh, that halfling's still here. Upon hearing what squassation is, Issil raises an eyebrow. "Oh, this is going to really well with the populace." She takes a scan of the crowd.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

"I like you, little man, and something tells me this is going to get ugly, fast. How about we stick together for now?"

Morvena folds her arms over her chest, scowling up at the city's so-called lord-mayor. "Tighten the grip until the city screams for mercy? Color me shocked," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she forgets to keep her voice lowered. "After all, Kintargo isn't his home so what does it matter to him?"

She has no idea what squassation might be, but she's positive that it would be a highly unpleasant experience.

Geoffrey winces as Morvena voices her displeasure at the current lord-mayor. Fortunately he did not seem to take umbrage...yet. Moving slightly behind Morvena he leans forward to whisper in her ear, "Careful Morvena. That one," pointing out the bodyguard Nox, "has the blood of hell-spawn flowing in her! She would show no mercy should you anger her!"

Scanning the crowd further he notes the halfling slip, now joined by the woman dancing earlier. Perhaps they would prove helpful should we need to escape quickly...

Barzillai Thrune watches on as the protesters erupt into boos and angry shouts. "Another insane proclamation!" The burly half-orc protests.

"And this time, with penalty of... squassation? You mean to harm the very citizens of your city?" A halfling asks, his voice quivering in fear.

"No! I refuse to believe this is happening! We will not simply stand here and listen to this so-called Mayor! It is not as though we elected him!"

Suddenly, a handful of horse manure slings through the air, headed directly for Thrune's face as if it fired from a bow. Thrune manages a decent reflex save, and leans back to dodge the flying stink dirt, but his lean causes him to spill his priceless wine across his ornate clothing. With his wardrobe and dignity endangered, the lord-mayor's demeanor shifts from amused to bellicose.

He watches a drop of red wine fall from his mace, then shrieks below. "Enough of this! Nox, run them off, arrest them, or kill them. I don't care which!"

Thrune slams the windows and retreats into the opera house. Down below, Nox -- the woman with the strange, white eyes -- draws her weapon and holds it over her head. "Dottari, with me! Stop whoever opposes Thrune!"

At the same time, various men and women in the crowds pull back their cloaks, revealing matching armbands, truncheons, and the sadistic grins of some sort of pro-Thrune group.

The protest explodes into a full-blown riot, and the five of you are searched out by four eager thugs with matching armbands. "Halfling, we heard your pathetic singing! Lord-Mayor Thrune demands that you are silenced!"

As Padraig and Issil look through the battling crowds towards these thugs, they notice just their approach causes a path to open up through the crowd, some even chanting We will, we will, rock you! as they fight back against the dottari.
This area counts as difficult terrain for everyone but Padraig and Issil due to them rolling high enough on their Perform checks earlier.
__

A Lovely Little Riot
--- Bold is up ---
Roger/Viktor
Padraig
Issil
Geoffrey
Chelish Thug Orange
Morvena
Chelish Thugs Green, Red, and Cyan

____________________

Battle map is on Slide 3 and the link is both in my tagline and at the top of this page. Appropriate battle music? Epic, but needs more chanting...

K Local: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
"Huh? The Chelish Citizens' Group. Authorized militia. So they can pummel us for free. That's not good for business."

She looks at the man in the red colors. "Hey you. Come over here. Approach me." She weaves through the crowd.

Casting Command to order red to approach me. DC 14 Will Save to resist.

Geoffrey pales as his worst fears are confirmed but he quickly quashes his emotions here.

Must stay calm...protect Morvena.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11

He quickly recognizes the armbands for what they signify, "The Citizens' Group...nothing more than a bunch of thugs working for Thrune! They will show no mercy Morv!" He steps in front of his charge while drawing his blade, an ornately forged bastard sword. Wielding it effortlessly in one hand he alters the grip, so as to avoid using the cutting edge of the blade.

Waving the halfling back towards him Geoffrey calls out to him, "Back here!"

Move to position on map. Ready action.

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Pádraig Henry casts a wild glance around the crowd, looking for likely allies. The dancer-one. There, the cutpurse-two. And there, maybe, the woman and her bodyguard-three, four.

"Bloody Unionists! The armbands mean they're the Chelish Citizens' Group, 'militia' empowered by the city guard to mete out Thrune 'justice.'"

When the bodyguard calls out to him, Pádraig Henry makes a snap decision. He nods and moves to their side. He draws his rapier and dons his buckler, inspiring his new companions.

♫War means tears to thousands of mothers eyes
When their sons go to fight
And lose their lives

I said, war, huh good god, why'all
What is it good for
Absolutely nothing say it again♫
Edwin Starr, War

Inspire Courage Allies receive a +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls and a +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects.

'Victor' nods at the interesting tidbit the man passed on to him Warehouses... I should find out which... His thoughts are quickly interrupted as the 'Mayor' begins his speech.

K Local, DC15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
That sounds like a horrid punishment! I think my legs would just plain fall off... was that horse droppings?

Victor looks around as the riot erupts, doing his best to look innocuous, out of the corner of his eye he sees a set of armbands and his eyes narrow Citizens group? I'd heard of them before, guess they got the memo there was going to be trouble! K Local, DC5: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

The young man looks around wildly as the militia begins advancing in his direction, he spins to see the Halfling and the harlot behind him Are they after me? I think I'm just in the crossfire here...

He takes a step back behind the fountain, doing his best to look not involved, as he does he drops his sap into his hand underneath his sleeve... just in case. Bluff... I ain't with those guys!: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10 Why do they keep staring at me with all that HATE!

Not sure if a bluff or a stealth would be more appropriate. Victor isn't one to get right into a scuffle if he doesn't have to! Standard to Bluff, Move to 'draw' sap, 5' step south.

Will save: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6
The red-tuniced Chelish thug is overcome with the urge to see the irises in Issil's eyes, and he begins looking for an optimal route through the mess.

Geoffrey readies an attack while Padraig raises his voice as loud as he can above the turmoil.

"Listen, halfling, shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you!" says the orange-bracered thug as he determinedly pushes his way ahead.

Meanwhile, a dagger flies from the audience and finds it way towards Nox, impacting her in the throat. She snarls, and yanks out the dagger. Moments later, the edges of the wound pull together and close up entirely, leaving no scar.

A Lovely Little Riot
--- Bold is up ---
Roger/Viktor
Padraig
Issil
Geoffrey
Chelish Thug Orange
Morvena
Chelish Thugs Green, Red, and Cyan

Spellcraft (DC 16): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Morvena raises an eyebrow, her training having allowed her to divine just what the ridiculous dancing woman was up to.

Huh. I suppose you really can't judge a book by its cover!

With a dangerous gleam in her eyes, she steps forward next to Geoffrey. "I did not come here looking for a fight, but if you insist, well...thank you for providing me with the perfect excuse," she beams at the thugs as she begins casting.
______

Begin casting Summon Monster I; it'll take a round for the spell to complete!

Spellcraft vs Issil: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 Was that a spell? Kinda looked like one...

Spellcraft vs Morvena: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17 Now THAT was a spell! Summoning some help, aren't her hand motions quite pronounced... she must summon frequently... good to know.

Morvena weaves a spell, beginning to trace the outline of her desired creature into tangible shape.

Now able to act, the red thug elbows his way through the crowd towards Issil, stopping just inches from her face. He raises his brow in confusion once the spell fades. "How did I get here? What wizardry is this?!"

"What are you doing, fool? You're looking at that woman as if she were a goddess! Snap out of it!" Cyan yells ahead.

After removing the dagger from her neck, Nox swiftly turns and ducks into the opera house doors. As the riot continues to intensify, two twin half-orcs are hauled off in manacles, their bodies thoroughly bruised from the guards' maces. "Death to Thrune! May the glory of the Silver Ravens return to Kintargo!" One of them shouts, spitting at his dottari escort and soon regretting it has a fist slams into the back of his head.

A Lovely Little Riot
--- Bold is up ---
Roger/Viktor
Padraig
Issil
Geoffrey
Chelish Thug Orange
Morvena
Chelish Thugs Green, Red, and Cyan

Pádraig Henry continues singing as he moves up to protect the flank of the caster, thrusting his rapier at the red thug. "Unionist pig!"

Inspire Courage +1 (2/7)
Attack, Inspire Courage: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Confirm Crit?: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Damage: 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

He raises his buckler, bracing for the inevitable counterattack from the thug, and introduces himself to his new ally. "The name's Pádraig Henry. Pleased to meet you under such exciting circumstances."

Now able to act, the red thug elbows his way through the crowd towards Issil, stopping just inches from her face. He raises his brow in confusion once the spell fades. "How did I get here? What wizardry is this?!"

"What are you doing, fool? You're looking at that woman as if she were a goddess! Snap out of it!" Cyan yells ahead.

"Heehee! Maybe I am a goddess. You're not the first one to call me that, honestly..."

She pulls out her dagger and shield, swiping at the red ruffian.
Dagger, Combat Expertise, Inspire Courage: 1d20 + 1 - 0 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 - 0 + 1 = 13
Damage: 1d4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 + 1 = 4
My Threatening Defender reduces my Combat Expertise to 0. My AC is 16 for this round.

She turns down to Pádraig. "But you, tiny one, can call me Issil. Normally I would use a pseudonym, but I think I need to close up shop today."

Geoffrey watches the scene unfold before him, irresolute whether to move up to assist the newcomers or stay back and protect his charge. Seeing the thugs move closer to the dancing woman cinches the decision for him.

"I cannot in good conscience allow her to get cut down Morv!" Seeing she is in the middle of casting he points ahead to the action, "Don't stray too far!" before he advances upon the thugs.

"She may be a goddess, but I think you have more pressing concerns!" He states as he swings the flat of his blade at the thug threatening Issil, connecting solidly on the man's temple.

Move 15' to position on map.
Attack the Red Thug. Bastard Sword, Non-lethal, Inspire: 1d20 + 3 - 4 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 3 - 4 + 1 = 18
non-lethal damage: 1d10 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 2 + 1 = 6

I hate having to get involved... But hopefully I'll make some useful friends... Gritting his teeth a bit at the situation, Victor, the butcher's fourth son, dodges and weaves to try to get behind the now engaged militia-man. No one has ever seen Victor move so fluidly, one would expect its because he's usually carrying a stack of hams or turkey's.

Acrobatics vs AOO(teal): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Once he makes his way to the back door he lashes out with what was hidden up his sleeve, aiming for the backside of the man's head. Sap + Flank + Inspire: 1d20 + 4 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 4 + 2 + 1 = 91d6 + 1d6 - 1 + 1 ⇒ (4) + (4) - 1 + 1 = 8

Unfortunately for him his swing is wild "Back off you brute, we're just minding our own business here!"

The red thug grabs his bloodied stomach in pain as Padraig and Issil slice through his shirt and into his flesh with their blades. "It's gonna be like that, is it? We were going to simply bring you in, but now we'll just have to kill you!" He manages between breaths. Geoffrey steps up and whacks him with his bastard sword, and the cocky Chelish man slumps to the ground unconscious.

Cyan watches on with concern as his red-cloaked partner is trampled by other rioters. "Rhazen never was a fighter. But guess what? I've trained for months preparing for this very moment!"

"So have I!" Orange exclaims as he closes the distance with Padraig. "Now it's time to shut that whiny trap of yours, halfling," he taunts, swinging his mace down to halfling level, catching Padraig in the arm.
Light Mace: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 201d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

A Lovely Little Riot
--- Bold is up ---
Roger/Viktor
Padraig (-5)
Issil
Geoffrey
Chelish Thug Orange
Morvena
Chelish Thugs Green and Cyan

________
If things should get ugly, moving off the map allows you to automatically flee the riot - not suggesting, just informing! :)

"My, my. That will leave a mark." Issil looks on as the first man falls. "I'm sure you guys were gonna have a little fun with us, but this isn't my first day on the streets."

Issil turns and looks at the older gentleman who walked in with a bastard sword. "How kind of you to join us, sir. We could use some muscle here, admittedly. I'm good at distracting but I'm not a fighter."

Looking down at Padraig, she frowns. "I can kiss that bruise and make it better, but I'm a little distracted right now..."

Wounded and with two of the Chelish Citizens' Group thugs in his grill, Pádraig Henry's wishing he'd filed a last will and testament with his barrister.

As things turn ever uglier, Morvena finishes her spell with a flourish. To everyone's surprise (or maybe no one's) an eagle suddenly springs into being in the air behind the remaining thugs!

"Screeeee!" it cries as it swoops down and rakes at the man with razor-sharp talons!

Talon vs. Orange: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 1
______

I think I'm doing this right. It moved a bit to reach Orange so just one talon attack this turn!

As her conjured servant goes to work, Morvena laughs with delight. "You fools haven't been the only ones training!" she calls out as she moves to a more favorable position and sets her sights on Orange. She extends her index finger and suddenly a small dart zips towards the man!

Acid Dart vs. Orange (Ranged Touch; IC, Into Melee): 1d20 + 2 + 1 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 1 - 4 = 11
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

"Gah! Get out of my face!" Orange tries to wave the eagle off, but gets taloned! He then screams in pain as the flesh melts off of his shoulder from Morvena's acid dart. Perception to see where it came from: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (8) + 0 = 8 "Who shot that!?" He shouts, but can't see the source of the dart through the rioting crowds.

"Help me out here, will you, Grel?!" Orange says to Green, his name now known. Grel moves down and swipes his mace into the air, hoping to toss the eagle into the opera house wall.

Light Mace: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 101d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
... And nearly hitting his own companion as he misses.

Light Mace: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 181d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Meanwhile, Cyan swings his mace at Geoffrey's chest, bruising the fighter.

Two more armored members of the official Kintargo City Guard, or dottari, step out of the crowd, their sights set on Padraig, Viktor, and Geoffrey. "Can't count on the ahem city militia to do a real guard's job. You three. We know who you side with, and we will take you down!"

A Lovely Little Riot
--- Bold is up ---
Roger/Viktor
Dottari Blue
Padraig (-5)
Issil
Geoffrey (-3)
Chelish Thug Orange (-5)
Morvena
Dottari Black
Chelish Thugs Green and Cyan (Grel)

Roger looks back over his shoulder into the crowd "Who me?" He says with his best 'I'm just an innocent bystander here who's been sucked into this rioting crowd after doing absolutely nothing wrong' look.

Then he swings his sap at the back of the Cyan Thug's head again.
Sappy Swing + Flank + Inspire: 1d20 + 4 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 4 + 2 + 1 = 201d6 - 1 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) - 1 + (1) = 3

A glancing blow unfortunately, not exactly what 'Victor' was hoping for. He then gives the warrior a look of... KO that guy quick before I get surrounded!