Dot in here as well, please.
Dot.
Dot
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Martial Law comes to Kintargo!
The Glorious Reclamation - an overzealous faction of Iomedaean Knights - has succeeded in defeating the Hellknight Order of the Godclaw in distant Isger. They have spread word to all of Cheliax, calling for other believers to rise up against Asmodeus and House Thrune.
Barzilai Thrune has volunteered to take charge of enforcing martial law in the port city of Kintargo, located in northern Cheliax, in the county of Ravounel. Queen Abrogail II gladly sent Barzilai, both to get her cousin out of her way, and to put a Thrune in power in a place where nobody else wanted to go. Kintargo was, after all, known for its rebellious, free-spirited nature even before the recent rise of the Glorious Reclamation, and this, coupled with its remote location, made it an undesirable post for most Thrunes. The Queen promoted Barzilai to the status of Paracount, and sent him north, along with a contingent of Dottari, the Chelish Guard.
10 days ago, the mayor of Kintargo, Jilia Bainilus, disappeared. Some say she has been captured, others say she's been killed, and still others say that she's abandoned Kintargo, and that she'd been seen on a ship bound for Arcadia.
Three nights later, on what is now called The Night of Ashes, Thrune's men struck without warning, trying to drive off, capture, or kill any known or suspected dissidents. Groups such as the Sacred Order of Archivists, the Bellflower Network, and the underground followings of Sarenrae and Milani were attacked, as well as the homes of several noble houses.
The Bellflower Network is a group dedicated to the liberation and rescue of Halfling slaves in Cheliax.
Little is known about this group except that they were a band of Iroran scholars dedicated to the protection and restoration of Chelish/Kintargan history
In the wake of these terrible attacks, Barzilai Thrune has issued a number of Proclamations, all posted liberally throughout the city for everyone to see.
Proclamation the First: All slayers of pests (hereby defines as doves, mice, and ravens) who present said pests to the Dotarri shall be rewarded with a bounty of 1 copper piece.
Proclamation the Second: All places of public business must display in a position of prominence within the first room accessible from the building's primary entrance a portrait of Her Infernal Majestrix Queen Abrogail II.
Proclamation the Third: Anyone who captures, alive and unharmed, a feral dog of a weight exceeding 50 pounds is to be rewarded with a payment of 2 silver pieces upon transfer of the dog to the Dotarri. Such noble guardian creatures should find homes worth of their kind!
Proclamation the Fourth: The right to wear fine embroidered clothing in public is hereafter prohibited to anyone other than agents of House Thrune or the Holy Church of Asmodeus. Exceptions can be awarded or purchased at the city's discretion.
Proclamation the Fifth: Grain is life! Should grain be spilled in public, it must be gathered, cleaned, and repackaged within the hour. Any person who allows grain to go ungathered after a spillage shall be fined 1 copper piece per grain
Proclamation the Sixth: The imbibing of night tea brings a dangerous imbalance to the slumbering mind. Between the hours of sunset and sunrise, the taking of tea is proscribed.
Proclamation the Seventh: The odor and flavor of mint is an abomination to the refined palate. Be not the cretin! Mint use in candies, drinks, and all manner of confections is hereby proscribed.
It is one week after the Night of Ashes. 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 Barzilai 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 may of Kintargo's dissatisfied citizens here on this overcast morning. There's been no sign yet of Barzilai 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 protestors, he surely can't ignore the scene on the streets below much longer.
As the hours wear on, more and more citizens press into the area. Barzilai doesn't take these protests seriously, but he has still stationed a dozen Dottari guards and one of his bodyguards, a scowling woman named Nox, in front of the doors to the opera house.
Listen for Rumors
Pilfer
Rabble Rouse
Search for a Contact
Silence Undesirable Elements
Watch the Crowd
EDIT: Each of these actions takes approximately an hour, so feel free to discuss and get to know one another as well. There's no rush to dive right in, but it's also okay if you don't know each other right off the bat.
Parai has gravitated toward Aria Park mostly due to coincidence and curiosity. She had no particular business in the area -- in fact she has no particular business anywhere right now, being a street runaway -- but she kept noticing people flowing in the park's direction this morning and overheard people talking that something was going to happen. Not entirely sure what was going on, she followed the flow of people, ending up on the outskirts of the park.
She hasn't heard much about Barzillai Thrune, or his proclamations, or of Jilia Bainilus' disappearance, or of the Night of Ashes. A whisper here and there, maybe, but she doesn't have the full story of any of those things by a longshot. Hiding and avoiding authorities has a way of cutting you out of the news loop. The one thing she's interested in right now, though, is finding a friend of hers, a Milanite worshipper, who had given her the encouragement to turn away from her family and religion. Unbeknownst to Parai, however, said Milanite may or may not have been caught up in the Night of Ashes.
So as morning dawns on Aria Park with a crowd of unhappy Kintargans, Parai watches from the sidelines, and gradually as it starts to become clear that a gathering is happening, she starts to wonder if her friend might be here. So she starts to investigate the crowd, walking among them, trying to keep her face hidden from anyone who might recognize her, while in turn searching to see if her friend is here.
I wonder how many people down here are more upset about the opera being closed down than about the arson. Onorix Jhaltero wondered to himself as he took a bite out of an apple. Sitting up in side of a tree, the young nobleman had gotten there early, as the protest was only just starting. At least half of them, certainly. The real question is if the number is closer to 60 or 75 percent of them.
The noise of the protest was rather troublesome to the young man, as he never been particularly fond of discord or strife. Nevertheless, even he had to admit that this crowd did have legitimate reasons to complain (regardless if those were the reasons they were actually complaining about). But more importantly they proved a useful distraction for his own activity.
Now... to find the needle in the haystack. Onorix thought to himself. He knew who he was supposed to look for- a man wearing a black leather glove on his right hand. It would take time to find him, but that was acceptable to the nobleman. Besides, it would be interesting to see how the protest turned out.
Onorix takes another bite from his apple as he scans the crowds, looking for the man.
What am I even doing here, Lydir?
The words are so soft as to be barely audible among the swell of the crowd's resentment; indeed, most surrounding seem not to even notice they've been said, especially with their source concealed by a mask that precludes someone even reading words on lips from afar. But one among the mass of chaos hears - it'd be hard not to, considering his tiny claws scrabble for purchase on the top edge of the very same mask that hides the remark. His gold scales scintillate in the sun as he heaves a tiny sigh, and he cranes his narrow neck downward so his nose almost pokes inside one of the mask's eye holes.
Oh, come on! You said you were against all this - well, this is how you let the ecshazazh know! No sound escapes the tiny pseudodragon's lips; his words are carried on thoughts, though his exasperated stare conveys volumes on its own. This is where things are happening today - can't you feel the excitement?! Everyone's united, standing together against him, and now you're part of it! And think of all the neat stories we can hear! One sound does manage to escape the pseudodragon's throat - a breathy chuckle accompanied by a tiny puff of smoke. Of course, if you want, you can go back to the inn...
His temporary perch matches his sigh - and his snicker. Well, I suppose you've got me there. This is more exciting than staring at those dingy walls. Skirting the crowd, a woman cloaked in fine-woven wool makes her way around the courtyard's edge, finally ending up sitting primly on the wide lip of the fountain. From beneath the cloak, a long, pale hand bearing a heavy silver-and-jet ring extends to splash at the burbling fountain water as the mask scans back and forth to take in the chaotic scene. Her tiny passenger takes the movement as an invitation, scrabbling down her neck, shoulder, and arm to splash into the pool.
The woman carries herself with poise, though it's apparent from how she avoids the thick of the crowd that she's unaccustomed to such happenings, and tension sets into rigidity in her narrow shoulders. As the pseudodragon emerges, water droplets glittering on his scales, she turns her gaze to the Opera House's closed windows. While she leaves the protesting to the other attendees for now, she is far from idle - rather, it is her ears and not her mouth that take the lead, as she sorts through the ocean of noise to find out more of what's happened in the week since her world turned upside down.
Tenzikil walked up to crowd, lute strung over his back. He weaved in, out, around,and under several people in the large crowd.
Wow. Lot of people here today. A lot of people expressing the weights of "law" that are enslaving them. A lot of people who need Desna's liberation. So why don't I tell them? Why don't I show them the freedom that I have been given? Am I afraid?
Tenz shrugged his shoulders to himself as if the answer wasn't obvious.
Do I really think she's going to be here? Probably not. But Shensen does share the political mindset that this rally brings. Where could she be?
A cloaked and hooded man, his face lost in shadow and a mask over his eyes, lurks in the trees. He remains unobtrusive; not necessarily hiding, but rather not obviously trying to hide if spotted. He does not stand out, and most do not give him a second thought.
They have gone too far, he muses. The Thrunes were always arbitrary, but they were also distant. Now they come in, do serious harm, and then mask that serious harm with a number of gratuitous and bizarre proclamations designed to rise public ire.
He thinks further. Or, perhaps, the proclamations are not cynical politics, but in earnest. In which case, the Thrunes are as blind as they think the population they would control.
Briefly wondering whether or not the opera house will be opened any time soon, and what that might mean for the careers of any aspiring opera musicians, Nightgaunt reminds himself that this is not his primary concern. He looks around at the crowd. Are they here protesting the proclamations? Or are they more worried about the harassment of Milani's faithful, of the fatal attacks on the Bellflower Network, the Sacred Order of Archivists?
Nightgaunt watches the crowd.
Abelard is in an unusually reflective mood - he has always thought of the darker rumours surrounding Asmodeus and House Thrune to be the work of troublemakers and rabble-rousers, members of the lower classes who have nothing better to do than gossip.
However, the past week's events (together with the long-suffering patient instruction of Serrit Flax, his father's captain of the household guard) have made him uneasily aware that even his rather cosy little world is not perhaps as safe and cosy as he'd thought.
After all, he thinks, a man who will stop a chap from wearing his best threads is capable of almost anything. Abelard hasn't outright defied the ban on wearing fine embroidered clothing, but he is dressing as sharply as he can: his crisp linen shirt is plain but immaculately ironed, and his jerkin is of finest calfskin.
He wanders through the better-dressed sections of the crowd, keeping his mouth shut and his ears open.
You all notice the stirrings of the crowd picking up in intensity, and the increasingly nervous guards tightening their ranks. Up above, in the third floor window of the opera house, you catch glimpses of a figure watching, mostly hidden behind thick curtains. The protesters seem content to simply shout and agitate, though a growing minority are showing their support for Thrune's recent activities, yelling back at the crowd.
You have no luck finding your contact. However, in your search, you overhear some things. See "Listen for Rumors"
You overhear a couple of fishmongers muttering and complaining about the recent arrests:
"I hear the Dottari guard towers are so full of prisoners now they're keeping those they arrest in warehouses. My cousin even said they're putting prisoners to work in places like Sallix Salt Works.
You've been a bit pensive, and get caught up in your own thoughts. As you contemplate the incalculable limits of a man who would dare ban fine clothing, you do not overhear anything of interest.
You catch a brief exchange between a street-cleaner and a chimney-sweep, griping about the brutality of Thrune's methods:
"Looks like Thrune's bringing public executions to Kintargo. I can't imagine that'll increase his popularity around these parts, even if the criminals he punshes deserve it. This 'doghousing' thing sounds particularly frightening!"
You hear a couple of local performers whispering to one another between juggling acts, trying to appear as benign and harmless as possible while still watching the movement of the crowd.
"Shame they closed down the opera house - I was looking forward to seeing Shensen in the role of Aolar in Huntress of Heroes. Of course, they say she's gone missing, too - wouldn't surprise me if she got herself thrown in some Thrune oubliette, the way she's gone on about the government."
You notice the crowd seems to be comprised of a few distinct factions of people, each there for their own reasons.
First, there are Kintargan partisans (who despise Cheliax's tightening grip on their city and demand local rule). Next, there are 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).
Furthermore, your keen eye manages to spot a pickpocket, lifting purses and valuables from members of the crowd. Additionally, you notice that some small number of the crowd seem to be gathering and organizing. It seems as if they may be planning something.
[ooc]Feel free to choose another action, based upon what you've learned. The list remains the same:
Listen for Rumors (Diplomacy or Perception)
Pilfer (Sleight of Hand)
Rabble Rouse (Diplomacy or Perform)
Search for a Contact (Perception)
Silence Undesirable Elements (Bluff or Intimidate)
Watch the Crowd (Sense Motive or Perception)
I'll let you reveal to the others how much they see.
Is the pickpocket stealing willy-nilly? Or just from Chelish loyalists? If he's stealing just from Chelish loyalists, Nightgaunt will simply smile and move on. In this case, he's going to regard the group that seems to be planning something, and closely watch what they do. For this case:
If, on the other hand, the pickpocket is preying on the general citizens, then Nightgaunt is going to try to sidle after the pickpocket, and eventually catch up and convince the man (or woman) to cease and desist, for he is being watched. I think this counts as Silencing Undesirables. He will let the man know that the Thrune guards are on the lookout for him, and he'd better not be seen doing anything illegal. To sneak up on him without tipping him off: take 10 on Stealth for 17. To lie to him ("Silence Undesirables"): take 10 on Bluff for 18.
I haven't moved myself on the map as I don't know where the pickpocket is.
Onorix had long since finished his apple, the core left in one of his pockets until it could be properly disposed of. He continued scanning the crowd, only overhearing a rumor about someone he knew little about. They really do care about the opera more than anything, don't they he thought to himself, shaking his head. Even still, he felt sorry for anyone who had wound up attracting Thrune's attention.
While he hadn't had any luck so far, there was nothing to do but keep on searching for the contact. It never was specified when he would be at the protest, after all.
Hmmm. Looks like no sign of Shensen yet. Probably a false hope. Still, there's quite a crowd here. It would be the perfect sized audience for The Ballad of Coren and Kade. They'd never hear me over this raucous though. This cacophony of chaos. This -
Tenzikil leaps up onto the fountain in the center of the courtyard under the former Opera House. How bout this show?
"Alright people, no one can hear anyone. What we need is some organization. GROUP UP!Partisans, over here. Conservatives, gather over there. Excellent! Democrats, over to the right. Anarachists, a little farther back. Loyalists,"well, you could all go back to your homes for all I care. "Loyalists, on the left now. Come on! Lively, now folks!"
Tenzikil leaps up onto the fountain in the center of the courtyard under the former Opera House. How bout this show?"Alright people, no one can hear anyone. What we need is some organization. GROUP UP!..."
[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+9
Parai slowly flutters around the edges of the crowd, making it a point not to get dragged into the center of things where she couldn't quickly escape. She listens to what people are talking about, and hears snippets of the recent events. Night of Ashes...? What's...oh my...and the mayor? And what is this about public executions? 'Doghousing'? What in the world is going on? she thinks to herself as the information percolates along her cortex. For a moment, she stops and leans with one hand against a tree, slightly out of breath, not out of physical exertion but out of fear...fear for what might be happening to this city. I thought I might have to leave Kintargo...but I never imagined I might HAVE to leave Kintargo...
As a performer leaps onto the fountain opposite her, the mask turns to face him, the expression beneath unguessable. For a moment, she tenses visibly, as if afraid of the attention being near him might bring, but soon she relaxes, letting his prominence and the fountain's concealment overshadow her. Her pseudodragon companion, however, looks thrilled at the development - he scrabbles back up her cloak to perch atop her head, his claws slipping downward to land on her mask as he watches excitedly. Look, look! A song, a song! he calls excitedly into his companion's mind, and a few puffs of white smoke burst from his nostrils.
Carefully she nods, doing her best not to disturb Lydir's footholds. I just wish the little slip had - But as soon as the perjorative escapes her mouth, she falls silent, and the pseudodragon spares a moment from his reverie to scowl slightly at her. Sorry - I wish the halfling had chosen a spot slightly further away. No...I suppose he's not a halfling, is he? Gnome, then, but they're usually so much more...vivid, from what I've heard... Receding slightly further back behind the fountain's spray, she keeps her eyes on the crowd and the unusual singer, drinking in the scene. A strange light, like a candle flame sputtering, flares in the mask's eyeholes as she surveys the events that unfold before her.
Something keeps Abelard from just wandering off in search of other amusements. He casts his jaded gaze over the crowd, looking for...
Actually, he's not sure what he's looking for. Abelard shakes his head in bemusement. What, exactly, is he doing here?
"Quiet down, slip!" the shout is audible over the raucous noise of the crowd, and several others begin to shout their objections at being called "loyalists" or "anarchists." A small, pale-looking gnome stands on the fountain and begins to strum his instrument, the notes clear and crisp, rising above the clamor. As the music increases in volume, several of the Chelish Loyalists begin to gather near the fountain, humming or half-singing along to the bits they recognize. Several onlookers nod in approval, smiling at the clever gnome for distracting the antagonistic members of the crowd.
The thief is lifting goods and purses from the crowd opportunistically, without regard for any mark's individual politics. As you approach the pickpocket, your movement is noticed by a member of the Dottari, who spots the thief clumsily attempting to remove a woman's decorative belt-knife. You spot the guard moving through the crowd, quickly apprehending the would-be thief. The woman turns to watch the Dottari, unsure of what is going on initially, when the Dottari points at you and nods in thanks, speaking to the woman in a murmur that you can't quite understand. She muscles through the crowd and smiles, a couple of gold pieces in her outstretched hand. "Thank you for pointing out that terrible man, sir! This knife is a family heirloom, and I would've been devastated if it had been lost. I can't believe what this city has come to!"
After the chaos of the arrest dies down, you catch some glimpses of a group of men handing small, discreet clubs and blades to one another, muttering and gesturing to each other.
From your perch, you notice a couple of things happening at once. First, a cloaked man moving through the crowd, and then a Dottari guard arresting a different person and hauling him out of the crowd. Neither is wearing a single glove, sadly.
Second, a few feet away, a bleachling gnome hops onto the fountain and begins playing music. The crowd begins to react angrily, but seem to be appeased as the song picks up.
Additionally, from immediately below you on the ground, a middle-aged couple stands in the shade, pointing at the harsh-looking woman at the front door to the opera house. "I hear that bodyguard of Thrune's, that woman Nox, is a half devil. She's too ugly to be human, that's for sure!"
Finally, immediately below you, leaning against the tree you're perched in, is a woman you recognize - Parai Sarini, your sister-in-law-to-be.
As you watch the crowd, you witness a Dottari guard rushing into the crowd, which initially causes some small hubbub, though it dies down as he cuffs a pickpocket with the butt of his sword, arresting him and hauling him out of the park. Additionally, you catch sight of a group of men circling together near the cluster of trees, passing sticks, clubs, and small blades to one another, and gesturing towards the Dottari and the door to the opera house. They seem organized, like they are planning something, though you're not sure exactly when.
Above you, dangling from the tree you're leaning against, is a boot you recognize as belonging to Onorix Jhaltero, your sister's reluctant betrothed.
You are enthralled by the gnome's performance, and notice nothing new among the members of the crowd, though the gang of brutish-looking fellows nearing the fountain seem to be distracted from their previous rioting, and are instead singing along and cheering for the young gnome.
As you watch the crowd, you catch sight of the gnome's performance, pulling the attention of a handful of rabble-rousers away from the opera house. You also notice the Jhaltero boy perched in a tree, and the youngest Sarini lady leaning against the trunk of the same tree, nearest the fountain. Beyond that, you notice a cloaked figure pursuing a man, and the subsequent arrest of the pursued by a Dottari guard, who drags the man out of the park.
Finally, the you all begin to notice that the crowd is becoming restless with the lack of response from Barzilai, despite the visible movement behind the third-floor curtains. It is clear to most of the protestors that Barzilai must be watching, which makes his silence and absence all the more distressing. The guards are becoming more agitated, forming a semicircle around the door, ready to spring to action at the first sign of resistance or violent action.
He will sidle closer to where the clubs and blades are being handed out. He wants listens carefully, to see if he can overhear what they are saying to each other, what instructions are being given, and hopefully to figure out what they're planning and whom they represent.
(This would be either Listen for Rumors or Watch the Crowd; probably the latter. )
What the --? That's odd, Parai thinks to herself as she glances upward to the tree she is under, spotting of all things a boot not attached to anyone. What's that doing there, and...hang on, it looks...familiar? I've seen that boot before. I think. Or one like it. But why would that boot -- or any boot for that matter -- be up that tree? She reaches up, to see if she can reach high enough to grab the boot and take it. Then, whether she manages to obtain the boot or not, she looks around Aria Park again, momentarily having been distracted from the proceedings by the odd boot, but now her attention returning back to the demonstration. She narrows her eyes as she takes in the various happenings -- a little Dottari hubbub, and more curiously a particular group of people. It's the latter that draws her focus, and she begins to inch closer little by little, trying to figure out what their plan is. Are they planning to openly defy the authorities? This could turn ugly. Oh, Milani, if only I knew the right course of action.
The thoughts that ran through Onorix's mind at the sight of the Sarini girl consisted of many words that had no place in impolite society, let alone a polite one. After the initial wave of displeasure long associated with his being required to interact any member of that particular family passed, he realized something.
Wait... she's been missing for several days now. Evana hadn't let it slip, but he had overheard some servants gossiping about it during a visit he had payed to her a few days ago. He had been so focused on finding any scrap of information he could about his sister that he had barely given Parai's absence another thought.
She seemed worried, from what he could tell... but no matter what, it wouldn't bode well for him to be spotted with her. He was going to turn his attention away when he felt her tugging on his boot. No point trying to hide now. He thinks to himself. Taking a moment, he slips out of the tree and lands on the ground right next to the woman.
Onorix took a few quick moments to look the young woman over- it was clear that the last few days at least had not exactly been spent in the lap of luxury the noblewoman was used to.
Plenty of questions raced through his mind, but the nobleman settled for asking the simplest one first, "What in Asmodeus's crown are you doing here?" The look on his face is one of open curiousity, free of any sort of malice... or pity, for that matter. Onorix felt no desire or need to stand on typical noble customs. Not when a large part of him was thinking if returning the girl back to her family might be enough to get him out of the marriage contract.
Then again, I'm the heir now. I'm worth more than she is, probably. He kept that particular unpleasant thought to himself.
Using studied target on Parai- no combat intention, just for the bonuses to sense Motive it would give. Move action, if it matters
I have no idea if you want any sort of dice rolls occurring between players or not Hedwick. If not, feel free to ignore this. It's what he would do in the situation she it was an NPC, so I figured I'd err on the side of including the action.
Sometime after the next batch of IC dialogue, Onorix will try to go back to searching for the contact, so I'll make the roll for it now.
Abelard frowns on seeing the figure hiding in the tree: a chap skulking like that might be up to no good. He saunters a little closer, keeping the crowd between him and the tree, paying only passing attention to what they're saying.
As the last verse of a song fades, Tenzikil uses his higher position, standing on the fountain to see if can spot Shensen among the crowd assembled in front of the old opera house.
Where could she be? What would get her attention? What would Shensen do if she were standing in my place? And then he knew what to do.
Tenzikil restarts the tune he just finished, but this time sings words over his lute unfamiliar to the crowd. The words are his own. Desna, help me. Give aid to freedom, there is none here.
"Oh citizens, so true and brave, Who would Kintargo save?
Thrune’s fist of cruel persuasion grips to suppress this nation
Let us all united stand, stop the Thrune’s steel-fisted hand.
Not with fire or sword in hand, but by truth and inspiration.
Who fears to speak of all our hurt? Or those who burned the church?
Abundant proclamations, prevent due liberation.
Seize the chance before it's gone, sing aloud this joyous song
Kintargo is ours all and one - by truth and inspiration."
As Tenzikil sings a rush comes over him, adrenaline driving throughout his body, his breathing increases in excited anticipation from playing for a crowd, feeding off of their energy as well. Ah, this is living!
Parai's reaction to seeing a familiar face is not unsurprising for a runaway who's being hunted. No! They found me! her eyes widen, and she recoils in alarm as she recognizes Onorix. She tenses up, looking quickly around for any other faces she might know. I have to run -- I have to run *now*! Maybe they haven't surrounded the place yet! She runs into the crowd, making her way into the thickest part of it, wherever there are the most people, trying to disappear into the mass of people.
The masked woman stays quiet even as the tenor of the crowd rises to a fever pitch; though her face isn't visible, her body language is fearful. Backing carefully behind the fountain, she murmurs to the pseudodragon now curled around her forearm. If Thrune doesn't do something soon, this is going to get ugly...what good could these people possibly think this madness would do? They have to know that Barzillai's guards would put it down...
What choice do they have? the pseudodragon answers in her mind. This is what it's like for everyone else, Alliszah - everyone that doesn't have the money or standing that lets them demand attention. No one listens...and when people are ignored long enough, they'll do anything they can to be heard...
Alliszah takes in a breath as if to argue, but then lets it out softly. Perhaps you're right. Has it...has it really been so bad? Staying at the crowd's edges, she listens once again to the sea of now-angry conversation around her, trying to learn more of what's gotten the crowd angry enough to risk the Thrunes' guards. If I'd had someone put to work in the Salt Mines just for saying something out of line, I suppose I'd be just as angry, too...
Having little experience with runaways himself, Onorix seems surprised as Parai bolts off, seemingly afraid for her life. For a moment, he considers bolting after her- he knew now that finding her could be of some use to him- but decided against it.
I don't want to draw more attention to herself than she already is. He thinks as he watches her push her way through the crowd somewhat clumsily. Either she's done something wrong and is fleeing for her safety... or she did something right, and is still fleeing for her safety. He frowned as he made his way back up into the tree. Finding the contact is more important. Besides, I don't want people to think I'm any more than a bored nobleman with nothing better to do than watching the protests. Running into the crowd after her would lead to people asking questions- it was likely someone would recognize him. Such was the downfall of being of noble blood.
The family's information network might help him to find the Sarini girl later. He didn't know what exactly was going on with her, but he certainly wanted to find out.
The woman who handed you the coins seems to immediately forget about you after providing what she thought to be ample compensation. She turns to face the doors to the opera house once more.
As you sidle over to the pack of now-armed discontents, you overhear them whispering to one another:
"Of course we need to do something. On my mark. Ever since things got bad last week, Redroof and Temple Hill have become especially dangerous - that's where my Pa lives, and I hear the gangs there are getting awful restless. Especially the Red Jills' - I hear their boss has gone some sort of crazy."
It's clear to you that the gang intends to act very soon, and their eyes scan for nearby Dottari, though they don't notice you.
During your dash into the crowd, you bump into a young woman holding a child. She staggers forward, and you are brought to a stop. As you halt amidst the now-thick throngs of protestors, you overhear the armed men muttering to one another
"Of course we need to do something. On my mark. Ever since things got bad last week, Redroof and Temple Hill have become especially dangerous - that's where my Pa lives, and I hear the gangs there are getting awful restless. Especially the Red Jills' - I hear their boss has gone some sort of crazy."
It's clear to you that the gang intends to act very soon, and their eyes scan for nearby Dottari, though they don't notice you.
You drop to the ground just as Parai steps into the crowd, and lose sight of her amidst the throng. As you climb back into your perch, you are unable to notice your contact. The crowd has grown and swollen to fill the courtyard, nearly occupying the whole of the space and pressing against the line of Dottari guarding the semicircle near the door.
As you approach the tree, you notice a woman leaning against the trunk beneath the man perched in the branches. He drops to the ground, and she takes off into the crowd, quickly disappearing, as the throng of protestors is swelling and growing rapidly, pressing against the semi-circle of guards and filling the courtyard. As you near the tree, the young man hops back up into his branch, and a matronly Tiefling woman begins to shout, her shrill voice piercing the baritone rumbling of the masses.
"Someone's killing tieflings down in the Devil's Nursery! How could they! We're nothing but second-class citizens! They're even taking trophies! I'm not sure what kind of trophies, I just heard that from my sister's wife's hairdresser, but if it's true...! It sounds like the Slasher is back...JUST what we need in this damned town!"
Your song echoes against the walls of the opera house, resonating and filling the courtyard with your clarion voice. Several Kintargans are roused to action, raising their fists in the air and stomping their feet in time with your strumming. A chant is heard, at first from only two men near the fountain, but spreading quickly. "Let s all united stand! Stop the Thrune's steel-fisted hand!" They latch onto those lyrics, using them as a call to action and applauding you as you perform the remainder of your song.
As you play, your eyes scan the crowd, and perhaps due to the sheer volume of bodies flooding the courtyard, you are unable to identify anybody, really, let alone Shensen.
As you and Lydir discuss the general discontent that seems to be rippling through the crowd, you approach a pair of elves, obviously close friends, one of the men gripping the other by the arm, to avoid losing one another in the crowd. Your inquiry about the current state of affairs causes one of the young elves to scoff, before replying in a conspiratorial tone:
"The Thrasing Badger burned down a few nights ago. I used to go there every Toilday night to have a pint with the fellas, play some cards, and talk about politics like a pack of old men. They say it was another bar fight gone too far, but I know all of the regulars! They're all just a bunch of old professors and barristers...well, and my friends. It seems like a lot of places are burning down lately, between this, the Silver Star, and the old Victocora estate house. So, yes, it's definitely getting bad, Miss."
As each of you look around at the crowd, you notice that it has become much more densely packed than it was only a couple of hours ago. Additionally, people seem much more agitated, and the throng is swelling and converging around the doors to the opera house. The Dottari near the door are standing shoulder to shoulder, their maces brandished towards the crowd.
At three minutes after the hour, the bells atop the Church of Asmodeus ring out three peals. The crowd becomes silent, as Barzilai Thrune himself swings the windows of the third story open, while two of his men draw the curtains back.
An imposing man, dressed in red, orange, and black clothing, and with an ornate breastplate, emblazoned with an Asmodean pentagram and the cross of Cheliax. He is a middle-aged, with short, dark hair and a particularly cruel-looking mace proudly brandished in one hand, the other holding an ornate goblet. His face pulls itself into a condescending sneer as he clears his throat and begins to speak. His voice, a rich basso, projects from his lips, and is easily audible across the courtyard.
"Ah, my adoring little chickadees! I am sorry to say that I have not yet adapted to your quaint, cute, country ways, as accustomed as I am to the sophistication and learning of Egorian." He pauses, as if expecting laughter, his sneer growing into identifiable disdain as the crowd remains silent. "Nonetheless, know that I have heard your concerns, and that I appreciate your valued feedback, and I am certain that we shall eventually find a mutual understanding in the fullness of time. I take pride in updating Kintargo's quaint, archaic laws to the modern standards this city DESERVES, and strengthening its ties with the empire in these cruel times, but obviously I have approached my duties too...aggressively." He takes a deep breath, his chest swelling, his shoulders pulled back as he stands a bit taller, proudly looking down upon the crowd, now beginning to murmur and talk amongst each other. "You say you chafe at the presence of non-natives 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! He sets the goblet down and slams his fist on the windowsill as he exclaims this. "It is with a heavy heart that I issue this proclamation, in response to your demands.
While the view from the tree had provided some benefit in getting a good view of the crowd, Onorix found that his little perch was even better for viewing the Lord Mayor. So there he stands, in all his pride and arrogance. The prospect that he might in fact be looking at the man who ordered the murder of his sister and brother in law made his blood boil in a way he had never felt before.
It was... unsettling, and he found himself shaking his head. You don't know that yet. Getting all riled up will solve nothing and help nobody. Doug his best to set thoughts of wrath and vengeance aside, and to simply listen to what the Lord Mayor had to say.
Barzilai's new edict did little to quell his thoughts. For a brief moment, he thought the man was going to say something reasonable, that he was going to retract one of the more nonsensical proclamations. That's not only needlessly, cruel, it's ridiculously arbitrary. Onorix suppressed the urge of throwing the apple core in his pocket at the man, then suppressed the urge of paying someone to accomplish the exact same task.
From his own perch, Onorix looked down at the crowd, which seemed silent for a brief moment. Oh, they are going to absolutely hate this. He leaned back against the tree and waited for the crowd to react.
The crowd roars into action upon hearing the unfamiliar word 'squassation.' From somewhere amidst the mass, a handful of manure flies up towards Barzilai, who flinches and knocks his goblet, once full of wine, onto himself, spilling and staining his ornate clothing. His demeanor shifts from one of condescending amusement to bellicose ire. He bellows, "Enough of this nonsense! Nox! Run them off, arrest them, or kill them! I don't care which!" before slamming the windows and retreating into the opera house.
Below, near the doors, Nox immediately starts shouting orders at the Dottari, who step forward into the crowd. As they do, men and women throughout the crowd begin pulling back their cloaks, revealing matching armbands and truncheons. Nightgaunt and Parai, these are some of the gang of thugs you spotted before, who spread out during Thrune's speech in preparation. Sadistic grins appear on each of their faces, and the armbands identify them as members of Chelish Citizens' Group, eager to mete out some "justice."
The crowd begins to disperse quickly, people fleeing in all directions. Everyone except Tenzikil - treat all squares as difficult terrain. For the bleachling gnome, the crowd parts as they usher you wherever you need to go, each person raising a fist to their side and whispering "United Stand!" as they permit you easy passage.
A handful of Chelish Citizens eagerly rush into the crowd, ready to fight, swinging their maces wildly at passersby, a mad grin on their faces.
Turn order:
Nightgaunt
Abelard
Parai
Onorix
Tenzikil
Alliszah
Guards
But...how are ship captains supposed to do business, if they can't leave their ships? How are they to oversee loading, if they can't see their cargo before it's brought on board? How much time and trouble will this add for all the traders trying to sell to them? She may not have been the businesswoman her mental defences made her out to be, but even Alliszah could tell that this was pointless bullying, retribution that would make Kintargo wildly inconvenient as a port. Why would he do this?
But one swift glance around quickly tells her that it's not harbor disturbance or the possibility of losing trade opportunities that's whipping the crowd into a frenzy - it's the proposal of "squassation" as punishment for errant skippers. Whatever that was... Her education had covered many things, including some of the more common torture methods necessary to ensure the good behavior of a household of slaves (at the thought, her stomach roils), but this "squassation" hadn't been one of them.
Her queasy recollections, however, are interrupted by the pandemonium that erupts among the crowd - and one glance is enough to confirm that most of the instigators are wearing the symbol of the Chelish Citizen's Group. And those bastards don't even have the bureaucracy of the dottari to check their brutality... With Lydir holding her shoulder in a clawed death grip, Alliszah shoulders forward into the crowd, singling out one of the thugs. I hate to have to do this... You! she calls out as her eyes flash red, her voice taking on a strange timbre at once raspy and oil-smooth as she beckons with a long, narrow hand. My friend! Come close - protect me from this madness! Save your weapon for those who would harm me!
Nightgaunt, listens to the lord mayor, stiffening as he calls Kintargo a backwoods with no cluture. Sure, Egoran has produced some interesting music, he thinks, but they're too caught up in themselves to recognize any creativity from outside the mold!
Before he reacts in indignation, however, he remebers who he is right now, and remains passive.
When the new rule is announced, he wonders, there's no way he thinks that this will actually mollify anybody. Or is he that blind, that caught up in himself, that he really believes what he says? He's using the discontent as an excuse to tighten the thumbscrews further. But the way he announces it will only make people more restless...
Speaking of restless, he looks at the arming-up mob near himself. He suspects he might sympathize with them, but he's afraid that a messy bloodbath is about to happen.
Parai was working her way through the crowd and was emerging from it on the opposite side from Onorix, when things started happening. Terror at being captured dueled with her curiosity about the city's new leader, and she stopped briefly to listen to the man talk. Her forehead furrows as Thrune gets further and further into the speech. Ship captains? That has nothing to do with the peoples' complaints. Thrune is twisting their words to serve some agenda of his own. Then when the rising tide of dissatisfaction begins to rumble in the square, and the first open act of rebellion hits Thrune's goblet, Parai's eyes go wide. Milani! They-- they did it. Oh no, this is going to get ugly. I-- Do I have to help them? The tenets of the faith say I should...I...I think I should. Oh no, what are those people -- Parai's eyes narrow at the Chelish Citizens' Group thugs. I can't let them just beat these poor people.
With the chaos erupting, Parai momentarily forgets about her own dire straits and focuses on the open act of rebellion against Barzillai Thrune and the upcoming retribution for it. Though she hesitates, she decides to stand with the crowd against the Chelish Citizens' Group. When they brandish their maces and swing at innocent passersby, the die is cast. She fixes her eyes on the nearest thug with dead seriousness, and tells him, "I can't let you do that." With that, she's locked into combat with the thug, swinging her weaponless but sharp-nailed hand at his face.
If she was, after her fleeing away from Onorix, close enough to one that she can get off a full attack, she also has a second claw attack.
Night-"Sense Motive -1"-gaunt feels surprise when the hoodlums reveal themselves to be Chelish sympathizers. Totally misread their discontent, he thinks. They're probably here astroturfing for the authorities. I wonder what "astroturf" is, anyway? What an odd expression.
He pushes his way through the fleeing crowd to get closer to two of the thugs. () He gets close to two of them, and says in a low growl, "Do not hurt any innocents!"
He figures that this is likely to redirect any attacks they might make towards him. He hopes he doesn't regret that.
Blue: :
Since he makes his save, he snarls at Parai, who just took a chunk out of his cheek with her clawed nails, and swings his mace viciously, bloodlust in his eyes.
The others move towards Nightgaunt, swinging cautiously with their maces, hoping to capture or incapacitate the man who dared to growl orders at them.
Yellow :
Red :
Green :
During the fighting between Chelish Nationals and members of the crowd, you all notice that many of the protesters are fleeing the park, escaping down the streets leading away from the courtyard. Additionally, from someplace in the crowd (none of you see exactly where) a dagger comes hurtling through the air at Nox, who is standing in the middle of the only clear space in the crowd. The dagger sticks cleanly into her throat, and she begins to laugh maniacally, reaching up with one hand to remove the weapon and toss it to the ground. She snarls an order to the nearest Dottari, and you all watch as the gash in her throat heals, skin reforming mere seconds after she removed the blade. After a moment, her and her retinue of Dottari guards all retreat into the opera house, slamming the doors behind them and locking them.
Round 2:
Abelard
Onorix
Tenzikil
Nightgaunt
Parai
Alliszah
Guards
The chaos breaks out in the park, several panicking protesters fleeing the seeing, each in a separate direction.
Now you've done it Tenz. Look at this mess! I've gotta get out of here. I'll probably be "squassated" for singing now. Whatever that means. Gotta go. Gotta save whoever I can.
Tenzikil straps his lute behind his back and jumps down off of the fountain. Then he starts singing (more shouting, really) the first verse he just sang.
"Oh citizens, so true and brave, Who would Kintargo save?
Thrune’s fist of cruel persuasion grips to suppress this nation!"
Seeing himself surrounded by more Cheliax-sympathizing thugs than he wants to take on by himself, Nightgaunt pulls back from them towards the gnome bard who seems to be on the right side of things.
(Withdraw action, pull back 15', which is 30' of movement.)
Onorix feels his blood run cold at the Lord mayor's reaction to the crow. He's serious. He's actually serious. Seeing the Chelish Citizens thugs appear from the crowd causes his eyes to widen alarm.
He had made a calculated decison to let the Sarini girl go- but that was too risky now. He had no faith in the typically non-existant mercy of Chelish law enforcement. Still not wanting to expose himself to danger- or possible identification, he uttters a single word under his breath and vanishes before hopping out of the tree. As the crowds flee away from the Opera house, Onorix wades through them trying to find the girl. Hopefully she's got enough sense to run away. If she gets caught by the dottari, it'll harm both of us.
As the crowd flees, Onorix looks around to try and find her while doing his best to ensure his invisible body doesn't get trampled by the crowd.
Using up two uses of my Disappear spell like ability over the course of two rounds, Onorix makes his way through the crowd. 2 standard actions used (the spell like ability), and two movement actions through difficult terrain over the course of two turns.
Possibly unneeded perception check to find Parai, as you mentioned I lost her in the crowd earlier.
A string of foul words rushes through Alliszah's mind as she watches the thug swing at the bare-handed woman next to him. Then she remembers...separated from the stilted decorum of social gatherings, there's no reason to keep them only in her mind. You loathsome heap of otyugh s%@* - I said stop! At the final word, her eyes once again flash red, and her voice swells with a sonorous tone of command, echoed by a strange trilling that seems to come from a pendant that hangs around her neck. You! she calls out, trying to catch the strange woman's attention. I've tried to stun him - get back here!
The crowd rushes around her, but amid the chaos Alliszah hears a voice to her right - the gnome who had sung so brilliantly during the protest. And now, even more than before, his simple verse stirs something inside of her...a boldness she'd never realized she had. Her entire life before had taught her how to fight for herself, win her own victories - but his verse speaks of something different. Victory won for others' sake. Fighting the tide of humanity rushing from the square, she makes her way toward the gnome's voice and finds a small knot of others assembling before the fountain. Wordlessly, she takes a place next to the strange performer, sizing up the lone thug taking on the woman and the knot of goons clumped to her right. Her next words come out tremulous, but resolute. So...what do we do?
Nightgaunt, who hears what Alliszah has said as he's backed into the same area, says quickly in a low voice, "Keep near each other in a defensive posture, so they can't surround any one of us. Beat them senseless. Try not to kill them; that will only further give the government cause to tighten the screws."
"Ungh!" Parai gasps out as the thug's mace cracks across her face and sends her head reeling backward a moment. Stars and twittering birds circle around her head for a fraction of a second until she manages to re-center herself, and her eyes narrow, focusing on the thug that had just struck her. "You son of a --", she starts, but then gets caught off-guard by the sight of Nox plucking a dagger from her throat and healing up. "What in the world --?"
She manages to just barely duck from another of the thug's attacks, and retaliates again with two claw strikes of her own.
Tenzikil: Singing is noted, round 1/8 per day
Nightgaunt:
Movement is noted
Onorix:
Movement is noted - you do spot Parai, as the crowd is dispersing enough to spot her, though it's still pandemonium, and people are still hampering movement.
Alliszah:
Movement is noted
Parai:
Both of your hands catch the thug's exposed flesh, raking across his face and bicep, leaving gashes and causing the man to shriek in anger and pain. Your fingers dig in a bit harder as you hear the gnome's song rise above the crowd, rousing your passion and causing you to strike just a bit harder.
Abelard:
As the crowd begins to fight, Abelard moves forward to stand in front of the singing gnome. "The hooded chap is right. Things will be a bit rough around here for awhile, no need to invite anything more."
Blue: The man reels, stupefied, his mace-arm dropping to his side, the other hand reaching for his head as he shuffles on his feet, as if regaining his balance.
The other 3 begin to close on the group of people clustered near the fountain and not fleeing. They wade through the bustling throng, and menace twinkles in their eyes as they bring their maces to bear, their posture confident, their attacks almost nonchalant.
Green: Move and attack v. Onorix
Red: Move and attack v. Nightgaunt
Yellow: Move and attack v. Abelard
From inside the opera house, you hear commotion and shouting. Outside, the protesters are shoving one another, scrambling as fast as they can from the armed men. You all hear a middle-aged Tiefling woman shouting hysterically. "RUN! YOU'LL BE DOGHOUSED!" She seems to be screaming at nobody in particular, just imploring the crowd to flee.
Round 3
Abelard
Tenzikil
Onorix
Parai
Alliszah
Nightgaunt
Guards
Parai glances over her shoulder when Alliszah tries to catch her attention. Fortunately, just that moment, the thug was dazed, so he did not take advantage of Parai's momentary lapse in focus. "Just a moment!" she calls out to the occultist. "This person tried to beat down innocent bystanders! That is illegal by Asmodeus' law, and I will ascertain some punishment for it!" Ah, Parai, you might have turned away from the church of Asmodeus, but do some teachings still linger on? Gritting her teeth venomously at the lawbreaker, she gives a full-on bashing with her both hands, trying to make sure that the thug will feel his crime in the morning.
Onorix watches Parai claw a member of the Chelish citizen's group into a bloody mess. Well, that's new. He thought to himself, greatful that he didn't receive that sort of treatment when she saw him initially, before the protest had become a riot.
I'll find her later. I'll just follow the trail of blood. he decided. Looking to his right, Onorix sees a trio of guards trying to way lay into a group of protestors. Quickly glancing at the group, some of them seemed to be nobility of some sort- none that he immediately recognized, but there were few better ways of making an acquaintance than.
Stepping around one of the loyalists, Onorix pulls out two weapons and brings the pummel of one down on one of them when he isn't looking, saying nothing as he makes the strike.
Five foot step diagonally so I'm flanking the green guard with Nightguant. Posting from mobile, can't move my token yet. I should be able to move it tommorow.
Move action- drawing two regular short swords.
Standard action- one attack on green enemy unit, going for non lethal damage, so with a -4 penalty and a +2 bonus from flanking, and another +1 from the bardic inspiration .
Abelard frowns as he finds himself backed against the fountain with no real route of escape - except through the Chelish citizen-thugs. He gives a slight smile: he'd rather not fight the Dottari, but a quick brawl with a few lowlifes is another matter.
Stepping in quickly, he sends a sharp kick at the nearest thug's kneecap, aiming to knock the man down.
Unfortunately, there's a difference between a ringside fight and the real thing - adrenaline and emotion throw off his normal poise.
What am I doing, singing at a time like this? And worse, singing a song defacing the Lord-Mayor hisself? What's gotten into me?
Tenzikil tucks his lute under the strap around his back and stares at the thug to his right, raising a hand to him, focusing on the thug's eyes, muttering in Sylvan.
Wait, is that...? But Alliszah's confusion at seeing Parai Sarini tearing into a thug bare-handed can wait. For the moment, she remains with the fountain at her back, staring down another of the thugs and trying to overwhelm his mind. Lydir, some help? But the pseudodragon takes one look at the menacing thugs and shakes his head slightly, his eyes wide. Apparently the reality of fighting is a little more jarring than his imagination had allowed, and Alliszah's harsh manner does little to help overcome his fear.