|
It's been roughly one week since Barzillai Thrune arrived and started to squeeze the life out of Kintargo. The days of being able to conspire in the Longroad Coffee House are quickly coming to an end as aggressive action from various "Thrunie" organizations become more frequent.
There was indeed a protest in Aria Park earlier in the week, but it was small, and quickly scattered by the Hellknights of the Rack the Paracount imported from the south. A few other protests have popped up here and there. Most were diffused by the dottari, sometimes harshly but more often simply through intimidation.
Just two days ago the Chelish Citizens Group nearly beat a man to death, eager to please Barzillai and somehow tensions have grown even thicker. Many people whisper that something must be done but few enough seem willing to do it, whatever it is. Then word starts to spread of an even bigger protest back where it all began, in Aria Park. "This biggest one yet!" You hear, and at first you assume it's just an exaggeration. However you hear it again and again from different sources, soon it seems that everyone in the Silver City is going. It's hardly an opportunity you can pass up.
Finally, it's the morning of the protest. 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, who received his position 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. 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.
______________________________________________________________
Euphemia 'Femi' Ferka is bald, carefully shaved on a regular basis so as to show off his very fine tattoo. The tattoo is of a stylized pseudodragon whose tail is coiled around his neck, stylistically ‘clinging’ to the back of his head, and just peering out over the top (barely visible from the front over the top of the head) as the tiny dragon looks out onto the world. The tattoo is lightly colored in greens and blues and is very beautiful, if you’re into that sort of thing.
From there, the gaunt man is dressed in several layers of homespun cotton, also brightly dyed, and a light silk scarf - a gift from one of his lady friends back home as a remembrance. He has several scarves, but only sports one at a time.
He wears heavy well worn boots. He has a large sling bag over his shoulder and chest with a variety of clanking objects within. A light crossbow hangs at his waist along with a dagger that sees more use in dinner than in combat. He carries a quarterstaff, but as a walking stick more than anything martial.
He wanders around the crowd, chatting with folks here and there and generally having a good time. These are his kind of people. Passionate, willing to risk something to make a better place for themselves. Good people. But he's looking for someone in particular...
If he spies Kalem, he'll stop a while and chat with him. "So you made it to the protest, congratulations! Say, I don't know if you're still for hire, but some of these protests can get a little unwieldy. Maybe we can watch each others backs? I've a gold coin for you if you'll take the commission. I'm not terribly good in a fracas." he points to his staff, "This has seen more of my blood than any enemy - I keep knocking into it!" he laughs.
"Oh, and I'm looking for a man with one black glove on his right hand and no glove on his left. Let me know if you spot him, won't you?"
Elias had told himself he'd avoid events like this. Swore it even, though not with any oath he'd find particularly binding. This kind of foolishness is how you get your name marked, and your wrists fitted for chains. Yet, for all that he distrusts the current government and it's allies in the city, he simply could not stay away. Elias always enjoyed playing for a crowd, and there was no better crowd than an angry crowd. They had an energy you could find nowhere else.
A musician had to be careful though. If you were good, you could ride that fury to great heights, but usually it just crushed you underfoot.
Sometimes literally.
It was perhaps foolish of him to come to the protest armed and armored. If this did turn into a riot to be quelled, the scale mail, shield, and blade would pick him out as a target for sure. Being six feet and a hand tall wouldn't help matters during a riot either, but at least he could see over most of the humans, well enough to spot a nice fountain to start playing near. People were usually already in a mood to toss a few coins when they were standing next to a water fountain, so they might as well toss them at Eliastraza. He might be here just to stay up on current events but there was no reason not to make some coin at the same time.
He began to slowly push through the crowd.
"Dammit Femi, when you invited me to you didn't mention the sea of people that would be here?"
Kalem was standing amongst the crowd, a wave of chittering and chattering nervousness in a sea of humanoids. Femi had told him where to meet him on the day of the rally, but it had been quite a chore to find him. He was starting to wonder if he should have tagged along.
I swear if someone elbows me in the side one more time...
He sighed, and turned back to Femi, his aggravation subsided.
"Keep you piece friend. I'm a fair man, and I can understand that a partner to rely on would be to my advantage. I'll watch your back if you watch mine."
Even though he wasn't one to start violence unprovoked (and unpaid), the tumultuous emotions of the crowd were affecting him too. And if the size of this gathering was any indicator, that was in no way a good thing.
"Though, I have no idea about this one-gloved man business.
Brask stopped at the bathroom of the coffee house before heading to the protest. He seems to bang around inside for a few minutes before stepping out. In the place of a simple scarred dockworker is a battle-scarred veteran in well maintained scale mail. He pulls his travelling cloak on over the armor to help shield against the chill of the morning, but not before patrons see that he has a falchion slung low on his back. He rolls up the ruck sack, shoves it in a belt pouch, and picks up his hardwood walking stick.
Brask Ulbreaker is a large man, even before the armor. Sinewy frame and corded muscle pointed him as a strapping man in his mid-twenties. He had short cut black hair with a peppering of gray along the temples, and sharp green eyes. His skin, as befitting one with orc heritage, is an ashen green color. He has a tusk jutting from the left corner of his mouth, but a multi-pronged scar on the right corner where the tusk's partner would be.
The man looks around, using his walking stick and cloak to help reduce how prepared for a fight he really is.
I know this is going to end badly, but I would rather wear it now than try to put it on if... when violence breaks out.
Brask will mingle with the other protesters, while not actively shouting or waving a sign, he is talking to others about what their reasons for protesting are.
Brask will pass by Kelem and Femi, double-taking and returning to them.
"Kelem!' he exclaims, some degree of joy in his voice. "I see you're not ready to lay down and let Thrune walk all over us, as well. Glad to see another working man here."
They hear the clink of his weapon tapping his armor under the cloak, and he gives a lopsided grin. "Well, I wasn't always a working man. That changed when I came to live in Kintargo."
"Its Kalem, actually."
That tusk of his must do a number on his pronunciation...
Still, Kalem was genuinely happy to see another familiar face. His study frame was no where near as large as Brask's, and he didn't carry a weaon either. Still, he was armed and confident he could held his own if anything were to occur. Though, now that he head Brask clink and clack in his arrival, he noticed armor and weapons were not unique to their group alone.
"Glad to see you're prepared for a scrap, but I sincerely hope we won't need all that."
Brask nods at Kalem's correction. "Sorry." he says. "Corner of my mouth don't work so great."
The half-orc shrugs after looking around. "It's been better to go to these things with armor at the least. When you need it, and ain't got it, you're usually dead."
He looks at the bald man who had attended the coffee meet before the protest. "I remember you from the coffee shop. You out of work too?"
"Keep you piece friend. I'm a fair man, and I can understand that a partner to rely on would be to my advantage. I'll watch your back if you watch mine."
Even though he wasn't one to start violence unprovoked (and unpaid), the tumultuous emotions of the crowd were affecting him too. And if the size of this gathering was any indicator, that was in no way a good thing.
"Though, I have no idea about this one-gloved man business.
"Fair enough, though I'm buying at the pub when this is over!" Femi grins widely. He lets the glove rest for now.
He looks at the bald man who had attended the coffee meet before the protest. "I remember you from the coffee shop. You out of work too?"
Femi tilts his head and thinks a moment, "Why, I guess I am at that, though I'm not near down to my last sovereign. I've been, of late, doing research, but it's not been overly fruitful. Still, we'll see what today brings."
"I, er, don't suppose you've seen anyone with a single black glove on their right hand have you? I'm to meet him here, but the crowd is thicker than I anticipated." He scans the crowd again for the man, or might be a woman? He's not sure.
"Looking for another friend of yours, Femi?"
"Looking for another friend of yours, Femi?"
"Er, not exactly." he grows uncharacteristically quiet, and pulls their little group to the side before continuing.
"Have you heard of the Silver Ravens? I've been studying them this last while. Ever since the crackdown, they've been lying low. Some say they were dispatched by Thrune. The man with the single glove is a member according to my sources. He'll be able to tell us what's really going on here."
He speaks in a conspiratorial whisper, though plenty loud enough for all the group to hear.
"Wait..."
"You asked me, to come with you, to one of the largest rallies ever held in the city, to voice dissent against the Thrune supremacy, as well as meet up with an agent of a secret society of rebels which may or may not have been wiped out by the Thrune already?"
Kalem gripped the horns on his head very tightly which extended from sides of his forehead before quickly jutting backward. His mother told him to grab his horns instead whenever he felt like punching someone who probably didn't deserve it.
Femi has one hell of a way of forgetting important details...
Mykhail skirted the scene with a watchful eye on Barzillai's men. He rolled his shoulders to release some of the pent up tension, comforted by the feel of his pistol resting against his lower back. He could always count on Iustitia.
As far as Mykhail could tell the Dottari have been pretty lax as more and more people joined in for the protest. He kept his wits about himself knowing that this would not be the case once the actual protest begins. He recited the mantra that had kept him going over the years during his crusade for justice.
Libertas, mortem impii
_________________________________________
Brask performs the second double-take of the morning, blinking at the tattooed man.
"Wait... you're with them?" he asks.
Oh s@~!. Associating with these people are going to get me killed.
Brask takes a step back, but before he can separate himself from the party-before his self preservation gives him inspiration to make up an excuse and keep walking, the fire in his heart flares angrily, as if in contempt of his leaving. The half-orc's step falters, and his eyes display a temporary razor-sharp focus as he steps back into place with the group.
No, I can't go. I wouldn't have ended up here if I was just going to run away.
"It seems like fate has brought me to you for a reason, 'Femi'." Brask says with a sigh, the razor-sharpness dulling to normalcy. "You can call me Brask Ulbreaker."
"Wait..."
"You asked me, to come with you, to one of the largest rallies ever held in the city, to voice dissent against the Thrune supremacy, as well as meet up with an agent of a secret society of rebels which may or may not have been wiped out by the Thrune already?"
Femi looks thoughtful, "Well, I suppose if you put it that way it does sound a little dangerous."
"Wait... you're with them?" he asks.
"Not exactly Brask. I would be with them wholeheartedly if I knew who 'them' was. Unfortunately all my research has led me to a rather thin lead here. And the fact I don't even know the name of the person I'm trying to find should tell you something."
"Oh, uh, it shouldn't tell you how good a researcher I am. I'm actually very good at that. Just that they're in very, very deep cover." He smiles hoping they understand.
"But relax you two. There might be a little scuffle with the Dottari, but nothing of substance I shouldn't think. Just like the other protests, if it gets hot, we'll just head out before the heavies come down."
"Now help me find my glove." Femi searches the crowd, looking for information...
"Right. One glove then."
Kalem begins to scan the crowd. All manner of folk here. Some rich, others poor, even young children whose parents could not leave them home, or were foolish enough to bring them along. Gods, the children. For their sake, Kalem prayed to a god he no longer believed in that nothing would happen.
"I take it this contact of yours will only stick around for the duration of the rally? Meaning if we can't find him before it ends we'll be out of luck."
|
|
As you all make your way through Aria Park, either alone or with companions, you note that more and more people are arriving. Yet the Opera House doors remain tightly shut, protected by a number of very nervous looking guards and their commander.
It's not long before the shouting begins, when it does, lines are clearly drawn among the citizenry who unfortunately do not have a single unified reason to protest, but instead shout a number of different demands trying their hardest to be heard over the rest.
"What's with all the new damn taxes?" Shouts a middle aged man somewhere in the front of the crowd. "How am I supposed to run my business when I can't make a profit?" His voice carries well and a number of supporters soon join him, arguing for better business policies to save their livelihoods.
Nearer to the west a chant begins led by a young halfling man dressed in rags. "No More Curfew! No More Curfew!" The occasional "Get rid of the Thrunies!" can be heard as well among the throng of his supporters as they cry out against the restrictive laws placed on Kintargans across the city.
To the south near the fountain the shrill voice of an elderly woman carries surprising weight as she gathers those around her to hear her impassioned speech. "What of due process? What of election? Are we to sit by and let this Elgorian clown run our Silver City without so much as a vote? He corrupts the law even as he ignores it! Out with Barzillai! Out with his thrice damned ass!" The roar of approval nearly drowns out anything else she has to say.
To make matters worse, loyalists wander the crowd, attempting to shout down anyone trying to be heard. They turn red in the face whenever Barzillai is insulted or threatened and more than a few point menacingly at their weapons, often shoving smaller folk out of their way to move along. A few opportunistic anarchists prod the crowd as well, doing their best to turn the protest into a riot to further their own goals.
_____________________________________________________________
something of note.
"This is starting to get out of hand."
"If you're here for Thrune, you're in the wrong damn protest. Get out!" Brask breaks off from the group to intercede on a Loyalist as they try to throw their weight around.
Elias, hearing the chant started by the halfling, grimaces. The thought is in the right place, but it needs a little more soul behind it.
He cuts through the crowd till he can huddle near the halfling, and begins to strum his harp.
The music he brings forth is not what most would associate with the instrument. Instead of lulling the crowd, it finds a discordant, assertive rhythm. His efforts, at least at first, are meager, barely allowing him to match the pace of the chant.
---
As the protest started, Mykhail noticed that the Loyalists were starting to weave their way through the crowd as if trying to intimidate with their presence alone. This left a bad taste in his mouth and so he started to weave through the crowd as well, following the Loyalists to gauge what they were up to.
Sure enough he watched as they began trying to shut down the arguments of Kintargo's residents and started to threaten them. He growled low in his throat and approached the closest Loyalist to shove them away when a half orc came into view and appeared to have the same goal in mind.
Mykhail approached the group and he shoved the loyalist back and gave the guy the coldest death glare he could muster, then turned a grin to the half orc and held out his hand.
"Anyone who is trying to shut these Thrunies up is a friend in my book, names Mykhail."
He watches as the factions get in the way of themselves and flail about. This is going to get ugly. There's no one in charge here to shape the message. What were they thinking? Who planned this thing?
He considers diving in with the rabble and trying to get a unifying chant going. He recognizes though that this particular protest is already doomed. His only hope is making his connection... the man in the black glove. He must help the leadership coalesce. Work from the top.
He searches through the crowd, darting here and there, watching hands, and not faces.
For all his earnestness all he finds are bare hands. Not a glove in sight.
"Femi, we're getting some really odd looks here. From people with and without weapons. Let's go about this smartly."
Kalem, frustrated about the mass of moving and shouting people, struggles to find Femi's contact, or anything really. He wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally wandered into a group of cut-purses, though they wouldn't find much if any coin on him.
|
|
____________________________________________________
It comes as no surprise that the protesters become increasingly agitated over the course of the day as Barzillai still makes no appearance. The thought that their chants and cries for change are falling on deaf ears only fuels the fire burning in the hearts of everyone present and the shouting gets louder and louder.
The guards look increasingly nervous but seem to have received no orders. The occasional patrol comes be and scans the crowds for any dangerous elements, but it seems that so far even the dottari have received no word about how to react to the protest.
Femi and Kalem wander, almost blindly, among their fellow protesters. The young Tiefling concurs that the park is indeed full of people, and that many of them are angry. Femi sees no sign of his gloved contact and seems to be growing something of a reputation among the crowd as fingers are frequently pointed in his direction. "What the hell are you looking at?" One woman in particular shouts when she feels him scanning her hands. She's quickly surrounded by her companions who glare at the varisian until he makes his way elsewhere.
Elias joins the chanting halfling and his throng of supporters, brandishing his harp to add his own voice to their cries for justice. The elf is his own worst critic, unhappy with his performance even as the protesters around him stare in awe, matching the rhythm of his song as they chant louder and stronger. The voices almost harmonize with the music, a couple people start stomping their feet or clapping their hands in an attempt to join in. Elias soon finds himself completely surrounded by passionate protesters, the halfling who started it all retreats into the crowd, allowing Elias the spotlight.
Brask and Mykhail spend the hour shouting or staring down the loyalists, making a point to interject whenever they begin picking on someone new. The other protesters take note, and it's not long before they're approached by three humans. "Name's Harley, I'm a tailor here in Kintargo." One of them shouts over the roar of the crowd as he holds his hand out. He's a bear of a man with thick arms and a beard thick as wool. He points to the other two humans behind him. "This is Liz and Reese, they got shops of their own. We're just here to try and keep our families fed, we appreciate you keeping the Thrune lovers in check, just wanted to say thanks." He nods and the trio melt back into the crowd to add their voices to the rest.
"Femi, we're getting some really odd looks here. From people with and without weapons. Let's go about this smartly."
"Right. Smarter. OK then."
Euphemia does two things to try and change the odds in his favor. Firstly he tries to think of the crowd as a number of smaller groups, maybe in a moving grid, and he goes from section to section methodically so he doesn't miss anything.
Second, and more important, as he reaches each 'area', he tries to ascertain what they want. What are they chanting? He finds the loudest voices and joins them, but adds a fist punch into the air for emphasis. In other words, he tries to get people to show him their hands, rather than hunting through the crowd for them.
Damn, Femi really switched things around. Lets see...
Confident Femi can handle his own business, Kalem is still concerned that someone will take advantage of the rally's disarray and set off the tinderbox of a mob. The most likely cause, the anarchists.
Having been in fights most of his life, Kalem will start to focus on what he knows best, using his demonic appearance and intimidating stature to approach the faction.
"Hey there. You know, I don't think what you all stand for is all that bad, spices things up and all. But given the situation we're in, and that you yourselves might get caught up in the crossfire, why don't we hold off on setting off the tinderbox right now, hmm?"
Brask joins in with Kalem, trying to do something to keep the Protest from becoming a Riot.
Mykhail grins triumphantly when the Thrunies seem to take the hint that there would be no violence as long as he had a say in it. He turned to find a mountain of a man followed by two smaller folks approach him and introduce himself and his friends. Mykhail smiled and shook each hand in turn and introduced himself as well.
"If you see any more trouble brewing you know where to find me."
He watched them walk away then turned back to the crowd thinking on what to do next now that they'd handled the Thrunies. He decided that he should listen in to see if he could hear any rumors that might help in his cause.
|
|
____________________________________________________
Femi riles the crowd and organizes the protest into a more unified mob. The loudest group by far are Elias' chanter in the back and the tattooed man inspires them to even greater heights. When he punches his fist in the air it becomes something of a salute and many follow the example, maybe too many as Femi can really only see the hands closest to him. That's no small amount of protesters however and it narrows his search.
Brask leaves Mykhail and joins Kalem in an effort to silence another volition faction of protesters but unfortunately neither succeed. The antagonists just laugh and disperse deeper into the crowd.
Mykhail decides to lie low after successfully silencing the Thune supporters and listens for any rumors and signs of injustice but Femi and Elias have been so succesful in their efforts to inspire the crowd that all he can hear is the chanting.
Elias
The increased effort of the protesters seems to be making a difference as he guards rake a few steps closer to each other, forming a wall of shields in front of the Opera house. Their hands don't go toward their weapons but there eyes narrow and they're clearly waiting for orders telling them to clear the area.
"Look, there he is!" Shouts one woman, pointing toward a window near the balcony of the Opera house. Anyone that does look sees the silhouette of a man in the window but the mayor still makes no appearance.
Femi figures his plan is working, he just needs to finish moving through the crowd so he sticks to his methods and looks hard for the man with one glove.
”You can see most clearly on a starless night.” he mumbles to himself as he scans the crowd.
Kalem is growing frustrated. He's never been good at dealing with people unless they were at the other end of a sack of coins. Still, he's not one to give up and face defeat quietly.
As the anarchists disperse into the crowd, Kalem hears the woman's cry of the silhouette in the window. Fearing a hail of thrown objects will start, Kalem will watch the crowd for any signs of trouble, ready to step in before things begin to get out of control.
Brask gets more than a little irritated being ignored and goes after the anarchs with real anger in his eyes. When he can pin one down he threatens to use them as a battering ram if they do manage to cause a riot.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Elias joins with the chanting and continues to play on his harp. It's notes, harsh and strident, are getting lost amidst the swell of voices, but the tone of it takes root in the crowd like a living thing. It is in no way a song that a man could dance to, but it IS a song that one could fight to, primal, raw, and above all angry.
---
However is playing that harp is doing a damn good job. Kalem thinks, scanning the crowd. Such a lovey, energetic melody.
Mykhail tilts his head as he listens to the crowd continue its chanting, the sounds of a harp being beautifully plaid joining in with the chanting, it was a melodious sound.. It was a wonder Barzillia wasn't showing his face to try to silence them all. Something had to be going on behind the scenes and he was determined to figure out what
|
|
_________________________________________________________
It doesn't take a trained eye to see that tensions are rising and the protestor are becoming increasingly hostile. There's an anger growing among the crowd that even the anarchists, before they're run off, seem susceptible to.
Mykhail listens intently to the crowd hoping to find any sort of information that may explain the mayors absence up to this point. He doesn't hear anything relevant to Thrune but he does overhear one interesting thing. "Take care when traveling through Red Roof or Temple Hill alone, the gangs there are getting restless, they say the Red Jills' boss has gone some sort of crazy."
Elias continues his performance for an impressive three hours straight, playing beautifully all the while. It gains him something of a celebrity status among the protestor and they instinctively move out of his way allowing him to travel through the park with ease.
Kalem watches the crowd intently over the next hour and he notices a disturbing pattern beginning to immerge. There seems to be some sort of controlling undercurrent stirring the crowd toward a more aggressive stance.
Brask patrols the crowd, single minded in his pursuit to clear the ruffians. Nearly all of the anarchists flee his fearsome sight after he intervenes and stops them from pushing around a young half-elf and his human friends. As the thugs back away the half-elf pats Brask on the back and laughs. "Yeah! Get out of here you bastards! Betcha' don't want more o' this!" She raises a fist aND laughs again turning to her savior. "I'm Rosemary, and you're my new hero! Let me know if I can ever return the favor!"
Femi works his way methodically through the crowd, searching hands to no avail. The hour is up and he's just about to throw in the towel when finally he spots a man with one gloves hand and one naked one! As he moves to approach the man the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus ring out three times, as they are known to do for reasons no one has ever been able to discover.
In time with the peals of the bells Barzillai Thrune (Link) throws open the window and pulls back the curtains as he stands over the crowd holding a glass of wine and wearing a sneer. The protesters surge, nearly knocking Femi to his feet and blocking his sight from the man he's been so intent to find!
“Ah, my adoring little chickadees. I am sorry to say I have not yet adapted to your quaint, country ways, being accustomed as I am to the sophistication and learning of Egorian. Nonetheless, know I have heard your concerns, and that I appreciate your valued feedback, and I know we
shall eventually find a mutual understanding in the fullness of time. I take pride in updating Kintargo’s quaint, outdated laws to the modern standards the city deserves, and strengthening its ties with the empire in these cruel times, but obviously I have approached my duties too aggressively. “You say you chafe at the presence of nonnatives in positions of power? That authorities not of this city have no place as its leaders? That you will not be yoked by intruders? Your lord-mayor hears you. And so it is with a heavy heart that I issue this proclamation, in response to your demands: all ships’ captains are hereafter barred from leaving their vessels and setting foot on Kintargo docks or streets, under pain of... let’s say... squassation!”
The crowd bursts almost immediately into a loud roar even as the guards move forward, a seemingly fluid movement perfectly in time with the announcement of the 8th proclomation. The protestor start pushing against the guards, howling in anger at the idea of torture being used by the government to control them. Things are getting worse by the second as Kintargans begin balling their fists and myers of the Cheliax Citizens Group make their way through the crowd, weapons drawn.
Elias lowers his harp to dangle on it's strap, and flexes his raw, reddened fingers. If not for decades of calluses, his fingertips would be shredded, bleeding meat by now.
The human is mad, he thinks. There is no other explanation. Barzillai wants a riot. He wants blood in the street. There must be a motive beyond simple carnage. He is a Thrune. They do nothing without reason. Whatever reason he holds now, though, will choke these streets with blood.
Elias knows he should escape. He should make for an alleyway and disappear. Make them pay for this in another place, at another time. His hand flexes again, and this time it closes around the hilt of his longsword.
A message from his lady? Fate? Happenstance? A quirk of luck? All one in the same, where Calistria is concerned.
He drags his blade out of it's sheath and prays that this is no mistake, casting a Disguise Self spell to hide his appearance before moving through to the front of the crowd.
"Thrune!" he bellows over the howls of the crowd, "You are a viper at Kintargo's breast! Your thugs are poison in it's veins, and your idiot laws will be cast down and trampled by your betters! You are no true master of this city!"
___
What in blazes is he thinking?!
Kalem was near slack-jawed. There was something unnatural in how the people were rallying, something he couldn't pinpoint exactly but it was definitely making the crowd more volatile. Then this Thrune had arrived and shook the crowd violently.
And now the tinderbox is lit..
With people ready to brawl, Kalem immediately made to the area he had left Femi. They had made their arrangement and it wouldn't do to leave the bald man alone. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to even take a punch or two by accident. But to be truthful, there was something about the way Femi carried himself that made Kalem feel he would be a great asset in case things got ugly.
And things were starting to get ugly.
As Thrune's last line was enveloped by the living roar of outrage, the fire in Brask's breast flares to the surface. He knew! The ruddy bastard knew this is what would happen.
He rounds the fountain, catching sight of a man shouting up at Thrune more forcibly than he could have. Just as well, he thought. It's past the time to speak. Now... Now is the time we settle this with steel.
Brask takes a deep breath, and roars his last words of the protest.
He draws his Falchion, a steel blade of Taldan design bearing many scratches along the sides but still bearing a sharp edge. The brass Lion-head guard and Lion-claw pommel dull and tarnished from age. He rests the dull back of the blade against his shoulder. As his cloak flares with the movement, it shows the scale mail to have the similar detailing and fur collar of a Taldan suit of armor.
Damn, that’s harsh, no visitors from other lands into the city? And what’s this squassation he speaks of? That doesn’t sound good. Must be some local Chellish custom I’m unaware of.
He looks for Kalem in the crowd. Time to guard the backs. He leans in whispering, ”I saw the man with one glove before that damn fool of a Thrune made his pronouncement. Let’s see if we can find him before the bloodletting begins. I think he’s over here!”
He tries to move through the throng toward the one gloved man.
Mykhail kept his head low as he listens to the crowd, feeling like he was almost in a sort of trance until he hears whispers from behind him.
"Take care when traveling through Red Roof or Temple Hill alone, the gangs there are getting restless, they say the Red Jills' boss has gone some sort of crazy."
Before he could think to much on what he just heard, he turned as the man of the hour finally made an appearance. He turned with a scowl as he listened to Barzillai spout his nonsense. He knew that no good would come of this.
He snarled as soon as Barzillai finished with a new proclamation banning captains from setting foot in their city. And just how were they supposed to trade their goods? Get their sick or injured men medical attention if needed? This was beyond insanity.
He's trying to kill this city. What could he possibly gain from this?
At the sight of trouble Mykhail steps up, unbuttoning his coat and letting it flare behind him as he finally reveals his weapon of choice. It's a little worn and has seen better days but she was reliable and gave him his purpose.
"Time to shine Iustitia. Libertas, mortem impii."He frees his pistol from it's holster as he mutters these words, ready for what was to come.
|
|
The crowd continues to surge and push against one another, threatening all hell to break loose, and judging from the Lord Mayor's confident smile, his move was calculated precisely to cause this reaction. Watching from his window he drinks his wine sneering. {b]"Oh gods!"[/b] someone shouts and for a moment, the entire protest seems to pause as a handful of manure flies through the air toward Barzillai. It smacks with a disgusting squelch up against the wall next to the window, but not before the mayor flinched, spilling his wine all over himself. His confident smile gives way to a crazed and wide-eyed fanaticism as he screeches at his guards below.
“Enough of this! Nox, run them off, arrest them, or kill them. I don’t care which!”
Nox, a scowling woman clearly in command of the local forces begins barking orders to her guards and it's in this moment that the protest finally becomes a riot. Even before the guards reach the citizens a knife flies deftly through the air and sticks directly into Nox' throat causing a surprising torrent of blood as the woman grips her neck. Small scuffles break out almost every where as people attempt to fight or flee, some are just caught between their fellow Kintargans and panic, seeing no other way to save themselves. Four thugs from the Chelish Citizens Group seem particularly in control as they knock people out of the way and shout their threats.
"GO HOME NOW! Or we'll kill you all!" One shouts waving his weapon in the air.
_______________________________________________________________
I'm borrowing this explanation from Femi in games that he runs:
You should post the round and your initiative. Please also post your current status near the top of your post. Your status should include your current/max HP, any equipped weapons, current conditions, and any other pertinent topical information (like the spells you have memorized or the arrows in your quiver). Please use spoilers for things that would scroll long (like your current status). Example (Link)
Round: 1, Initiative: 17
Weapon Equipped = Quarterstaff
Crossbow Bolts = 10/10
Conditions = None
Melee: Attack: BAB +0, Str +0 Damage: +0
Ranged: Attack: BAB +0, Dex +1 Damage: +0
toppling spell: Caster Level +4 Int
Arcane Reservoir (su): 3/4 (+1 DC or caster level as free action)
Spells (Caster Level 1, Concentration +5)
Special: (7/7) Force Missile*
Zero (14) (3/3) Dancing Lights
Zero (14): (4) Acid Splash, Daze, Detect Magic, Prestidigitation
First (15): (3/3) Feather Fall, Infernal Healing, Magic Missile (w/Topple Feat)*
* +1 Caster Level, +1 damage
”Easy there you brute, these are just peaceful protestors - there’s no cause for you to be so hostile!”
He starts by casting a simple Daze (Will DC 14), targeting Blue, in the hopes of keeping him from the fray. He then moves back a little so as to avoid combat, but he stays close to Kalem.
Round: 1, Initiative: 24
Hp: 12/12
AC: 16
Melee +1 Unarmed Strike(1d6+1/x2)
Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 17
Feat
Combat Expertise
Using Martial Flexibility, Kalem gains Improved Trip as a feat.
Benefit: You do not provoke an attack of opportunity when performing a trip combat maneuver. In addition, you receive a +2 bonus on checks made to trip a foe. You also receive a +2 bonus to your Combat Maneuver Defense whenever an opponent tries to trip you.
Kalem attempts to trip the combatant (purple).
"Watch your step!"
Round: 1, Initiative: 20
Weapon Equipped: Longsword
Condtions: Disguise Self Active.
Bit of Luck: 4/5 remaining
Spells:
0th: Guidance, Light, Detect Magic
1st: Cure Light Wounds, Obscuring Mists
Spotting a thug threatening the nearby Mykhail, who appears to be arming himself for the inevitable confrontation, Elias pushes through the crowd and faces the man, while rubbing the edge of his disguised harp with his fingertips, in almost a nervous gesture.
"Scurry back to your master, dog. No one fears you here."
Round 1, Initiative 4
Weapon: Falchion
Bloodrage: 7/7 rounds remaining
Destined Strike: 3/3 day
Power Attack: Yes.
Brask shoves his way through the crowd, coming up to the man while he's distracted with Elias.
Brask flips the falchion off his shoulder and sets the point down onto the flagstones with an audible *thunk* to emphasize the Elf's point.
Round 1, Initiative 9
Weapon Equipped = Pistol
Bullets (including Blackpowder doses) = 30/30
Conditions = None
Melee: Attack: BAB +1, Str +1 Damage: +0
Ranged: Attack: BAB +1, Dex +3 Damage: +0
He'd just pulled his pistol when the guards were suddenly upon them, Elias warning the one who stepped into his space. Nodding his thanks to the elf, he took a step back so that he could get a proper shot in.
|
|
Kalem succesful trips purple, knocking him to the ground where he fights to avoid getting trampled. Elias calls in a divine favor. Femi dazed one of the Chelish citizen thugs with a cantrip. Brask growls a threat and see the whites of his foes eyes even as Mykhail fires his pistol, the gunshot nearly deafening everyone in the area. The pierces the guards armor but misses any vital organs.
Green moves against Brask, taking advantage of a flanking position as he swings his mace at the half orc scoring a hit to the ribs.
Red finds himself suddenly surrounded by foes, he nervoisly sizes up each one, despite the bullet in his side he moves against Elias hoping to clear the chance of a flank against him. However his mace swings wide,
Blue stares off into the distance, miraculously undisturbed as the protestors riot around him.
Purple chooses to stand up, reasoning that a suckered punch is worth it versus death by trampling. Once up he takes a swing at Kalem but his swing is knocked aside by a man fleeing the protest.
Kalem - 24 (May take an AOO on Purple)
Elias - 20
Femi - 17
Mykhail - 9
Brask - 4 (5 damage)
CCG - 2
Green
Blue
Purple
Red (2 damage)
As the guard act you hear someone else shout in the crowd. "Oh my god she's alive!" A quick glance toward the Opera house shows the commander Nox rip the knife from her throat even as her bleeding subsides. She retreats into the building and slams the doors shut behind her.
Round 2, Initiative 24
Hp: 12/12
AC: 16
Melee +1 Unarmed Strike(1d6+1/x2)
Base Atk +1; CMB +4; CMD 17
Feat
Combat Expertise
(Improved Trip)
"Sorry friend, but you're going to need to cool off!"
Kalem swings a fist at the purple, aiming to hurt hard.
"And back down with you!"
Kalem goes to trip him again.
Just saw the armor post. will have integrated by next round. but for now
AC 16 (+2 armor, +3 Dex, +1 Natural Armor), touch 13, flat-footed 13
HP 12 (1d10, +2 Con)
Fort +5 (+2 base, +3 Con), Ref +5 (+2 base, +3 Dex), Will +0 (+0 base, +0 Wis)
Round: 2, Initiative: 20
HP: 9
AC: 18
Touch: 11
Flat Footed: 17
MaB: +2
F:+2
R:+1
W:+4
Weapon Equipped: Longsword
Condtions: Disguise Self Active.
Bit of Luck: 3/5 remaining
Spells:
0th: Guidance, Light, Detect Magic
1st: Cure Light Wounds, Obscuring Mists
The elf snarls wordlessly as the stampeding crowd jams Elias up against the thug in red who took a swing at him. He takes the opportunity to return the favor, swiping at the villain with his blade.