Dotting in
Kira arrives at the park, looking around curiously. So many people! Unfortunately, being half as tall as most other people prevents her from seeing much. Maybe I can climb up the fountain to get a better view?
From her new vantage point she watches the crowd, trying to get a sense of why people are here. A protest needs at least two things in order to be effective. First, it needs to be disruptive enough that the people in charge feel like they have to respond. Looking around again, she nods to herself. Okay, I think there's enough people here to qualify as 'disruptive.' Second, they need to be complaining about something concrete that can actually be changed. So, what are people complaining about?
Rutilus finds an alcove to lean against near the edge of the park and surveys the crowd from the morning shadows. "So many people... This can go bad... and quickly..." he idly thinks to himself as his fingers brush the pommel of his blade hidden beneath his cloak. Rutilus continues to look over the crowd as more people begin to show up and begins to get frustrated. "How exactly am I supposed to find my contact in this mass of people... I don't even know who I'm looking for!" he thinks as he grumbles.
Rutilus then mentally chides himself. "Remember what the Ol' Man taught you, 'Focus on the details.'" He then surveys the crowd with a renewed vigor. "The gnome on the fountain? No, my contact is supposed to be human with a single black glove on his right hand. Let's see..."
Pellius arrives in front the building that was to have been the launching place for his shining career before the recent troubles began. Damn that man for his arrogance! He had his pick of any and all the noble houses to seize as his own, but no, he had to pick the one building most cultured people care about in this town!
The crowds begin to gather around him, as he expected. Gazing around he tries to see if any other members of the theater or opera groups were present. I wonder if old Lodi-boy will be here. I remember talking about this with him over afternoon tea... it would be nice to have someone else here I know. Seeing a few heads turn as he passes and wave at him, he mentally adds as he waves back, Well, beyond the odd fan that is.
Coming toward the front of the crowd, the young singer grows impatient with the lack of their overlord's presence.
"Come out, Thrune!" he shouts. Not trusting the crowd to necessarily pick up the chant on their own, he focuses for a moment and suddenly "three other men and one woman" around him shout out the same thing.
|
Adonara is glad to see that the damp and overcast morning hasn’t put the crowd off, particularly because the weather makes her sombre garb all the more unremarkable. The young elf keeps her slender frame wrapped up in a long black cloak from which most eyes simply slip away in the grim morning: it would take a particularly alert, curious, or bored individual to notice the quality of the fabric, the slight contrast of the dark purple lining sometimes just visible when Adonara moves – along with a glimpse of her chain shirt, and the sword at her hip. She spends a few minutes wandering among the small groups forming as folk gather up, getting a sense for their mood.
As she works through the crowd, Adonara’s all smiles: friendly when she sees someone she thinks she’ll like and who’ll treat her decently, and razor sharp warnings to those whose interest is too aggressive for her liking.
After doing the rounds, ultimately she falls in with a small group of her colleagues, broadly conceived: a few ladies and gentlemen of the night from across the districts and ranks of Kintargo society. At first the conversation focuses on issues of narrower interest to the group, such as the obnoxious effects of the new curfew, and which apothecaries can be relied upon not to exploit the incidental ban on specific blends of night teas to profiteer from other formulations like the Lady’s kindness, before some of the more radical participants, including Adonara, start to sketch out the bigger picture and finding common ground with other groups nearby.
Was that Rutilus? the tall man asks himself as he approachs the gathering crowd. Indeed, Baolo thinks he spotted Rutilus, if only briefly, lingering around the edge of the park. This brings a smile to Baolo's lips. No matter the halfling's faults, Baolo always got a kick at seeing the little guy make off with a little coin before Baolo tosses out the occasional belligerent drunk. They normally had it coming for abusing the Lucky Drunk's gift so.
Working his way through the crowd, Baolo smiles after taking a drink from the clay tankard in his right hand. Wiping the ale that lingered from his bearded upper lip, the brown-haired man looks about as he takes in the sight of Aria Park. This is more like it, he thinks as he casually rests the palm of his left hand on the pommel of the slim rapier sheathed and peacebound at his hip. Enough with grumbling in the shadows...time for Kintargo to let its voice be heard.
Indeed, he had originally intended to simply add his body to the crowd, reveling as the crowd expressed its ire against the recent proclamations. He has promised his family he would keep a low profile after all. As his wide-muscled shoulders brushes past others in the crowd and his ears picked up the call of a particularly charismatic man calling for Thrune to show himself however, a desire to add his voice to the mix begins to build. Listening to the people around Pellius begin to add their voices to his own, Baolo adds, "Aye! Kintargo has a few questions for you Thrune! Come on out and 'address your people.'" Though angered at Kintargo's current state, Baolo's says these words almost bemusedly. In a way that seems like Baolo has little doubt that the new Lord Mayor would comply.
Lodoro arrives at the park, wanting to see for himself what is going to happen.
"Is this really the right course? Barzillai is clearly barking mad and needs to be confronted. But is violence the answer? War kills people and destroys many things.
Oh, for this grand building to be reduced to a mere home for a man of no morals and little worth. Alas for my poor city"
He suddenly spots his friend Pellius in the crowd and makes his way over towards him
"Hello Pel. You came down here too, eh? What do you think is going to happen? I'm hoping for a peaceful talk myself, although I'm prepared for violence if things come to that"
Pellius turns at the approach of his friend and former colleague. "Ah, Lodi, I was just wondering if you would make it! Come join the chorus line attempting to get our 'dear friend' to make a grand appearance from within what was ONCE OUR HOUSE!!!" the singer turns back toward the Opera House as he yells these last three words, letting the anger of the insult flow into them. Turning back briefly, he pats the longsword and quiver of arrows at his belt. "Violence, my friend, may not be the best answer. Being unprepared for it, however, is a worse one." Giving the poet a wink, he uses his magic to continue calling for Thrune to make himself available to his waiting public... simulating a wide array of different insistent voices.
"Come, lets lead a REAL song, shall we?"
With that, Lodoro starts singing loudly. The Chelaxian equivalent of
"we shall overcome".
Rutilus continues to survey the scene. His eyes briefly fall on Baolo, the barkeep. "Could he be the man I'm looking for? I've always thought there was more to him then he let on." A quick glace to the human's hand dashes is that hope. Rutilus is then momentarily distracted by loud chanting of "Come Out Thrune." He glaces at the crowd and realizes its being whipped up by a pair of opera singers.
Rutilus can feel the energy of the crowd growing. "I need to find my contact before someone lights the fuse. Maybe I'll have better luck from within the crowd," he thinks to himself as he pushes off from the alcove. He then makes his way into the crowd keeping one hand on the hilt of his blade while he keeps his eyes open for his contact.
"Nice pitch and tune, Lodi! You really have been practicing." Smiling appreciatively as the crowds begin to chant along with them, but irked by their... guest of honor... not showing up yet, Pellius decides to up the ante a tad. In addition to his own shouting and maintaining ghost chanting, he concentrates momentarily. After a moment four glowing spheres of light wink into existence around him. Having them hover over the crowd, he then has them change colors and brightness in tune to the singing.
I haven't heard of 'doghousing' before, but given the context I assume it's some form of torture. That's bad. Really bad. If Thrune is torturing those who go against him...
An image of her father runs through her mind, causing her to shudder. Dad, where are you?
Forcing herself to focus on the task at hand, she continues looking around the crowd. It looked like they were mostly discussing random rumors, rather than making a unified protest. Some people were yelling at Thrune to come out, but what would happen if he did? They didn't have any demands, as far as she could tell.
That had to change.
Drawing herself up to her full height, (not that it helps much), she yells as loud as she can. She continues chanting, hoping to get the rest of the crowd to join in.
It wasn't what she wanted, but it would be a start. The proclamations were insane, and the city was chafing underneath the recently-instituted martial law. Most importantly, it was a concrete demand for Thrune to respond to. If he ever did come out.
Smirking as the protest picks up, he takes another drink from his tankard. Eyeing his tankard when he sees it running low, Baolo pours some ingredients and whispers a formula to refill his mug with ale, seemingly by magic. Then, topped off, Baolo moves away from those gathered around the opera singer to a different part of the group. There, now among those a bit more tame, he began murmuring, "You know about the dottari raid on that herb shop in Redroof? I hear they burned the owner's stock and hauled him away just for selling a sprig of mint."
Baolo continues to pass around small fibs and over-exaggerations of things the dottari did on Thrune's order as he moved about the crowd.
|
|
The conversation continues to ebb and flow around her, and Adonara realizes that many of the people around her are running scared. She’s not entirely unsympathetic to some of the concerns she hears – and the goddess knows, Cheliax is hardly a model of open, comprehensive education – but whatever’s the story behind the livery she hears gossip about, she can hardly imagine the truth is so terrible that hoping for help from Thrune is a good idea. Still, there’s not much more she can do than plant a few seeds and see what comes up.
As she continues to scan the activities of the protest, Adonara watches more and more people joining in chanted songs and slogans. From where she’s seated, she’s particularly impressed by the voluble results of – she thinks – a gnome and two humans, the latter of whom sound like members of the displaced opera company. Speaking of planting a few seeds, Adonara thinks, after a few moments of consideration, this might be a delightfully serendipitous occasion.
A few minutes more to mentally sketch out possible avenues for the best-case in the long term, and then it’s time to start small. Getting up, Adonara starts trying to get a few more people to join the orator and opera singers, trying to leverage another of Thrune’s ridiculous proclamations and an apposite song.
“So, the Lord Mayor, as we know, is very concerned about grain. Well and good! I’m glad to see a city’s leader sparing a thought for the citizens,” she begins, ironically, starting to lead a few curious onlookers towards the singers. “But there’s more to life, and the people don’t deserve grinding down! We all need joy, and no one should be able to deny it to us!”
It’s been a few years since she seriously practiced, and Adonara knows she’ll never make a brilliant soloist, so she banters for a bit until she thinks she spots a musical opening before jumping in, after a prayer to her goddess for luck, and then, as people start to recognize the song, it takes off almost on its own: “Our days shall not be sweated from birth until life closes—
Hearts starve as well as bodies: Give us Bread, but give us Roses!”
Lodoro smiles at the Elf when she starts up her new song. Although she is no professional, her heart is obviously in the right place and efforts like hers should definitely be encouraged.
He whispers to Pellius
"Lets take up her song, shall we? Its new if nothing else"
With that, he starts joining in with
"Give us bread, but give us roses"
"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 you 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 ship's captains are hereafter banned from leaving their vessels and setting foot on Kintargo docks or streets, under pain of...let's say...squassation!"
Kira is a bit shocked by Thrune's sudden appearance. I didn't actually expect him to come out so soon. Maybe we touched a nerve?
Any hopes of Thrune listening to their demands are swiftly quashed by his speech. She listens in horror as he issues yet another proclamation, this one designed to directly strike at the heart of Kintargo's economy. It's worse than I thought. He's not just a madman drunk with power, he's toying with us. He's actually trying to destroy the city!
There was no point in protesting further; it would simply encourage his cruelty. If Kintargo was to survive, Thrune had to be removed from power. But how?
I'm just a student. I'm barely even of age! What can I possibly do?
She remembers her father, arguing with an intensity she'd never heard from him before. Kintargo is our home! If we don't stand up for it, who will?
...I will.
But not alone. Emboldened, she looks around the crowd again. Those opera singers seemed to be good at organizing people, and that elf might be a servant of Milani, given her choice of song. Maybe they can help?
She hops off the fountain and starts moving towards that section of the park.
Baolo began to doubt if Thrune would ever reveal himself as the second hour of the protest begins to draw to a close. Seeing the target of this protest show himself, the local brewer falls silent as he listens intently. Indeed, Baolo hopes that man would appease the crowd, only to grow stern as Barzillai issues another proclamation. This newest edict would hinder trade and taverns would suffer as those ships that still trade will not stick around long enough for its crew to unwind before setting sail once more. As the crowd vocalizes its discontent, Baolo adds a half-hearted boo as he gazed about the park.
The growing hostility in the crowd doesn't go unnoticed to the tavern worker as his eyes continue to look around over the lip of his mug, hoping to identify any possible hostility against those who are protesting peacefully. His hand discreetly untying the peace knot keeping his weapon bound in its sheathe, Baolo hoped what is to come would not result in violence...but he would be ready to face it if it did.
Pellius glares up at the usurper who stole his 'home' from him as he walks onto the balcony. Perhaps the man can see reason after all, he thinks momentarily before hearing the new edict. Frustrated beyond all reason, Pellius sends the dancing lights flying at the man, their range just enough to wink out of existence right in front of the sniveling man's face.
"Why don't you get on the nearest one and go back to your mistress, lap dog!" he calls up to the man "Assuming any captain worth his salt would allow you upon his ship for even as much platinum as you weigh!"
As a hush falls over the crowd, Rutilus looks up as he sees Thrune declare yet another proclamation. "And there's the match..." he mutters to himself. "Without the ships, food may be even more scarce. We'll need to-" Rutilus rumination is broken off as he sees a light rise from the crowd toward Thrune before dissipating and a man calling him out.
"Fool, does he want to provoke the Dottari to go after him. Once they get involved, this place will erupt into pandemonium." Rutilus thinks out loud to himself. Feeling the electricity of the situation in the air, Rutilus continues to search the crowd for his contact while now gripping his blade under his cloak. "I need to find my contact now and get out before its too late."
"Uh, Pel, making yourself a target may not be wise!. Quick, come with me"
Lodoro grabs Pel by the arm and tries to get him to shut down his spell and MOVE. He does NOT, however, attempt to FORCE him to do so (ie, I'm NOT actually making a grab maneuver or anything). He also readies himself to defend Pel should something go quickly amiss.
Allowing himself to be dragged away by his colleague, Pellius nevertheless continues to hurl insults at the man through his ghost sound chorus... which he sends in directions other than the one he is currently being dragged in.
Voices seemingly of all shapes and ages shout out at his command things like, "Go home, Thrune!" and "Usurper!" as the young diva is pulled by his poet friend.
|
|
Adonara is most grateful for Lodoro’s help, since it looks like it’s a tough crowd. Then again, she can hardly blame them, given what she knows of Chelaxian law, and the current rumours about Milani’s cult in Kintargo. She imagines that they would be still warier of showing any knowledge of her own faith, visibly suppressed for an even longer time. Well, no one said it would be easy – though she admits it wouldn’t hurt to give her voice a bit more practice too.
Her musings are interrupted by the arrival of the man of the hour. She bridles at his condescension, even as she grudgingly concedes his self-assurance suits his position, but his last words bring home the starkest realities of Adonara’s mission. Cheliax at its finest, she scoffs inwardly.
Refusing to be so easily cowed, and inspired by the more vociferous of the singers, Adonara adds a few choice words of her own. She does think his friend’s intervention is probably wise, though, and tries to keep an eye on the pair’s path: it would be a shame to lose track of them before being properly introduced. First, though, hands on her hips, she tips her head up to the balcony and inquires, with breathtaking impertinence, “Just to be clear, when you say squassation, do you mean shaking, or pressing?”
She makes a private bet with herself as to whether Thrune will say ‘both,’ but glibness aside, it might affect what chances people are willing to take. She waits a few seconds on the off chance she’s even been heard, but prepares to follow the singers, especially if all hell breaks loose.
Thrune does not respond to Adonara's comments. The tenor of the crowd grows increasingly more hostile. At this point someone in the crowd picks up a piece of manure at throws it at Thrune. It misses but Thrune spills his wine.
Enough of this!
[i]He calls down to a woman standing at the doorway of the Opera House
Nox, run them off, arrest them or kill them. I don't care which!
At this point several men and women throw off their cloaks, revealing matching armbands and truncheons, showing they are members of the Chelish Citizen's group eager to mete out some 'justice' to the rioters.
Hearing the callus disregard for the lives of the citizenry, and seeing the arm banded thugs revealed, Pellius pulls his arm from Lodoro's grasp and faces them.
"Calling out the brute squad, eh Thrune? True born Kintargan's fear not your petty thugs! We shall overcome!" Drawing his longsword, Pellius begins to sing an aria from an opera set in a besieged city, sung by the general of the army as he marched them out bravely to its defense.
Kira gasps as the Chelish Citizen's group reveal themselves. Of course Thrune would seed the crowd with his own supporters, I should have anticipated this, why didn't I anticipate this?
She starts shaking as the stress overwhelms her. One of the opera singers is yelling something, but she can't understand what. Nevertheless the tone fills her with courage.
Pull yourself together Kira!
Hands still shaking, she draws a crossbow she's only ever used in practice and loads it. Just in case.
Baolo's jaw tightens as he looks from Thrune down to the supporters who were itching for a fight. Though his body tensed up as the park burst into chaos, his teachings and the inspiring magic infused in the song he heard, took over. Indeed, the only difference between this and any brawl at the Tankard is that the men he was about to fight seemed to be out for blood. Seeing a few in his immediate vicinity, he thinks, Time to show these boot-lickers what the Drunken Hero teaches. Switching his clay mug from right to left, he seems to mix a few ingredients in and mumble off some sort of formula before tossing back the concoction. To those with no skill at identifying spells, nothing seems to happen, though Baolo confidently levels his gaze at the nearest of Thrune's thugs. Drawing his rapier, the man smiles as he calls out, "Come to seek Chelish justice, eh? Let's see how that stacks up to the justice of Kintargo!"
|
|
Adonara’s gaze sweeps across the square as Thrune’s goons reveal themselves. With one hand, she adjusts the fastening of her cloak so it falls more freely from her shoulders, revealing the gleam of her armour underneath even in the overcast morning; her other hand snatches up her coiled whip, her fist rising in defiance.
“Don’t even try it, you devil-kissing cowards,” she says coolly, projecting her arch voice over the crowd’s alarm. Remembering years of training, her body assumes a battle-ready stance almost instinctively, and feeling an additional lift as one of the singers launches into a rousing aria, Adonara grins. These fellows are good.
Rutilus sighs, "and there's the explosion. So much for finding my contact." He starts to turn to make his way out of the park using the panicked crowd to hide him when he catches Baolo out of the corner of his eye with a rapier drawn as well as the bard who was provoking Thrune. Rutilus the sighs as he heads back into the crowd, drawing his falcata from his hip and his shield from his back in one swift motion.
"I guess someone will have to save them if they won't save themselves," he mutters to himself. He then steadies his eyes at the thug in front of him. "Now Focus .. he's favoring his right side .. I might just have an opening"
Lodoro draws his glaive and steps forward 5 ft, preparing to defend himself or those near him from the thugs.
Ready action - whack an enemy (non lethally) who gets close.
Note - Glaive is a reach weapon so may get two attacks
In case they come up (I'll be out most of tomorrow)
for
for
Moving to the side of his attacker (forcing him to pick between having his back to him or to Lodoro) Pellius attempts to swing at the armed thug....
... but the effort of keeping in tune and projecting make keep him from doing much but cutting the air over the thug's head. Still, he does keep the song going without missing a beat, so not all is lost.
Kira cries out as the thug slams a mace into her side. Got to get away, no, have to help everyone get away...
She moves towards the southwestern exit of the park, trying to dodge another blow from the thug in the process.
Once she's close enough, she stops. Moving her hands in a strange gesture, she prays,
In response, a dark mist seems to coalesce around her. Spreading rapidly to cover the park's exit, it provides cover for anyone attempting to flee in that direction. As it spreads she yells,
The melee was turning more chaotic than Baolo had expected as the thug's weapon rebounds from the magical protection surrounding him and the gnome yells something in some language that the brewer didn't understand before a hazy mist settles around her. Indeed, the man who had just attacked him was now difficult to track in the haze. So the Baolo takes a step back and spins around to target the Chelish Citizen's Group member attacking Lodoro as he calls out, "You see a group of people expressing their frustration and you think it civil to attack them! Let me show you your error!"
We gotta keep their focus on us. More time for the rest of the crowd to get away, Baolo thinks as he jabs out with his blade, attempting to injure the man.
[ooc]5 ft. step back to be diagonal with the man attacking Lodoro, then standard action to attack that man.
Rutilus continues to head to assist Baolo and the bards when he hears a language he has not heard in awhile. He glances to his right and seems a dark mist surround a small gnome. "Smart play, hopefully the civilians get out. Maybe we can use that same cover for our own exit."
Skirting the edge of the mist, Rutilus ends up face to face with one of the thugs. He quickly swings his blade in a low arc at the man's left side.
"Well, this is escalating quickly"
Lodoro starts to move in what is almost a dance. No, it IS a dance. He moves to the left drawing the thug menacing his friend Pelius to the left and then quickly darts to the right. As his opponent frantically tries to parry, he slips in the glaive. Since his opponents have chosen to fight lethally he also decides to use the edge of his glaive this time.
(as part of full round attack)
vs (hopefully) no dex AC
|
|
Seeing, out of the corner of her eye, one of the infernal loyalists take a dagger in the throat and walk away throws off Adonara’s swing at her own incoming thug, but she manages to dance back easily as he closes.
Someone’s got powerful friends, she thinks, to be spreading that sort of magic around.
That’s something to worry about later, though, and for now the thugs have to be dealt with. Adonara’s confident she can hold this one for a few seconds longer, so as she arcs her weapon around for another pass, she tries to buy time for non-combatants to get clear.
“I think you should leave now,” she warns the thugs, almost playfully, but with a clear threat in the undertone. “I won’t ask again.”
Her whip moves almost as lightly as her voice, and with even more sinister menace. As Adonara swings it around, it floats in a way that no ordinary whip has any business doing, eddying around innocents but cracking towards the faces of Thrune’s minions.