Aronida sits still and tries to at least appear like she's watching the skit. Once the children have finished, she politely joins in the applause. They're children. No matter how ridiculous this whole display might be, it does no harm to encourage them.
Well, except from the strain on her eyes caused by five minutes of forcing herself not to roll them.
"Nearly done," she tells Revka and Gellius. "We should get to the actual Call soon."
Revka is of a similar mind as the gnomish woman on stage, and she gives a hearty applause at the end of the performance. She adds her thoughts in a similar whisper to Aronida's. "That was very sweet. I was worried they were going to have a fight, though! Goblin children love to brawl, especially when doing play-pretend. Everyone wants to be the chief then..." Her voice betrays that she doesn't quite agree with such behavior.
Darla claps at the end of the skit, remembering when she'd partaken in the theatrics as a girl of a similar age as the current players. She frowns a bit when most of her fellow citizens seem unenthusiastic...or perhaps forgetful of Lamond Breachton's long-ago act of kindness.
"Now," Greta goes on, getting to her feet once more, "on to the business at hand. We have two petitions on the docket today. The petitioners will present their cases, and the council will decide whether or not to expend public funds to hire heroes on their behalf. If the petition is approved, the floor will be open for prospective heroes to present their qualifications. First, we will hear from Calmont Trenault, local laborer." She nods to the halfling as she sits down again.
Calmont gets to his feet with a rustle of his sheaf of papers and struts somewhat stiffly to the front of the room where he clears his throat lengthily. "Citizens of Breachill!" he begins in a somewhat quavery voice. "For too long, you have closed your eyes to a situation you do not wish to acknowledge! I cannot imagine that you are simply unaware of the caliber of disaster indicated by the presence of a large tribe of bloodthirsty goblins in the ruin northeast of town! For too long you have allowed these horrific and warlike creatures to gather, plotting the doom of this town and every other in our fair nation! I urge you, members of the council, to take action today to put an end to this menace! Every day you do not act is another chance for your children to be burned in their beds or hacked to pieces by the monsters you--"
From the beginning of this speech, an uncomfortable silence had fallen over the room. By the time he reached his fourth exclamation point, Greta Gardania was back on her feet, trying to break in. "Mr. Trenault... Mr. Trenault... Mr. Trenault, I insist!" When he finally breaks off and looks over at her sullenly, she forces a smile and a placating tone of voice. "Mr. Trenault, I am sorry, but this is a petition the council cannot indulge. The Bumblebrashers have done nothing to justify your fears. The Goblinblood War is over, and...."
"It's not over!" the halfling shouts abruptly, throwing his papers down on the floor. "It will never be over, not as long as one of them is left alive! You fools! You blind fools!" He is visibly shaking. "What will it take for you to see the danger you're in?"
Aronida freezes as Calmont begins his rant. Oh no...I was worried he was upset about Revka, but it's even worse than I thought. Did he lose family in the Wars? Torn, she looks at the goblin by her side. "I'm sorry...I'm going to see if I can calm him down. I'll be back as soon as I can."
She quickly gets up and approaches the upset halfling, hands clearly visible. "Calmont? Calmont, I'm Aronida. The Council's said no to your petition, so why don't we head out of here, okay?"
Revka's face turns a motley purple during Calmont's tirade-like speech. She squirms in her seat, unsure of how to act. At several points she has the urge to stand up and speak, but she's not really sure what to say. Well, at least he hasn't got any problems with his words any more, is a thought that pops in her head.
She shakes her head at Aronida's apology. "Well, goblins can be really violent," she offers. I... I don't really blame him, I guess? The 'plotting doom' part seems a little far-fetched. Really, goblins aren't so keen on plotting anything," - she snickers at the thought - "But they could be trouble for the town, couldn't they? Maybe someone should go over there and talk to them?"
She quickly gets up and approaches the upset halfling, hands clearly visible. "Calmont? Calmont, I'm Aronida. The Council's said no to your petition, so why don't we head out of here, okay?"
"You... no!" he pulls back violently. "I saw you with...," his eyes wander to Revka. "You'll see I was right!" he raises his voice to address his threat to the whole room. "You'll be sorry!" He dashes up the aisle and out of the rotunda. No one moves to stop him.
Greta speaks into the awkward silence. "On behalf of the citizens of Breachill, I want to apologize to our goblin guest. Are you one of our neighbors of the Bumblebrasher tribe?" she asks Revka.
Revka stands up and respectfully addresses GReta. "No, Chief. I am - was - from the Flint Tossers. They live further into the Chitterwood. I've only been in town for a few days, and I don't know anything about the Bumblebrashers." She's about to leave it at that because that was all she was asked, but she has a need to say something more.
"It's... I don't really blame the good sir who just ran out. It's not like we are monsters, and goblins surely wouldn't plot doom against anyone." The thought of her stupid siblings plotting anything again causes Revka to snicker. "But goblins can be reckless and a danger to themselves, or others. So..." She doesn't really know what more she should say, so she leaves her sentence hanging like that, still standing and unsure what to do.
"I suppose I can't ask you to carry our best wishes back to the Bumblebrashers, then," Greta smiles. "But I want to assure you that any stranger who respects the law and the rights of other creatures is welcome in Breachill." There is a low murmur of approval from the crowd, many of whom try to catch Revka's eye with a friendly smile, as if to make up for Calmont's angry words.
"Now," Greta goes on, "let's get back to business. Our second petition is from Ezekiel Everhilm, local farmer." She nods to the man with the straw hat as she sits down again.
Everhilm gets to his feet, removing his hat and turning it around and around in his hands like a cart wheel as he addresses the room. "You all know me," he begins in a slow, comfortable voice. "I farm northwest of town. In the last few weeks, I've had several chickens go missing, and a I found a broke lock on one of my outbuildings and some equipment stolen. I reckon there's squatters in Guardian's Way again, and I'm here to petition the council to hire some heroes to clear 'em out." He nods politely and returns to his seat.
Darla flashes Revka a friendly smile after the goblin makes her speech. So she's not one of the Bumblebrashers. Interesting....
Squatters in the old outpost isn't exactly the kind of mission she'd pictured herself volunteering for, but the barmaid decides to consider it anyways.
"Thank you, Mr. Everhilm," Greta Gardania responds. "The council will now confer."
Before she even finishes glancing around the table, the dwarf Jorsk Hinterclaw advises, "We can't let anyone get comfortable in Guardian's Way. Vote to approve."
Posandi concurs. "Absolutely."
Melma Ann Sendari nods. "Banditry in the area threatens both our farmers and any travelers in the region. We must ensure their safety."
Greta smiles. "It looks like your petition is approved, Mr. Everhilm, and in record time. The council will now open the floor to any adventurers who wish to present their credentials to perform the job. The task in question," she specifies, writing on a sheet of parchment as she does so, "is Physical Repulsion of Banditry, and the standard pay for such a task when completed is twenty gold coins, to be divided among the party, as well as official recognition of the members thereof as Heroes of Breachill, assuming they do not already possess that qualification."
She looks across the room expectantly.
“You spoke very well, Revka. I’d much rather be sitting here with you than with him, murmurs Gellius with a friendly smile, nodding his head back through the door towards the departed halfling. Standing up then to address the council, he makes a slight, formal bow before replying to the mayor.
“President Gardania, councilmembers,” he begins, casually resting one hand on the hilt of his fine rapier. “I am Gellius Tauranor from Correntyn, newly arrived in Breachill in answer to the Call for Heroes. By way of qualifications, I have received extensive tutelage in swordcraft from a young age and have recently taken leave from the family business to broaden my horizons. In the short time I have been here, I have been impressed with your town’s hospitality and sense of community. No doubt instilled from its early days thanks to your illustrious founder.” Gellius sweeps his hand upwards to indicate the mural above.
“If you would have me, I would be honoured to serve the town and join with other like minded folk in bringing justice for Master Everhilm and peace of mind to the rest of the community. Banditry is a scourge on business and puts the safety of all good citizens of Breachill at risk. Please accept my humble offer to answer the call.”
Aronida looks after the departing Calmont with a frown. What he said is repulsive, but if he did suffer in the Goblinblood Wars I almost can’t blame him. I’d feel the same way if the citadel were still full of Hellknights! Well, I’d be more likely to run rather than to call for their extermination, but I can still sort of understand. She once again takes her seat, smiling encouragingly at Revka.
With Everhilm’s request things seem to be back to normal. Missing chickens and tools? I wonder if it’s really bandits, or...something else. While she had always avoided stealing, she knew some fleeing slaves would grab everything and anything that might help them survive.
All the more reason for her to check it out.
Once Gellius is finished she also stands. ”Greetings Council. As you may be aware I’m Aronida, a local hunter. For my qualifications, anyone who enjoyed the stew earlier can attest to my skill with a bow, seeing as I was the one to provide the boar. I’m familiar with the region, and good at tracking things down. Wherever these people might be hiding, I can find them.”
She gestures to Gethric and Revka. ”While these two can speak to their own qualifications, we have already discussed forming a party and working together. As such, you may consider us to be applying as a group.”
The colour in Revka's cheeks had faded slightly, but quickly picks up at all the friendly attention she receives. She waves in a couple of directions and then quickly takes her seat again. She's glad of the encouraging words of Gellius and the presence of the two halflings next to her.
The goblin is again keenly focused on the stage when the next petitioner speaks. Missing chickens? Stolen equipment? She feels a bit deflated, until the woman on stage names the cause to be bandits. Maybe they're planning a raid on the town. With fire! This seems to be the time to volunteer, but she stays put for now.
At the end of Gellius' speech, Revka starts clapping with fervour. It lasts for four beats, until she finds out that she's the only one to do so. She quickly stops and wiggles a bit to sit on her hands. "Sorry..."
Revka waits for either of the halflings to present their group, and takes her cue from Aronida. She stands and speaks to the people on stage. "Euh, hello. It's me again. Like Aronida says, I would like to volunteer as well. I've only been in town for a few days - I've been staying at the Great Dreamhouse. And I would like to help!" She takes a short pause. "So, my qualifications... I think I can do repulsion, even though I'm not really a physical-strength-kind-of-goblin. But I can do magic, with Desna's blessing," she holds up the symbol hanging from her neck to support the claim, "and I've been traveling the country for quite a while, so I know my way. Most of the time..." She's about to sit down when she thinks of one more thing to say. "Oh, and I think I could be really good in scaring bandits off. RAAH!" She holds out of her arms and opens up her mouth wide to show her razorsharp teeth, making a mock-attempt at seeming scary (which might succeed a little too well).
Darla's taken aback by Aronida's claim that she shot the boar her mother used in her famous stew; Mother never told me that!
Screwing up her courage, Darla raises a hand and volunteers for the mission. "My family's no stranger to the Call--most of you knew my two older brothers, who took up the challenge and eventually became renowned heroes and explorers. And my father...." The young woman swallows a lump in her throat. "My father answered a similar Call several years back, and a seemingly innocuous threat turned out to be a dangerous wyvern that...well...my father gave his life that day but exposed the true threat so that others could hunt it down and kill it...."
Th young lady wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and adds, "I feel it's my turn to help my hometown now...if you'll have me."
Gethric stands after Darla has finished and adds his own words "Well just like these fine folk I'm for putting up my hand and pitching in for the town. We'll see whats for in the Way and render Master Everhilm's chickens safe an fine..." allowing a wee smirk to emerge "least until it's their time to make it into one of Da's pies that is" hoping that the comment draws a chuckle before he sits back in his chair.
A ripple of interest palpably spreads over the crowd at Gellius's well-spoken introduction, and the town's sympathies have already been stirred toward the publicly-maligned goblin. The addition of Aronida and two locals -- particularly another Uskwold -- only adds to the enthusiasm in the room at the party's application.
At that moment, however, Neven Deckard gets to his feet and clears his throat. "Excuse me, councilors, Neven Deckard here. My friends and I earned our hero token last month, dealing with that pack of ravenous wolves. I'm sure we can handle some chicken-thieves. We have experience in aiding our local farmers, and we have these." He produces the bronze medallion he was showing off in the tavern.
Sotto voce to Aronida and Revka "Bugger... they've got precedence if they push it..." Gethric sets his mind a mumbling along a path that might put their claim above that of Deckards.
Returning to his feet Gethric clears his voice and with deference confirms "Aye, Master Deckard's been proved a hero well and fair... dealt with the ferocious beasts that he was called for and none can deny it." pausing a few moments to demonstrate that he's not denying the claim or tradition.
Pursing lips and furrowing brow Gethric hesitates to continue "But would that be best use of their aptitude and skill? Even chance that its not beast or unthinking horror in the ruins. Could be that its some desperate men, bereft or hope or path. A softer touch, with words and application could turn such men towards the light... a harder stride would just end in blood." at this his courage starts to waver, and he looks t'wards those he's cast in with to add words to his own appeal.
Aronida stands as well. "Gethric is correct. While Mr. Deckard and his friends have proven themselves to be brave fighters, this situation may not call for such skills. Bandits rarely satisfy themselves with a few tools and chickens. It seems more likely to me that these squatters are hungry people just trying to survive." She hesitates, her eyes flicking to the side as she seems to look at something that isn't there. "I have...some experience with such people, which I can go into more detail about if the Council wishes."
Refocusing, she continues. "If fighting is called for, then while I have no doubt that either group could handle it, Mr. Deckard's prior experience is applicable and his claim has precedent. If however it is not, if what is needed is the ability to find frightened people, calm them down, and coax them back into society...then I would argue that myself and my companions have the more relevant experience." She smiles slightly. "If nothing else, we're less intimidating."
Revka shrinks a bit at Aronida's last words. And here I made a point of how intimidating I could be... She understands there's some finer points of politics involved, and doesn't want to harm their cause any more. She stays put for the moment.
Quentino Posandi frowns, throwing Gellius a quick sympathetic glance. "I don't suppose there's any room for discretion here?" he murmurs across the councilors' table.
Melma Ann Sendari purses her lips. "The rules are quite clear. Mr. Deckard does have certified prior experience in a task involving physical danger and combat; as such, he is to be accorded preference."
"But it's not fair!" Trini Sprizzlegig objects. "They're strangers! Not trusting them is ... it's un-Breachillian!"
"Mr. Deckard," Greta Gardania speaks gravely, "the council thanks you for your interest. In light of your previous service to the town, and in accordance with the regulations and traditions of Breachill, you and your group are engaged to clear any intruders from Guardian's Way and its environs." She lets her gavel fall.
There is a disappointed murmur in the crowd. As if just noticing the disapproving glances thrown his way, Neven Deckard approaches Revka. "Well, little ... friend, you're welcome to tag along with me and my party and get a little heroing under your belt," he offers loudly enough to be overheard.
Before Revka can reply, however, a door at the back of the rotunda claps open, and a small figure dressed all in white dashes up the aisle. "Parley! Sanctuary! Peace!" it squeaks.
Upon closer inspection, the figure is a goblin, swathed in white fabric that is noticeably muddy at the overlong hem where she has trodden it into the ground. She is waving a crude white flag tied to the end of a stick in each hand and even has strips of white cloth tied around her ears which stream behind her like a veil. "Help! I come in peace! The Bumblebrashers need help!"
Melma Ann Sendari purse her lips once more. "This is not on the agenda," she mutters, shuffling through the papers in front of her. None of the rest of the council seem inclined to share her concerns, however.
"Order! Quiet!" Greta commands the room, rapping her gavel to silence the wave of astonished comment spreading through the crowd. "If you need help," she tells the distressed goblin, "you have arrived at the right place in the right time. Tell us who you are and what you need."
Gethric can't help but have his heart and expression fall when their appeal is overridden by due process, but even as his thoughts turn to opportunities missed and a miasmic sea of flour and dough... opporchancity strikes. The plea of the newly arrived goblin stirs hope once more, and the halfling waits for the story to play out further...
"I is.. am Warbal, Miz Longshanks," the goblin replies politely, "and Helba sent me because I speak Longshanks so well. Monsters attacked our castle! Dragons came up from underground and drove us out into the air! We all are trapped on top of the castle, with only the sky above us! Helba tied a rope to me and dropped me down to run for help! The Bumblebrashers have heard this is a town of heroes. Please, send a hero to help us!"
Quentino Posandi clears his throat gently. "Dragons? You're ... you're quite sure?" he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Could be a tatzlwyrm," Jorsk Hinterclaw suggests with a shrug.
"Whatever it is," Trini Sprizzlegig insists, "they need help!"
"If we are spending municipal funds," Melma Ann Sendari puts in, "the matter needs to be to the direct benefit of the citizenry of Breachill."
"A tatzlwyrm in the area could affect travelers just like banditry would," Hinterclaw points out. "They're cunning predators. I wouldn't be comfortable with one settling into a lair so near town."
"Absolutely not," Greta agrees. "To say nothing of travelers, think of children playing outside of town! This is a clear danger and one we should thank the Bumblebrashers for bringing to our attention." There are some quiet exclamations of alarm from the parents in the room who look on the new arrival with more sympathetic eyes.
Sendari shrugs, and Posandi gives Greta a nod of approval. "Miss ... Warbal," Greta pronounces, dropping her gavel, "your petition is approved. The task in question is Physical Repulsion of a Dangerous Creature, and the standard pay for such a task when completed is twenty gold coins, to be divided among the party, as well as official recognition of the members thereof as Heroes of Breachill, assuming they do not already possess that qualification." She looks at Gellius, Darla, the two halflings, and Revka. "The council recognizes a party of adventurers who have already presented their credentials. Will you agree to take on this task?"
Gethric rises, puffs his chest out slightly and nods his head by way of acceptance.
Aronida isn't exactly surprised by the Council's decision, but she is disappointed. They never even acknowledged our argument that this might not be a physical confrontation. I suppose I can check it out myself regardless-
Her musings are interrupted by the sudden arrival of a goblin, breathless and begging for help. Dragons? That doesn't sound right...but clearly something is going on.
Mind made up, Aronida stands (again). "I will certainly assist the Bumblebrashers with defeating whatever it is that has attacked their home."
Briefly disappointed by the council’s decision, Gellius barely has time to formulate a counterargument when the proceedings are disrupted by the goblin emissary. Catching Quentino’s eye and sharing a smile at the panicked account of ‘dragons’, he also stands beside Gethric and Aronida, towering over the two halflings as he speaks to the council once more.
“Like my brave new friends here, I too will join in the fight against these beasts,” turning to address Warbal he smiles encouragingly. “Have no fear, Miss Warbal. We will clear a path to your tribe and let you to return to your home.”
His confidence is genuine, sure that the dragons will turn out to be nothing more than some cave lizard or similar. Nonetheless, Gellius can’t help but picture some of the famous scenes of battle he’s seen showing legions of soldiers battling the giant monsters.
Darla, having lost her father on a Call for Heroes that seemed mostly innocuous but ended up involving a deadly wyvern, isn't so quick to accept the mission as the others...at least not before some questions get answered.
Turning to Warbal, the bard asks, "What color are these dragons? Do they breathe fire or spit acid or the like? Do they possess other notable attacks...such as having a stinger at the end of their tails? Just how big are these dragons?"
Revka is pretty upset at being turned down for the job and is about to pull her ears at Neven for his taunt (a rather mild Goblin insult, to be honest), when the goblin in white storms in. She goes through a range of emotions quite quickly: first surprise to see another goblin, then apprehension at what a goblin could want here and whether they would further strengthen the negative goblin stereotype, finally curiosity at the Bumblebrasher's reason for coming to Breachill like this.
She listens closely to Warbal's story and is instantly sympathetic to her plight. She lets loose a vigorous applause when the council decides to approve her petition. "Yes, Yes. I will help the Bumblebashers with my new friends!"
Turning to Warbal, the bard asks, "What color are these dragons?"
"Blue."
"Do they breathe fire or spit acid or the like?"
"They breathe smelly!" She waves her hand in front of her nose. "Worse than the poo-pit! Makes us sick!"
"Do they possess other notable attacks...such as having a stinger at the end of their tails?"
"They can swing their tail and knock over a whole row of goblins!"
"Just how big are these dragons?"
"Bi-i-ig. Bigger than you!" She thinks a moment. "About as big as Big Bumble. But lying down." She bends forward at the waist, stretching her arms in front of her.
Aronida listens carefully to Warble's explanation. Large blue 'dragons' with smelly breath and long tails. Doesn't sound like a tatzlwyrm...what could they be?
Although, in order to get a good idea of exactly how large they are, there is one important question. "What's a Big Bumble?"
Revka similarly tries to form an image based on Warbal's description.
"Is Big Bumble the goblin chief?" she guess after Aronida's question. Wait, that can't be right. Bigger than the longshanks woman from the inn?
Although, in order to get a good idea of exactly how large they are, there is one important question. "What's a Big Bumble?"
"Is Big Bumble the goblin chief?" she guess after Aronida's question. Wait, that can't be right. Bigger than the longshanks woman from the inn?
Warbal shakes her head energetically. "Helba is the chief. Big Bumble is our ...," she hesitates, as if searching for the word in Common, "our ... witchcraft?" She shakes her head again. "Our మాట," she tells Revka.
"Shaggy fur, stubby tail, teeth and claws," she mimes with her own pointed teeth and skinny fingers. "Big Bumble is a భరించలేదని."
"ఓహ్, ఇది మంచి చిహ్నం! మాది ఒక పందికొక్కు. బదులుగా మాంగీ ఒకటి," Revka replies with admiration and quite a bit of envy.
She then translates for the benefit of the others. "It's a bear. The tribe... totem, or mascot." She tries to find a better word. "It's hard to find a longshanks-word, I agree..."
She's been so caught up in seeing another goblin and in translating, that she forgot to consider the implications. They hit her suddenly. "I think it might indeed be a dragon!"
"పందికొక్కులు పదునైనవి! ఎలుగుబంటికి కూడా ముక్కు నిండిన క్విల్స్ అక్కరలేదు," Warbal laughs before worry returns to her face. "We haven't seen Big Bumble since the dragons chased us outside. Please," she addresses Darla directly, "help the Bumblebrashers?"
Revka laughs at the image the Warbal paints with her words, but she shifts back to seriousness just as quickly. She turns to her new companions. "We're going to help them, right?"
Gethric looks to the council to see if they will endorse their nascent party's assent to the quest...
“I agree with the councilman,” Gellius muses with a polite nod towards Jorsk Hinterclaw as Darla seeks more information from Revka. “It could be a tatzlwyrm, perhaps. I’ve never seen one in the flesh, but have read some stories. They have poisonous breath and they can alter their colour to camouflage themselves. Could be blue, could be nearly anything.”
“We serve at the council’s pleasure,” he answers Warbal and Revka. “The town of Breachill has granted your request for aid and we have answered their call. We will help.”
After consulting briefly with Revka to learn what exactly Big Bumble is, Darla weighs the need of this latest Call against her mother's disapproval and decides now's the time for her to make a greater mark in her community. "I'm in," she announces.
Greta smiles. "The council thanks you for your willingness to serve. Your group is engaged to aid the Bumblebrasher goblins to reclaim their home." As she lets the gavel fall, a restrained cheer begins to arise from the spectators.
The next moment, however, a panicked-looking man with a push-broom runs into the rotunda from the eastern door. "Fire! Fire!" he cries, pointing to the west. Through the door on the other side of the high stage, smoke and flickers of flame can be seen from the corridor.
His burgeoning smile is forestalled by the cries of fire and flickers of visible flame. Shocked to action he quickly scans the room noting that there isn't any water in the complex. Calling out to Gellius he implores "The kids... I'm not tall enough" gesturing t'wards the elevated bairns out of his reach. Bustling a "Pardon" he squeezes past Revka en-route to casting suspicious eyes into the Western corridor... hopeful for a glimpse of potential cause of conflagration.
Darla sees the children in danger and immediately moves toward the stage to attempt a rescue. As she goes, the young bard tries to recall if she's ever witnessed how folks get up to the raised stage from past Calls for Heroes.
"To me, little ones!" she calls to the children onstage. "Hang over the edge and drop down!"
Aronida gapes in shock as fire starts spilling out from the western door. Fire?! I have to do something what can I do?!
Stay calm. That's what I can do.
Much like Gethric, there's no way she can really help the children. Or anyone else for that matter. She's relatively strong for a halfling, but that doesn't mean she could easily carry or drag anyone outside. It's more likely she'd be trampled under their feet.
"Help Darla with the children," she commands Gellius, even as she scrambles backwards over the seats. With everyone still staring in shock at the fire, she's able to move all the way to the doors without too much trouble.
Opening the western doors, she shouts, "Stay calm! Form a line and evacuate the building!" Once all the way outside herself, she continues to hold the doors open while looking around frantically for the gardeners she'd seen earlier. "Fire! Get that water and some buckets; we have to put it out!"
Gethric is the quickest to react, running toward the flames.
Darla strides toward the stage and calls out to the stranded children.
Aronida runs for the doors to the outside, hoping to start an orderly evacuation, and shouts to anyone who can hear her to bring water to fight the fire.
Do I think I could try climbing up into the rotunda from this side or from "backstage"?
Gellius vaults over the council table and rushes to the base of the rotunda before leaping up to try and grab the lip of the stage and pull himself onto it.
Gellius dashes toward the stage and leaps to grab its lip. Unfortunately, his fingers slip, and he falls onto the back of one of the council members' chairs, which tips beneath him before leaving him sprawled on the floor.