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It's only been a tenday since the previous lord-mayor, Jilia Bainilus, abandoned Kintargo and fled on a ship to Arcadia. Since then, Barzillai Thrune was appointed the interim lord-mayor. He acted quickly to secure his hold over the typically more freedom-oriented city, enacting his sevan proclamations shortly after his appointment.
Then, seven days ago, in an event now known as the Night of Ashes his agents struck at suspected rebellious centers. Several dissident groups (including the church of Milani) found themselves waking to a day without leadership, and are still reeling from the losses incurred that one single night.
At 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, Paracount Barzillai Thrune. The city’s new leader was appointed by Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II, in the wake of the previous lord-mayor’s sudden flight from the city—an event that still has local rumormongers whispering furiously. In a scant seven days, Paracount Thrune has instituted martial law, a curfew, and seven outlandish and polarizing proclamations. These actions and more have called many of Kintargo’s dissatisfied citizens here on this overcast morn. There’s been no sign yet of Barzillai Thrune himself, and the opera house’s doors remain tightly closed—as they have since the man chose the landmark as his new home—but judging by the growing sound of the protesters, he surely can’t ignore the scene on the streets below much longer.
Pilfer: Sleight of hand check to make the most of the crowds distractions.
Rabble Rouse: Diplomacy or Perform to better organize the protest.
Search for Contact: Perception check to try and spot your contact amongst the crowd.
Silence Undesirable Elements: Bluff or Intimidate check to try and silence or outshout members of the crowd you disagree with.
Watch the Crowd: Perception or Sense Motive check to observe the situation and the crowd.
The tiefling woman sat at her vanity, various pots of paint and pigment arranged before her in a neat semi-circle. She dipped a wet sponge onto a cake of tan colored makeup and daubed it over her blue-grey skin tone. "It's ridiculous!" She exclaimed again through the age-splotched mirror to the reflection of her friend who waited patiently in the room behind her. "Are they to provide these images of the Queen we're meant to display? And perhaps later inspect them for dart holes?" She shook her head and huffed a sigh as she swapped the sponge for a small paint brush and moved on to painting over her blue lips over with a rose color.
"And mint? Seriously, do you know how many herbal remedies require mint as an ingredient? I suppose Barzillai Thrune never has a sour stomach! He certainly causes no shortage of them in others. You would scarcely believe the uptick in demand for such things since he arrived." She grumbled as she began putting her supplies back in the kit.
Finally she tied a kerchief, though not her favorite embroidered one, over her lilac-hued feathery locks and turned to look at Maccha properly. "Sorry, I know I'm not the only one suffering. I'm just worried for Father. The timing of his disappearance is more than suspect, it's downright suggestive. I'm ready now, though. We don't want to be late. Do I look alright?"
Maccha never really knew what to do inside someone else's home. Luckily, Believer was a friend and didn't mind the staring at the ceiling she was prone to do, to avoid eye contact. The direct question made her look, however, at the tiefling's well maintained appearance.
She looked great, but that would be too forward to say. "One would think you worked at the opera house yourself." she deflected while smiling weakly.
Maccha herself wore a drab dark blue coat over her gray and brown shirt and pants. The gray boots' wear and tear also betrayed their use, but were confortable, the most suited to what she assumed to be a long day standing up among a crowd. Inside her coat were her twin daggers, just in case.
"Word on the street is that no dog in Old Kintargo is safe. People have been kidnapping the ones owned by families, fattening them to give to the Dottari." she scratches her dry, cracked lips "Probably a quick way to ensure you are attacked by hell hounds." Maccha shudders at the mere mention of the fiendish beasts. "Or to just make enough money to buy a portrait of the Queen."
"I don't doubt a black market for mint will spring up anytime soon, so I can try to arrange some for you if necessary." she holds her left arm and shoulder, burned so long ago, with her right hand for a while before going to the door and opening it. "Shall we? I think a crowd is forming already."
She looked great, but that would be too forward to say. "One would think you worked at the opera house yourself." she deflected while smiling weakly.
B smiled knowingly at the evasive compliment. "Well, as long as it's a humanoid opera house worker that I resemble, then I suppose it's good enough." She replied while donning her armored coat.
"I don't doubt a black market for mint will spring up anytime soon, so I can try to arrange some for you if necessary." she holds her left arm and shoulder, burned so long ago, with her right hand for a while before going to the door and opening it. "Shall we? I think a crowd is forming already."
"Black market mint... What are we coming to?" She mused gloomily, taking up her 'walking stick' and stepping out the door. She secured it as best she could and then slipped her left hand into the crook of the younger woman's right arm. She often considered using her paints to attempt the appearance of an older woman. It might give more credence to her use of a 'walking stick' and she would be more likely to go unremarked. But some seed of vanity caused her to dismiss the idea. It didn't do to go completely unremarked... she thought to herself as she reached up briefly to tug and straighten the chain that connected her nose ring to her ear.
Llewela stands in front of a small mirror in her modest room, fingers deftly weaving her hair into a tight braid. Completing the work, she ties off the end with a strip of leather and tucks a few stray hairs behind her ears.
As she starts to don her breastplate, her gaze drifts to the note on her small dressing table. The hastily scribbled message, slipped under her door late in the night offers a sliver of hope in the shadows of recent events.
"I heard what happened to Garren and I know something of the Silver Ravens. Meet me tomorrow at the protest at the park. Look for a human male, wearing one black glove on his right hand."
Since the Night of Ashes, Llewela has been a tempest of emotions - worry for Garren, who never showed at their scheduled meeting; fear for her own safety; and a growing fury at the imposition of martial laws and Thrune's proclamations. The note offers the hope of potential allies and answers, though she remains wary of a possible trap.
"Well, if it is a trap, at least I won't be unprepared." she thinks, as she tightens the final strap. "And amongst a crowd of protestors would be a strange place to try something, I suppose." She checks the tools on her belt, ensuring each item is in its proper place. An adze, a small chisel, a hammer - all practical tools that can double as weapons if the need arises.
Satisfied with her preparations, she grabs the note and tucks it safely into a pocket. Before leaving, she pulls out her holy symbol - a wooden rose intricately carved and blessed by Garren. Holding it tightly, she whispers a brief prayer to Milani.
Tucking the symbol safely back out of sight, she takes a deep breath and heads outside. The air carries the fresh scent of the morning's rain, and the distant sounds of the growing crowd. Llewela strides forward, ready for what the day may bring.
"Llewela, wait!"
The sound of someone running comes from behind Llewela as the half-elf cooper is making her way to the protest. Tessa comes running, her face flushed with embarrassment as she catches up with the person whom she'd grown to know the best since leaving the Sarini estate two years ago. Behind her hustles Aoede, an almost perfect match for Tessa in looks. The one difference was the eyes, showing more age and wisdom than someone her apparent age should possess. While Tessa is dressed in her usual loose blouse and long, blue skirt, Aoede looks ready for trouble with a staff in her hands and dagger at her hip.
The pair catch up, with Tessa panting as she slows to match Llewela's pace.
"S-sorry. I lost track of time," Tessa apologizes. "I'm not making you late, am I?"
Believer looks with awe at the assembled crowd and a thrill runs down her spine. "All these people might really do something. Oh Maccha, we could finally be heard." She said fervently, believing the words with every fiber of her being.
She turned to a young man in the gathering, leaning close to be heard over the hubbub and favoring him with a sweet smile for enduring her questions. "Has anything happened yet? What are the people saying? Have you heard anything about the disappearances?"
Maccha walks with a disguised Believer trying to stealthily play a game of her childhood, trying to not step in any lines between the cobblestones of the streets, specially of Argent Avenue.
"All these people might really do something. Oh Maccha, we could finally be heard."
She darted her eyes back and forth among the closest to them both in the crowd and couldn't help some cynicism "Or we could all be stabbed."
Maccha did not actually know how Barzillai would answer to the protests but, in her experience, she assumed overwhelming force. It would not be out of character for House Thrune anyway.
Kintargo has been choked by House Thrune, but... there should be some Cheliax sycophants around, for sure.. While still holding Believer, she scanned the area for anyone running counter to the protest itself.
Llewela turns her head at the familiar voice caling her name and slows down a little to let Tessa and Aoede catch up, but continues her brisk pace once they are alongside.
She smiles at the two, glad to have some trusted friends with her in these uncertain times.
"No, you're not late, but we should hurry." she answers. She lowers her voice as she continues. "I don't want to miss whoever sent the note. The city needs the Silver Ravens more than ever right now. This week has been chaos. How have you been holding up?"
As they near the park, the sounds of the crowds get louder with the buzz of conversations punctuated by the occasional angry shout. "The entire city is furious about Thrune's proclamations. I can't see how he thinks people will just accept them."
She looks for a central position where she can easily observe everyone arriving. "Remember, a human with one black glove." she murmurs as she scans the crowd.
===
""
"I'm o-okay," Tessa says as she hurries to keep up with Llewela's longer-legged stride.
"What she means," Aoede says, "is that this whole business has her worrying herself into a swivet. She's barely been sleeping at all. In fact, we were late meeting you because she overslept after worrying half the night."
"Aoede," The young woman half-whines, "you weren't supposed to tell anyone!"
"Human with a black glove," Tessa repeats back to Llewela, a habit she'd gotten into after a few too many times grabbing the wrong thing from the market. As she looks around for the person Llewela is here to meet, she keeps repeating the description under her breath.
Aoede, meanwhile, keeps an eye out for any trouble that might be looking for Llewela and Tessa. She feels Tessa's anxiety ratcheting up as they look and wander through the crowd, and can guess its cause. It has been over two years since Tessa was this close to her old home, and neither of them wanted to meet Tessa's family after what happened.
Believer asks around in the crowd for any rumors or news, and the young man she approaches does mention something interesting.
"Take care traveling alone at night in Redroof or Temple Hill. The gangs there are getting restless, and they say the Red Jills’ boss has gone some sort of crazy.”
Maccha notices that the crowd's mood is agitated and discontented, but not overly violent. For now. But who knows how long that will last? There are a sizeable number of Chelish loyalists among the crowd, which is somewhat surprising but not overly so.
Tessa and Llewela search together for the man with the man with the black glove but he either hasn't shown up yet or they can't find him, because the pair sees not a single sign of him.
The first hour of the protest passes surprisingly quickly, with the pressure between the two 'sides' of the protest (loyalists and dissidents) slowly heating up. No physical contact is made, but several shouting matches erupt over the course of the first hour.
Maccha faced many fears by coming to the protest. She was fed up, yes, but the gnawing sense that someone might recognize her, as irrational as that might seem, loomed over her.
The crowd, however, granted a shroud of anonimity that let her let loose, so to speak. To see Cheliax loyalists was very disheartening and infuriating at the same time, how could they possibly be in favor of House Thrune?
Well, Mom and Dad were in favour as well, right?
Maccha let the thoughts of her family aside and decided to go to work. She just looked to Believer and nodded, letting go of the disguised tiefling, and entered a crowd of people, mostly loyalists. She would raise her voice and match their discourse, but slightly twisting it to grow confusion and hopefully silence them, while not calling attention to herself.
"Barzillai provides for us! Provides a reason to never wear fine clothing, that is!"
Believer met Maccha's eye and gave her arm a supportive squeeze before releasing her friend into the throng. This was all harder on Maccha than she let on, but Believer could see the stir of old pain in the younger woman's eyes, despite her tough exterior.
She waded deeper into the press of the crowd herself, exchanging quiet words with those she passed near. She exchanged pleasantries and continued with her guarded inquiries, thanking those who shared even a scrap of information, hoping... no, believing that she would catch some hint that would lead to her missing father. Gnomes were not a common sight in Kintargo, after all.
As the tension rises, Tessa grows more nervous and sticks even more tightly to Llewela's side as Aoede stays near. As they roam through the crowds, Tessa starts to reach up and grab hold of Llewela's arm several times, only to realize what she's doing and pull her hands back.
After a fruitless search, Llewela sighs. "I don't see him anywhere," she says quietly, frustration creeping into her voice. "Maybe he hasn't shown up yet. Well, when he shows up, then he can probably find me, if he can see me."
Llewela clambers up onto the edge of the fountain and looks over the crowds. The murmurs and shouts of the crowds are comforting in a way, and she can feel the weight of her holy symbol hidden away as she takes everything in.
Maccha's words draw confusion from the crowd of loyalists she had joined, and the group fumbles around its message before finally being disrupted altogether. Several people in the group actually break away from the others, and it eventually disbands entirely.
Believer pushes through the ever growing crowd over the next hour or so and actually manages to hear something useful for once, beyond the usual bickering and protesting going on.
“I hear the dottari guard towers are so full of prisoners now they’re keeping those they arrest in warehouses. My cousin even said they’re putting prisoners to work in places like Sallix Salt Works.”
Tessa and Llewela unfortunately still don't see their contact, but Tessa's watchful eyes catch a thief sneaking around through the crowd. She is able to point him out to the woman he was trying to steal from, and he is quickly apprehended and dragged off by the dottari standing on guard nearby the protest.
The rain of the early morning has returned somewhat during the second hour of the protest, with no single sight of Thrune.
While she felt good about helping to stop a cutpurse, the incident nor the rain do much to help her nerves. She continues to help Llewela look for her contact as she tries to keep the rain off with the light cloak that Aoede had insisted she bring just in case. As she'd learned not long after moving into her small apartment, rain and white blouses don't mix if you wanted to keep your modesty. Meanwhile, Aoede continues to watch over the two young women, the incident with the thief having caused a little bit of anxiety in the eidolon as well.
Prisoners! Believer feels foolish upon hearing her latest rumor. She hadn't even considered that Father Blom might have been taken prisoner. She files the information for further consideration later and notices a group up ahead of bakers, confectioners, herbalists and makers of fine soaps. They seemed to be here to protest the proclamation that had struck so close to home for her as well. She moves to take her place among them and encourages them to join in the time-honored tradition of protesters everywhere. The rhyming chant!
"Take a hint, we need mint! Take the hint, mint is important!
Take a hint, we need mint! Take the hint, mint is important!
Well, it wasn't poetry by any stretch of the imagination, but by Milani, it was catchy and it got their point across!
Maccha loses herself in the crowd after breaking away the group of loyalists. She moves closer to the center of Aria Park, trying to find more loyalist groups or groups that follow different politics than the main thrust of this protest, whatever it is.
From nearby she hears a rising chant about the importance of mint and joins on the singing while in the middle of another group, hoping to drown out their own yells.
Llewela gives a slight frown as the rain starts to fall. At least the downpour hasn't deterred the protest; the crowd is too fed up to be driven away by a bit of weather.
Still, where was the contact that had sent the letter? Was it actually a trap? Or a distraction to keep her occupied while something else happened? Or worse still - had the writer of the note been captured - or killed - since slipping it under her door?
She shakes her head, dispelling the thoughts (and some of the rain). She refocuses her attention on finding her contact. She scans the crowd once more, searching for black gloves.
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Believer, with her memorable chant and appearence, garners some recognition from the crowd. They recognize who she is, and move out of the way when she walks to join the mint advocates.
Maccha attempts to use Believer's chant to silence some more loyalists, but they don't seem to listen or care about the mint issue. Must not be tea-drinkers, she thinks.
Tessa, working with Llewala, finally manages to spot the contact that they've been sent to find at about three minutes after the third hour of the protest passes. They start to make their way towards him, but the loud ringing peals of the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus chime three times, drowning out any protests on both sides and drawing the attention of the entire crowd.
A moment later, a figure on the opera house balcony throws the curtains open and steps out to address the crowd. It's obvious who this figure is that's been watching from the opera balcony: Barzillai Thrune. Thrune is an imposing man dressed in red, orange, and black clothing and an ornate breastplate, all emblazoned with the pentagram of Asmodeus and the cross of Cheliax. Middle-aged, with short, dark hair and a diabolical mace cradled in his hands, the lord-mayor of Kintargo addresses the crowd with a condescending sneer. The gathering swiftly grows quiet as he clears his throat and speaks to the crowd.
“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!”
Maccha sings in vain for far too long, until her throat feels sore, to no effect. She leaves the group in case they turn against her and joins Believer back, who is now a local protest celebrity.
She looks for other groups to influence but her actions and thoughts are cut short by the bells of the Cathedral of Asmodeus, bells which he heard a lot, specially during her studies there on her childhood. To this day, she fights the reflex of saying out loud passages of the Asmodean Monograph when hearing the bells: Hail, Asmodeus! Deliver us from chaos...
And, suddenly, he was there. Barzillai Thrune himself, in much finer clothing than in his boots on the grounds inquisitorial days. Maccha cannot help but flash back to the day she saw him burning down her own home.
The memories of the smoke and the smell of burning flesh makes it hard to concentrate on his speech, until that is...
Squassation? Maccha didn't know where she learned this, but IT WAS either on the streets or under tutelage of the Church of Asmodeus. This was a horrible method of torture. She frantically looked around, trying to see if people understood the gravity of the situation. She rushed to Believer and grabbed her by the arm.
"We have to leave. Now!"
Believer's brow furrows in confusion as the Lord-Mayor concludes his speech. "What is the man on about? No one said anything about ship captains!" She asks aloud to anyone who might be close enough to hear. She didn't even have the slightest inkling as to with what Thrune was threatening the poor captains.
Then Maccha was at her side in a state of agitation. She put a steadying hand on the younger woman's shoulder and asked. "What is it? What's wrong? Are you well?" Her burgundy eyes take on a slight glow as she searches her friend's face for signs of distress. Leaning closer, she asks in a muted tone. "Is my makeup running?" But the fear in Maccha's eyes indicated something more serious had happened, or was about to.
"Listen, if things go badly here, I might go a bit... strange. If I speak, it might sound like nonsense and I will likely not understand anything you say either. But fear not, I am still myself and will ever be your friend." She nods in what she hopes is a reassuring way and cast her eyes about for the quickest method to escape the square.
"The young half-elf who was standing atop the fountain there, I believe I know her mother. Let us try to make sure she makes it away safely as well."
Tessa doesn't know what Squassation is, but even as sheltered as she'd been for most of her life, she'd learned rather quickly that when an Asmodean starts talking about punishments she doesn't know anything about, it's safe to assume they aren't good.
"Llewela, I think we need to go," she says nervously as she tugs on the other woman's sleeve to get her attention.
Aoede, sensing the change in Tessa's mood turns about and starts looking for any signs that those allied with Barzillai Thrune are about to start moving in on the protestors. Her mind might have been shattered, but she still remembers enough to know that her mistress has plenty of cause for concern.
Llewela’s hand instinctively moves to the axe at her belt as Barzillai Thrune steps onto the balcony. Her frown deepens with every word of his mocking speech, his tone grating on her nerves.
"What is he planning?" she wonders, eyes narrowing. "Is he trying to provoke us into violence, or is he just that arrogant?"
Her fingers drum on the handle of her axe as she considers. It’s clear Thrune has no intention of listening to the people's concerns. If anything, he seems to be goading the crowd. "I just hope no one does anything rash," Llewela murmurs. Her thoughts race. If peaceful protests are futile, then Milani teaches that rebellion is the path forward. But a successful rebellion needs to be organized and planned, not baited by the oppressors.
With those thoughts she glances back to the man with the black glove, not wanting to lose sight of him now. Answering Tessa, she nods. "Yes, let's go meet black-glove."
Tessa hurries along after Llewela as they make for her contact. Aoede falls in behind them as the tension in the air weighs down on the protest.
Before you can make much more movement than a few steps after Thrune's speech, a handful of what appears to be manure flies up from someone in the crowd towards the despot. The putrid projectile doesn't hit him but instead smashes into the side of the wall next to the balcony where he stands. The shock of being so publicly disrespected sets something off in the Chelaxian man, and he sputters for a few seconds before exclaiming angrily.
“Enough of this! Nox, run them off, arrest them, or kill them. I don’t care which!”
The tone of the protest changes immediately, transforming instantly into a riot. This "Nox" seems to be the leader of the dottari, a raven-haired woman holding a glaive. She waves her arm towards the crowd, and the dottari draw weapons immediately. You see Nox mobilizing her troops but within a few seconds of entering combat, a dissident lands a lucky dagger throw and it lands directly in the dottari commander's throat taking her down.
At the same time, men and women throughout the crowd pull back their cloaks, revealing matching armbands, truncheons, and the sadistic grins of Chelish Citizens’ Group members eager to mete out some of their specific brand of “justice.” Four of these second kind are near you, and turn their eyes towards your group.
Init
24-Llewela
22-Tessa
17- them
13- Maccha
8- Believer
As chaos breaks out and violence ensues, Tessa begins to panic. Her breathing grows more rapid as her heard begins to beat like a hummingbird's fluttering wings. Seeing the leering grins of the four Chelish Citizen's Group members closing in around her and Llewela only makes bad worse.
"A-Ah--" she stammers for a moment before she sees the dull gleam of polished wood in their hands.
Her scream cuts through the tumult of the riot as she squeezes her eyes shut and pulls the hood of her cloak down as far as it will go as she tries to shut everything out.
Llewela restrains a smile as the manure splatters against the wall beside Thrune. "Serves him right," she thinks, but her amusement quickly fades as Thrune's fury erupts.
Her eyes dart around as members of the Chelish Citizens’ Group reveal themselves. Drawing her axe, she moves in front of Tessa and addresses them. "Stand down!” she demands, her grey eyes locking onto theirs. “There’s no need for bloodshed today."
She feels the weight of her axe in her hand, ready to swing if they don't stand down.
She made ready to move closer to the girls, two of which seemed to be twins and all of whom seemed to be together. She touched her rose brooch, made from a real lacquered rose from Father Blom's own garden. Then she murmured in the strange language and motioned with her free hand to call Milani's blessing onto them all.
The thugs make their move towards you, maces extended and grins wide.
"Gloves off, then, eh?" one of the women sneers.
Llewela's strikes that same woman seconds later, drawing blood from a cut into her waist. The thug cusses the warpriest out, biting her tongue in pain.
Init
24-Llewela
22-Tessa
17- them (4 damage inflicted to Green)
13- Maccha
8- Believer
Maccha listens to Believer intently while gesturing to move. She said something about speaking strangely that would only be clear in the near future. Maccha looks back to the half-elf her friend mentioned just in time to see her but also the flashing point of a riot, someone throwing manure.
Oh no.
The crowd erupted and Maccha lost track of what was happening through the noise. She woke back up to reality as a Chelish Citizens' Group member hit her in the chest with a mace, her leather armor barely softening the blow. The air left her lungs and Maccha sees everything blank for a moment.
Quickly catching her breath, she draws her twin daggers and strikes back at her assailant with one of them, using the hilt. I don't want to escalate this any further... she rationalizes to herself her fear of being killed right here and now by Barzillai's loyalists.
She does not feel her hit landing, striking the air. Her eyes dart between Believer and the half-elf they are supposed to help. We all need help!
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Believer cursed herself as she struggled to remember the half-elf girl's name, but she was coming up short. "Elaria!" She called out, hoping her mother's name would draw her attention at least. She tried to elaborate that she knew Elaria, but it was too late. Her voice came differently now, higher and with an almost musical lilt. But none of it made any sense, at least not to anyone nearby, based on the puzzled looks on their faces.
But then the enforcers moved on them and drubbed them all soundly. Maccha was struck hard and seemed to be having difficulty trying to use her dagger hilts as bludgeons. Believer's eyes flashed with a deep red glow, something dark stirring in the normally mild mannered healer. She took a step back to give herself some room and bit sharp teeth into her lower lip and caught the trickle of blood with a finger, smearing it onto the delicate chain that ran from her nose-ring to the largest of her earrings. Then she murmured in the strange language and reached out with her fiendish blood to a plane of pain and bondage. She flourished her hand in the direction of the Citizen who hurt Maccha and made a fist. A wicked chain, black and barbed, bursts out from the ground and wraps itself around the man's feet.
Then she taps her bitten lip and heals her own damage.
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Llewela scowls at her assailant. "Don't say I didn't warn you." she growls.
Her focus is momentarily broken by someone calling. The name of her mother sends a jolt of panic through her. Is her mother here? Llewela glances around frantically but doesn’t see her.
She finally spots Believer who is looking directly at her. Relief washes over Llewela at the sight of a familiar face, but it’s fleeting. She is also under assault, and Llewela's instincts kick back in.
She turns to the thug who assaulted Tessa and swings her adze around to defend her friend
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Tessa cries out in pain as the thug slams their club into her side. While Llewela takes care of them, there are still more, and Aoede moves to even out the odds.
There's a sharp crack as Aoede connects her staff to the thug's head. She turns to Tessa and grabs her arm.
"We need to leave, now," she tells the frightened young woman.
Tessa nods and looks around as she tries not to fall into a blind, unthinking panic. After a few heartbeats, she sees two more thugs menacing Believer and Maccha.
"Wh-what about them," she asks.
Within a few seconds of being struck with the dagger in the throat the commander of the dottari forces, this 'Nox', picks herself up and removes the weapon from her throat. Within a few moments the wound has completely healed and she can speak again. She begins ordering her forces around again on the outskirts of the plaza, attempting to restrain any malcontents.
Llewala and Aoede team up to take the two thugs next to them down together, both of their bodies falling to the floor with a thud amongst the noise of the crowd.
The thug is knocked down by the surprise chain, and is obviously terrified at where it came from.
The red thug stands up (provoking from Maccha) and attempts to hit her.
The blue one joins his compatriot and also attempts to bludgeon the rogue.
Init
24-Llewela
22-Tessa
17- them
13- Maccha
8- Believer
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Maccha quickly takes a peek at the three people fighting they were supposed to help and see they handily deal with the Chelish Citizens' Group members.
I have greatly overestimated my abilities, they don't need help nor am I able to offer any... And the Citizens have ceased playing nice.
Maccha had in her head she would be able to win with a hand tied behind her back, only using the hilt of her daggers, an idealization of Milani's teachings. But this was a matter of survival. Her friend helped her by knocking one the assailants down and she would be remiss to let the opportunity go to waste. As they stand up, Maccha attempts to stab them.
The dagger perforates them, but it is not enough as they attack Maccha who steps back, making them barely miss her nose.
The distraction makes her not notice the other Citizen attacking her, burying their mace on Maccha's ribs. "Believer, r-" she does not manage to finish her sentence as she loses consciousness mid fall to the ground.
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Seeing she has the younger girls attention, Believer swears in Celestial which sounded a bit like a bronze gong being dropped down a short flight of stairs. As they are clear of any danger for the moment, she makes a hand motion to urge them on, waving them away from this place and find safety.
Then Maccha fell and the world seemed to tilt on it's axis. A soft wordless sound of distress was heard as she tried and failed to reach out to her friend to soften her fall as she crumpled to the cobblestones. Cursing herself for having stepped away to free herself up to cast, she had foolishly left Maccha exposed as their only target. She grasped her hand and pulled her limp form away from the threat.
Then she lifted her friend into a fireman's carry over her shoulder and took another step back from their assailants.
Tessa sees Maccha go down and frets about what to do. A voice in the back of head offers suggests, but she tries to ignore it as she makes up her mind. She draws on the strange energies she could sense ever since that night her family had tried to sacrifice her. The runes blaze in her mind as she chants and weaves her fingers in an graceful pattern before her. A few seconds after she starts, she comes to a crescendo and the cobbles around the two thugs that were paying attention to them grows slick with slime and water.
"Aoede, c-c-can you help them," Tessa asks her apparent twin.
"I'll do my best," she says before circling around the fountain to play rearguard.
Tessa rushes up to Believer and looks at Maccha's unconscious form with worry.
"Sh-she's n-n-not--" Tessa stammers, but apparently unable to bring herself to let the question come out.
Llewela, glancing up from the thug she just downed, sees Believer struggling with the unconscious Maccha. With a cry of concern, she rushes over to help. She lays a hand on Maccha's shoulder and channels her divine power. The warmth of Milani's grace fills her, and Maccha's wounds start to heal.
With the two remaining thugs surrounded by the grease, Llewela takes a quick moment to survey the chaos. She searches for the man with the black glove but is quickly distracted by the sight of the healed(?) dottari commander organising her soldiers.
"This is getting ugly. If we don’t want to get caught, we need to move," Llewela tells the others,
Maccha strikes the thug that stood up, and his will quickly breaks as he scrambles off into the crowd.
The single one remaining tries to follow her comrade in his disappearing act, but slips in the grease and falls to the floor.
Two of Nox's dottari see you scuffling with the thugs and break off from their group to head towards you. Where the thugs were just ruffians armed with simple maces, these are the more heavily armored security forces of Thrune himself. Perhaps it's time to make an exit, stage left.
Maccha sees only blackness in her lack of consciousness but divine magic fills her body and, for a split second, she sees a bloody rose blooming. And she wakes up.
She sees her friend Believer's clothes... from very close, the rhythm of her running amidst the crowd making Maccha's nose bump against the tiefling's back. Finally realizing she is being carried, Maccha jumps off her friend's shoulder and taps on it as a silent warning.
She looks around and sees the half-elf previously mentioned, alongside two other women. Sisters? All three looked somewhat familiar, but at this moment, Maccha couldn't tell from where, but it was clear they were involved in rescuing her, so Maccha flashed the biggest smile she could.
"Thank you!! We gotta go!"
The smile also helped cover the tears that started to well up her eyes. She looked around and it was hard to know what was happening due to the chaos of the crowd, but more guards were arriving. She just bolted to the nearest exit.
Tessa nods and looks back to Aoede who sees her hesitating.
"GO!" Aoede's voice is a sharp retort over the din of the riot and is enough to send Tessa scurrying to the southwest.
"You too," Aoede tells the others as she turns to face the coming dottari. "I don't think they are in a prisoner taking mood. I'll follow right behind you."
"You're welcome, and yes!" Llewela answers Maccha with a strained smile. She casts one more glance in the direction where she last saw the contact, hoping that he hasn't been taken by the guards. Maybe there’s still a chance to find him.
"Why couldn't he arrive earlier?!" she mutters under her breath. As they sprint towards the nearest exit, Llewela mentally maps a route through the nearby streets, trying to anticipate where the contact might have gone.
"Let's loop around to Overture Street," she calls to the others. "I was supposed to meet someone here, and I'll be damned if I let this chance slip away now."
Believer understands none of the chatter, but she smiles and breathes a sigh of relief as Maccha regains her feet. She waves her arms as if shooing pigeons, encouraging ALL who can see her to quit the protest turned riot and follows Maccha toward safety and escape.
As the group hurries away from the protest gone horribly, horribly wrong, the last sight of said protest inspires a new type of fear. A large monstrous wolf-like creature emerges from the opera house with the reinvigorated Nox. Standing nearly 5 feet tall at the shoulder, the thin lanky thing roars loudly before spitting out a cone of flame that quickly disperses whatever protesters were left (and not arrested).
Soon after you leave the park and reenter into the city at large, you wander a few streets away in an attempt to escape any pursuing authorities or overeager Chelish Citizen thugs.
As you walk through the streets of Kintargo somewhat wildly, the sounds of a struggle become evident to your ears. In the mouth of a nearby alley, you see a group of those exact same thugs roughing up a man pretty badly. He falls to the ground as you notice the group, and one of them turns to see you.
"Hey, you!" he says, pointing his mace at you and making it clear the group doesn't have any good intentions.
Init:
19- Tessa
17- Believer
14- Maccha
14- Them
12- Llewela
"No! Not again," Tessa cries out as she throws her hands up and shakes her head. A soft, golden glow covers her hands for a moment as a small bead of golden light appears in the center of the thugs. It brightens as it rings like a crystal glass when the rim is rubbed just right for a few heartbeats, then stops for a second before exploding with a paff and coating everything within ten feet in glittering, golden dust.
Aoede, seeing the injured man and knowing how gleeful these thugs seemed to be about meting out their brand of "justice," waits long enough for Tessa's spell to go off before she rushes in to help him get to his feet.
She dodges around the thugs before sliding to a stop on one knee as she reaches down.
"Come on, time to go," she says to the man.
Time was of the essence, but she didn't want to press the girls she didn't yet know. Turning toward Tessa, she dips her head in greeting. "I'm Believer, but you can call me B if that's easier. Like Llewela and her mother, I am a healer. Will you let me help?" she asked, removing her glove to reveal her lavender-grey hand tipped with shiny black, albeit well manicured nails.
As they turned a corner and spot yet more thugs at work, she throws up her hands in frustration and exclaims something that sounds a bit like a windchime being shaken roughly.
She touched her rose brooch, made from a real lacquered rose from Father Blom's own garden. Then she murmured in the strange language and motioned with her free hand to call Milani's blessing onto them all. Then she pulled her sling and bullets from her pocket.