Clutching his battered head, Jep retreats from the belligerent guard.
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"We outnumber them," Jep repeats to many of the protesters as he makes his way through the throng. "They must yield to our demands!"
Jep tries to keep the crowd worked up while he makes his way to the edge of the throng.
From within a throng of home rule protesters, Jep tries to inspire a chant of "Home rule now!" to encourage them in putting pressure on the Thrune-appointed lord mayor.
Jep continues milling among the protesters. Among the most anti-Thrune factions, he begins quietly passing out leaflets. "The only way things are going to change is if we change them," he comments to a few.
Seeing the other tieflings approaching Amadeo, Jep excuses himself. "If you don't mind, I believe it is time I tipped the balance of these protesters..." he says conspiratorially. He wanders casually to where the protesters have congregated. He eases his way among the Thrune loyalists, joining occasionally in their chants. He sidles up beside one of them and offers helpfully, "We're clearing out, right? I heard that the paracount wants everyone out, even us. He's worried about keeping the peace. Everyone's going to be arrested. He may be right - we ought to set the example before things turn ugly,"
"Jep Greyel. Philosopher, jackanape, and doer of odd jobs," he replies. "Well met." He scans the crowd once more. "I was supposed to meet someone here, but it does not appear they are going to show."
The hooded half-elf grins. "Rebellious, eh? That's what they call anyone who can think for himself and understand the oppression inherent in the diabolic plutocracy." He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a folded leaflet and slips it into Amadeo's hand. "This is an insightful bit by someone calling himself The Grey Fox. Sometimes people need to be encouraged to think for themselves, if you catch my meaning. What's your name, friend?"
Jep overhears just a scrap of the fish wine merchant relating the sordid tale to the tiefling. He casually stands near Amadeo. "It's enough to make you sick isn't it? Not the wine, although I've never cared for it myself - the fact that a tavern full of hardworking regular folk can get burned into the sea, and the lords at the top go on supporting the regime that let it happen. Almost enough to make one restless..." From under his hood, he glances sideways at the tiefling, trying to gauge his reaction.
Jep keeps his hood pulled up over his head as he works his way through the crowd. He hopes to keep some semblance of anonymity among the protesters as he seeks out the contact mentioned in the note he received. He scans the crowd for sign of the anonymous revolutionary - a black glove on one hand, with no glove on the other. A lock of unruly brown hair escapes from the hood and dangles over his left eye, but he is too focused to notice. His arms stay close to his wiry body, a russet cloak covering his leather armor and various implements of defense and subterfuge. He is expecting anything at this event, and came prepared.
Background and personality info is up.
Stats are up. Will fill in other details. |