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It's a bad time to be doing this and sorry about that, but I think I'm going to have to duck out of this, sorry guys. My workload is flaring up something fierce due to stuff and I've got a few too many games up in the air to keep around that workload with, and I'd rather step down now and not be a problem than to leave game dragging again and again trying to keep it all working. Sucks to go like this, but you guys have fun.
Paige nods, her posture shifting down quickly, head keeping low as she slips her scimitar slowly into its sheath and draws her shortbow, keeping the gleam of her sowrd from betraying her if need be. "Mackeson?" she asks barely above a whisper, trying to stay within range of him while also slipping in toward shadowy cover, not sure what the priest will do but not wanting to just leave him alone without consulting him.
"I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case at all, and I would be furious. This city will only get worse playing games with peoples' lives and wellbeing like that. These are the most vulnerable people, and look at what has been done to them." The more she takes in the sight of the city and what has been done, the heavier it weighs on her, but she does her best to shoulder that burden quietly and keep herself moving, wanting to remain composed and capable alongside The Silver Ghost and Mackeson. "All of this over someone taking the throne. Hurting their neighbors to spite the crown... How could they ever think this was the right way to go about anything?"
"I do not go out there to confront the mob head-on, I go out there to ensure they cannot hurt anyone. An important distinction. If you wish to stay and do nothing, then fine, but you should know that the 'real world works' through taking action and seeing it through, not through the worst assumptions of the embittered." Paige begins her walk out on that note, making sure that she has everything in place and all of her tools are at the ready, for whatever it is she's stepping out into. She slips her scimitar into its sheath and walks out with Mackeson and The Silver Ghost confident and sure of her path; it may not be the safest, but it is the right one.
"I admit, the idea of sitting here and waiting for more bloodshed to occur does not sit well with me. These rioters can be tempted away; even those madmen and their planned attack of a Sable Marine were repelled. If we can even tempt some of them out of the mob, it will reduce their numbers." Paige has not been able to keep her eyes off of the outside since returning; there is nothing about this that sits well with her, and the danger only increases. "If nothing else, perhaps we can keep a distant eye and swiftly intervene if it came to such matters. I have a few alchemical items that could prove useful in distraction or obfuscation if we needed to pluck someone from danger. But I know that I cannot sit idly by here." She meets The Silver Ghost and Mackeson with a weary smile, knowing this is a bad situation bound only to get worse, but she cannot sit idly by. Darius's words give her pause, though not for the reasons he may have intended. "That is a a good point; where exactly is any evidence of an army right now? The Sable Company flying overhead, you four standing here rather than under any sort of organized attempt to quell these riots and your colleagues all over... Not that I wish for martial law to be imposed upon the city, but I have not seen a single soldier all day. One would think by this late..." She leaves the matter to drift off, not sure exactly what it means or why such decisions were made, vaguely looking toward the guards as if wondering if they have some sort of insight, but it doesn't last before she sighs and straightens herself out. "If you wish to stay, then stay. But I cannot abide by this madness. If that mob does drag someone out of the street to beat to death, I will not stand by and let them, no matter the cost."
"If need be, the temple will give us a place to make our stand somewhere much better protected than there," Paige offers. drawing a sharp, nervous breath as she listens to the sound of the mob. "And if they would be so far gone as to try and lay siege to a temple, then this city's problems would run far, far deeper than any of us are capable of dealing with." Looking out around her, Paige trembles with nerves, frustration, and sorrow. None of this is right at all. Korvosa was a city that needed help, a sick and troubled city, but this? It's not the mere dregs of the city rising up in opportunistic greed, but chaos on a level that seems almost too insane to believe.
"Arguing will do us no good," she says, more concerned with trying to ease down the contention than making one or another see the merits of their options. "Whatever we do, it is best if we do it fast, and that we steel ourselves. I fear this city will only continue to grow worse and worse as the night goes on."
Ignorance is a powerful weapon, and Paige is certain someone has whipped them into this frenzy, even if it's someone in their ranks and through 'well meaning' intentions'. But Paige can use ignorance too, as she takes another step forward and tries a new angle. "So you murder Sable Marines to lash out at her? You fools, do you realize that it will not endear your cause any more, and in fact only give her or anyone in her ear the excuse to tighten up the noose around this whole city? Something needs to be done, but that something cannot be destruction and murder like this. You are not attacking the teenage queen, you're attacking your own kin. Another Korvosan, doing what they're told. And what they're told could well turn to tyranny and oppression if you force their hand."
As she speaks, Paige tries to gesture to the guards among her as best she can without 'giving it away' that she's not being entirely sincere with these remarks, lest she end up insulting her erstwhile allies in trying to quell the mob.
Paige has already failed once today at convincing people to stop, and she hopes this time things may hold better as she lends her own words to this cause and to the hope that things calm down. "Whatever fears for this city you protest, this violence will only make it worse! Please, understand that lashing out like this will only make this city a more dangerous place. Your issue is not with this man in particular, so stay your anger and realize you are being consumed by senelseess violence."
"Paige," she says to the Silver Ghost, smiling faintly. "I didn't introduce myself in that haze, did I? Gods. My name is Paige Ward, I work in service to the Church of Sarenrae. I suppose the robes give it away a little bit." Already very worn down and frustrated after what's happening, Paige does not take kindly to Atticus's words, clicking her tongue as she regards him, straightening herself out at last and finding something to grasp onto and steady herself with. "There were children in danger, and I sought to reason before I swung my blade with men attacking private property I owe a responsibility to. I will stand in defense of myself, of those this church relies on, and any who need help. Were Mackeson and I not poised to prevent them from entering you may have missed the peril altogether." She's curt and swift with her words, partly due to the severity of the issue, partly because the sorts of guards that strongly warn against her intervention in helping people tend to be the sorts of guards eager to hurt the innocent and not want a troublemaker in the way of that. She has no way of knowing if he is, but the words do not start things off well. "So long as people are in danger, my blade will shine bright in these streets, that is all there is to matters." With that matter settled and her words spoken, she hsifts toward the others and looks around. Straightening herself out, Paige doesn't for a moment consider not following the group and seeing these people, especially the children, to safety. Some healing helps straighten her out and relieve her wounds, she's able to steady her posture and accompany the group. As she walks, her eyes glance around furiously, her usually sharp sense for scouting and streetwise wits giving way to the single-minded fixation with Lamm in ways she hasn't known for quite some time. A troll could have stumbled out of the alley hurling explosives and she would have likely missed it for the lack of any indication he has a connection that fetid bastard. But there is no missing the broader story of it, and Paige finds it impossible to ignore the chaos and the riots, the noise that follows. She holds herself steady and tries to keep her attention on what matters, but her eyes try to pick him or anyone she recognizes as associated with him out amid the crowd, if only to know he's not there and that she can rest easy. In pracrice, it is only when she arrives at the Pantheon of Many that she takes a calming breath and her shoulders ease down from her jaw. For a moment, she's able to know calm and relief, even as she lays her eyes on all the people taking refuge from the chaos. Priorities, she chides herself. You are no good to anyone being obsessed with him. The city is in danger, and things look ready to break out into total chaos. You need to calm yourself and be ready to take care of things properly. It's as she considers these thoughts that the hippogriff crashes down into the statue and then into the street. "This city is losing its mind!" It has already been a trying night in short order, but Paige tries to keep from giving in to despair, staying resolute and firm as she looks at the senseless violence, and she doesn't even for a moment consider warning or reprimand from the guards that she has come here with, beginning to wade toward the chaos confidently. Paige has already failed once, but now she's so eager to rush out into danger that she doesn't even consider a look over her shoulder to ask if anyone else is coming: she needs to set things right, even if that 'thing' is just her own self-worth.
"I-I am okay, thank you," Paige says to the Silver Ghost, looking in surprise at her. Not a look of recognition, although she doesn't realize there was any other way her contemplative stare may have been taken; she had simply never seen the Silver Ghost before, operating in the daylight and startled to suddenly be facing the vigilante. Still, she's quick to compose herself and turn toward Anguela. "No, you have my thanks, it is okay." She tries to offer a weak smile to everyone, but she is still not entirely there, and the healing magic hasn't quite dealt with the pain of it all. Or the emotional pain of having let him escape. Paige should have stopped him. Paige should have been stronger. Smarter. Should have pushed through and driven her blade right into his gut; if she had died afterward, so be it. At least Lamm could no longer hurt anyone. "Now then, the man who was... N-no, not a man. His name is Gaedran Lamm, and he is the lowliest scum in the city of Korvosa. A criminal whose favored method of getting the job done involves kidnapping poor, scared children off the street, forcing them into lives of crime, and beating them whenever they fail, or when he simply feels like hurting someone too weak to fight back." Paige lifts up the sleeve of her coat, beyond the tattoo work she's had done to cover up all the scars he's given her. The scar tissue stands pale white and raised against her brown skin, obvious in anything but utter darkness. "And my body is covered with his 'handiwork' from my own time under his heel. He attacked the orphanage. I had not seen him at first; I thought they were mere rioters, and I came out with the protection of my friend to try and reason them away from the orphanage." She motions toward Mackeson, not wanting to make any introductions for him. "Then I saw him with them, and realized his real intention. I fear the fire he set was only a contingency plan, and that he wished to take children from the arms of Sarenrae to force into his line of work."
Startled up from the verge fo death and unconsciousness, Paige gasps a tense, fiery, "Bastard"! and swings an arm about in panic, unclear where she is and what's happening, and thankfully doesn't hit Atticus or Mackeson in the process of her confused flailing. "Where is he?" she screamed, head twisting wildly around in an attempt to find where Lamm is. It takes a moment to even realize what's happening and for her last few seconds of memory and thoughts to come back to her. The fire, the Half-Orc, the children. "The fire! F#@#, we don't have time for this, we need to--" Stumbling her way up to her feet as she remains dizzy and still very hurt, only just barely back into health again, Paige fumbles in her attempts to climb up to her feet to try and run into the building, only to see the children starting to rush out of it, relief sending her collapsing back down to the ground again as she wheezes. "He escaped, didn't he?" she asks, looking up at Mackeson, deeply demoralized. "The gutter rat came to hurt these children, and still, he got away. Again." She looks up at Atticus, taking a moment to regard the stranger, who doesn't offer her the same comfort and relief that seeing a friend does. "And you helped me? You and your friends, they... Thank you. Clearly, we needed the help." Bitterness stains her voice a little bit at the end; she's thankful, but it's hard to keep from the harsh reminders that she had been cut down by one of Lamm's thugs so easily, and that she wasn't able to help the children in need.
Oops, my bad on missing that question; I'd just woken up and saw I was up, and sort of rushed on through the posts to get my turn in there to keep things moving. I'm living way out of sync with this game.
With Lamm's blood dripping now from her blade, Paige realizes she's slipping into a bit too deep and overwhelming a sense of vengeance. She tries to shake it off, shivering and tense as she grips her scimitar firmer. She needs to stay focused, lest she lose her principles and give in to revelrous violence. To help steady her mind, her body begins to move and twist, letting some unheard rhythm begin to pump through her as she accepts it into her body, letting the music guide her so that her fury does not.
It only takes a few seconds for her body to find its rhythm, and then, with a seamless swing of her arm, the dance turns deadly as she makes her swing at Giggles. If there is a fire, the way needs to be cleared for the children to get out, and she can only image one reason Lamm would come to attack this orphanage, one that makes her stomach churn. she needs them gone immediately.
Paige's priorities immediately shift right away from Giggles as her eyes set themselves onto Gaedran, hissing and shrieking from the pain of the dagger sinking into her body. Everything in his twisted grin evokes memories she has tried her best to bury, and barely repressed fury whhips up into a firm swing of her blade, mingled in with a scream of fury as she slashes at him. His voice and his presence ignite all of her traumas, but her determination to see Gaedran Lamm finally killed so he can no longer blight these streets guides her hand with a confidence she hadn't had a few years earlier.
"Even if it takes my dying breath to do it, Lamm, you're going to die here tonight, and this world will be a better place because of it." She pants heavy, grinning through the pain, knowing that a blade to her gut is something that can be fixed, but the agony that she has lived with since she was six years old will never truly fade and can never be healed, but which the death of the man in front of her will make a considerably easier burden to bear.
The firm and carefully practiced confidence with which Paige carries herself may have been prepared for just about any sort of mundane threat that could have walked through the door, but not Gaedran Lamm. It all crumbles in an instant, firm control and passion replaced with brilliant, molten fury. "I will not let you have any of them you miserable rat bastard!" Without thinking and completely removed from considering Mackeson's magic protections, she lunges immediately into the fray, starting with the nearest thug, Giggles, but as she moves to try and help defend her attacked friend, her focus burns in the direction of Gaedran Lamm. Today is the day she cleans the city's gutters of its greatest disease. She swings her scimitar in a broad, lunging motion as she moves into place to begin cutting them down, no time to begin her dance or to consider anything but swinging for these wretched thugs' demise.
As the lockpicks do their work, Paige takes a moment to pray in muttered tones to Sarenrae, standing front and center before the door, emboldened by Mackeson's magic and using herself to try and block the way in. Looking as firm and as strong as she can. As the door opens, before she has even taken in the sight of them she is at the ready, and as the door opens she stands with her scimitar at her side, free hand raised in a gesture attempting to halt them. "Stop this at once!" she shouts, voice bright with passionate fire. "This is an orphanage! A place of charity that tends to the most helpless and weak of this city. Who could truly be so craven as to attack an orphanage? Stay your hands and leave this place at once. Your anger and rioting hurts not the queen you rail against but only your neighbors, and surely you can see that this is an unthinkable extreme." She's fairly certain this isn't a group of rioters after all, but the assumption helps her paint a broader appeal for some hope at mercy, and she hopes Mackeson's blessing will help stay them enough to listen.
"I mean only the matter of leaving to quell the mob, versus leaving to get to your equipment. They are markedly different paths." She smiles and takes a moment to rig her wrist sheath back up with the dagger again for safekeeping rather than slipping it toward her hip. But before she can do much else, the child comes down the stairs and things take a harsher turn, and she lets out a tense curse word as she looks worriedly toward Mackeson. "This changes things," Paige sighs, leaning in toward one of the priests and asking them to retrieve her bow before immediately taking charge to try and corral the priests. Her voice becomes louder and firmer as she waves a hand into the air and gathers attention. "Sisters and brothers! We need to move quickly. If you can defend yourselves, find a weapon and hold steady; we need not fight, but we must be ready to do so if this mob will not be held back. If you can't fight, take the children and our guests, and lead them to somewhere safe. Lock the doors, barricade them with whatever is near, and wait until you have our signal to open it again." Her hands move as she talks; big, sweeping, gesticulating motions meant to help compel and add urgency to her words. "We will see the dawn, we need only be ready for the worst, and to make sure we remain safe, and that we take care to protect our neighbors!" Her voice drops down to normal again as she looks to Mackeson. "It looks like there is ony one path before us now. Gods, this is an orphanage. What sort of monsters would..." She drifts off and shudders, drawing her scimitar and starting to move again, looking around for her bow and drawing closer to the door. "Well, Mackeson, if we die tonight, it will have been an honour." With a polite bow of her head and a weary smile, she positions herself steady, ready to face whatever is about to storm down upon the orphanage. Her sword is held low and pointed to the ground, as she remains intent on using words and reason first, but wants her weapon at the ready in case it comes to it.
"I would be happy to accept your blessing when we are out on the street," she says, offering a solemn nod and a grateful smile. "But I'm afraid the only way I see from here to the Pantheon would be through the mob, and we had best hope that from here to there, every embittered brute can be talked down. If you wish to move on ahead without me, I understand completely, Mackeson. This is as foolish and insane a place to throw oneself as you can get, and presently you do so unarmed. Whichever path you do walk, however..." Paige gives a quick flick of her wrist, and a couple metallic clicks propel a dagger up from within her sleeve, which she catches, gives a quick flick to seize it by the blade, and offers Mackeson the handle. "It's better than nothing."
Paige has lived a life far enough removed from the upper rungs of society to truly be moved by the news, but the worrying after-effects leave her a bit more concerned. Usually she would not head out to a charity event fully armed--deigning to hide some weapons on her person for the occasion instead--but this time, she gears up fully to head out, just in case there are any problems. When she arrives, she simply leaves her shortbow in a supply closet near the entrance where she can retrieve it later, letting her scimitar hang at her hip where it doesn't look so suspicious given her station and the weapon's symbol to Sarenrae. Happy to see Mackeson, Paige makes small talk here and there when the opportunity arises, but Paige spends much of her time through the day not only attending to people, but giving impassioned speeches about how help is never far away and that through a strong, kind community can give addicts and all who suffer the strength they need to fight temptation. She tinges her speech with matters of faith, but is cunning enough to know how to weave Sarenrae's teachings and ideals into rhetoric without explicitly naming her, so that whether any in attendance believe in the Dawnflower or not, they may take the virtues she extols and better their live and their communities with them. But as the day begins to turn more violent and restless, Paige has to work harder to keep the smile on her face, eyes constantly shifting out toward the chaos outdoors with worry. "No thank you," she says politely, not much of a drinker on normal days, and having once sampled the sort of drink that Mackeson keeps in his flask; she is more than fine leaving it all to him. "I may have to step out there. The guard run the risk of making this worse if they suppress these people; misaimed as their hate might be, too many wrong moves and too strong a hand might make them angrier, and then some opportunist can claim the guard is suppressing their dissent on behalf of the queen and whip a mob into a frenzy." The strife and violence on the street is something Paige cannot abide by, and a firm tug at her heart urges her body outside to deal with matters.
@Mackeson: Yeah, him being responsible for some of Paige's tattoo work would definitely be a cool way to make that coincidental common point into something neat.
Skill ranks have now been put in, and I realize I'd miscalculated a little on the skill ranks, so I went and tidied those up a bit.
Paige wished there were more days where she could have simply flopped down onto her bed and lay face-down in the soft embrace of her exhaustion. Getting all of her weapons off of her person, slipping out of her armor, and taking care of her church garb required altogether far too much care for that, and it added a minute or two between arriving in her room and actually sliding down into bed that her ankles were always just a little too sore for her to enjoy. But the soreness was well deserved; the priests she'd been escorting to the slums weren't street smart enough to notice the pickpockets hitting them, and it had taken Paige a long run through the alleys and a couple clever shortcuts to catch up with them. It was hard to complain about being sore when good acts required that kind of devotion, but she had certainly earned her reprieve now. With a full belly and a tired body, she settled into bed, lighting the candle by her bedside table and pulling the topmost book off of the messy pile of new acquisitions she had picked up from a nearby used book store. Uprisings Against Chelish Rule: A Comprehensive Guide To Rebellions Both Successful and Failed. Interesting enough. The sun had just gone down, and Paige felt she certainly had enough time to read a few chapters before she had to get to sleep, ever mindful of the fact that she could sometimes get so deep into a book that she wouldn't notice time had passed until the knocking on her door notifying her the sun was soon to rise and it was time for morning prayers. Slipping a feather a few dozen pages in as a precaution, she marked off the place she would stop at to help hedge against accidentally reading through the night. That was a mistake she didn't need to make again.
Finally had the time to look over some backstories and peek out around things. I agree with Darius about there not really being space for him and Paige to meet, I'm fine with letting Atticus keep things fresh, Anguela and Paige move in wildly different circles and likely wouldn't have interacted before, Portia is already settled, so that leaves... Mackeson and Paige both throw time into trying to help out in the slums of the city, so I could see them running into each other here and there, and at least having a bit of common ground between their interest in tattoos, their faithful convictions, and in the sense both have been in some very low places and pulled their ways up from them. @Kiora: Yeah, that would work perfectly! Paige would definitely agree to keep things secret and be a convincing enough speaker that nobody would really ask questions when she sometimes brings back mystery donations. It would probably make Paige's side of their casual interactions on the street a bit more genuinely warm rather than "I'm being nice because kindness reaps kindness" sort of thing, especially if they're a bit closer in age.
Checking in with Paige. Since she's only recently turned adult, even if she's no longer a ward of the church she still lives at the temple in the Heights District due to her employment there. It's a tiny little room personal room that she has crammed full of books and little trinkets she holds onto just because she wasn't really allowed much in the way of personal belongings under Lamm. As far as people she lives with, I guess the whole of the Sarenite clergy in the city. |
