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Post by sojourn on Jul 8, 2019 19:21:31 GMT
Spring 1490 Trade Ward | Mid-Morning T here had been rumors for a few weeks now, whispers through the underbelly of the city, that copper coins had suddenly found themselves in short supply. At first, it was almost laughable—a shortage of any kind of coin, here in the City of Splendors? Surely, it was just a ploy of the guilds and merchants to drive up prices during the full bloom of spring in order to hoard for themselves a fortune by harvest in autumn. Had Xanathar really gained so much power and influence that his thieves' guild was now devouring that much cash? Gods, it felt like a lie and so it was treated as such by much of the general populace. Life went on as it did for those few weeks with a bit of laughter in taverns over leaving a tip and a few smirks around the market squares over haggling for better prices. Because, what if it was true?Then, suddenly, the City Watch began to hang signs. Notices nailed to various information boards across the city read quite clearly:There was, of course, more than just mere grumbling at that, especially in the poorer parts of the city among those who begged on a daily basis, among the buskers, among the street folk who lived from coin to coin and meal to meal. The Trade Ward and South Ward felt the squeeze. The Dock Ward and Mistshore suffered. Meanwhile, the wealthy folk in the Sea Ward, North Ward, and even Mountainside were content enough. Kieran wanted none of it, and he spent a lot of his spare time carefully tearing down the notices. He also spent some time attempting to get to the bottom of the rumors. Anything that had the Lords actually putting up an Official Announcement like this surely meant there was some truth to the coin shortage, but the half-drow couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around how it was possible given the affluence and power the city had grown into over the decades.He found himself wandering the Trade Ward, visiting merchant stalls and following some leads, disappointed to have come up with very conflicting reports about what could possibly be happening. "I was just on me way 'ome yesterday," the blacksmith's apprentice piped up in the middle of the conversation, pumping the bellows before he continued and casting a weary glance in Kieran's direction while the lithe creature leaned against the counter, testing the heft of the well-made quarterstaff in his calloused hands, "you know, mindin' me own business when this beggar came out 'f the alley. He starts cryin' an' I'm wantin' to be on my way, an' the next thing I know, he's thankin' me for my time an' I'm fuckin' broke.""You're what?" "I'm tellin' you. I was cryin'. He was cryin'. It were th' strangest thing. He deserved all my money, he did, but ... the missus disagrees. Played me like a harp, she says.""Young and stupid. That's all." The blacksmith grunted, stepping out from behind the counter and giving the half-drow a shake of his head, "But it's true, the street folk have become a lot braver lately. Pickin' pockets. Pleadin' for coins. Both ways. There's somethin' goin' on and the City Watch ain't sayin' a word.""Yeah. I got that part." Kieran sighed, "Y' know it's only a matter 'f time b'fore—"His words were drowned out by shouting from outside the open window of the humble shop. There in the streets, armed guards were escorting what could only be described as a prison cart, barred and full of several obviously harmless poor folks. A pair of men had just dragged a young woman from the end of a line of beggars waiting outside of what appeared to be a bakery while a loud, well-armored woman was shouting at the rest of them to get out of the city, waving a sheet of paper at them with the bright wax seal affixed to the lower corner,"The Masked Lords have decreed that all the homeless, beggars, low-lifes, street artists, hobos, and gutter-living whatnots be hereby banished. Leave Waterdeep's city limits within a tenday or face the consequences!"
She declared with an air of officialness, holding an arm out to stop a small boy from chasing after the woman being arrested. The few other folks outside of Sweet Treats, those who'd been waiting for cheap or free handouts at the end of the day of baking, cowered and began to disperse while the child wailed for his mother as the guards loaded her onto the cart with the others,
"Get out of here, child, before you join her." Growled the captain as she folded the decree back into her tunic with care.A crowd had gathered by now, heckling the guards and attempting to protect the other beggars who were being threatened with arrest and deportation from the city. The shouting and the protesting grew louder and the captain of the small contingent of City Watch that had come to gather up whatever riff raff they could manage to catch shouted back at them to desist or risk banishment themselves. Someone might have thrown a vegetable. Maybe two. A few folks threw copper coins at their feet in obvious rebellion to the rules. Instead of engaging the disgruntled populace, however, the cart's iron doors were slammed shut and shields were held up in protection.Kieran's lips curled into a sneer and he glanced at the blacksmith, the larger, older man shaking his head again as if they'd both known that eventually this would be coming, as if they both knew that's exactly what sort of sentiment that was about to fall from his very own lips. Because it was. He knew this would happen; he'd felt it in the darkness of his bones. With a sigh, the half-drow stepped from the shop and made his way lithely through the bodies that had come out of all the businesses on the street, violet gaze fixed on the boy who stood his ground in the street. The poor child was shouting and sniveling while the prison cart rumbled back into motion, the young woman shouting back for her child to go home, and he wasn't about to stand for it.Shouldering his way past a few more bodies roughly without a care if he offended them, he attempted to make his way toward the boy before he disappeared into the tide of strangers.Welcome 3personal5me , aduceron , Jarovbees , moralhazard , and tani ! Please feel free to react to what's going on and/or provide some background about how your character is involved in what's been happening with the coin shortage. There have been strangely bold beggars, a plethora of very brave crimes, and so many rumors lately. It's hard to avoid the problem! If you're new to Waterdeep, feel free to get caught up in the prison cart crowd or whatnot. Anyway, I'll post again once everyone has made their entrance! |
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Jarovbees
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Playing: Solstice (Paladin 6)/Umbrae (Sorcerer 1/Warlock 4)/Avren Wands (Rogue 2/Sorcerer 1)
Posts: 706
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Post by Jarovbees on Jul 8, 2019 21:34:38 GMT
Born (presumably) and raised in Waterdeep, the tiefling woman was rather sensitive to its changes, especially where they intersected with her areas of operation. There was never enough money to go around in the Field Ward, where she had spent most of her time and deprivation was a common state of affairs for all. Life was relatively less harsh in the Dock Ward, usually, but when it too began to suffer, she made some inquiries and began to inspect other wards, only to find a similar state of affairs for most. Of course the wealthiest of the lot weren't feeling the squeeze, they never did. But they didn't have to be included for Warden's concern to grow, not when her interests were focused on the salt of the earth folk and not those with manses and parties.
She snatched a posted sign the moment she thought she could get away with it, scowling as she read. "Not giving to beggars? Do they just expect them to starve?? Fuck that, and fuck whoever wrote this." Warden's solid red eyes glinted with anger, gritting her teeth at the notion of the law finding such a measly excuse to put the squeeze on those folks who could least afford it. She never had much on her at any given time, but the message found her feeling especially contrary and she resolved to defy it when possible.
The prison cart filled with impoverished folks and the obnoxious lady with her seal and proclamation were even more of a slap in the face, and Warden stared slack-jawed for a moment before her blood began to boil. How dare they! Shitting on the poor was hardly a new thing even in the 'City of Splendors', but taking it to heights such as this? Had everyone suddenly gone mad? "What the ever-living fuck?!" The tall horned woman joined the crowd heckling the guards and trying to protect the beggars, her jaw set and her gaze indicative of someone who was reaching the end of her fuse. This was utterly despicable, and she wasn't about to turn a blind eye, believing that would make her just as bad as the people enforcing such an insane law. Defying the notice, she threw a few coppers as well.
As the prison cart began to move, Warden headed in the direction of the upset boy in hopes of answers about his mother, and whether or not he would need a new roof over his head. Kieran was closer, and there was a twinge of relief as she spotted a familiar face, increasing her pace to catch up with him. There was an attempt to make her way while not knocking over others in the process, but otherwise she was less than gentle in closing the distance, eyes focused forward and not sparing attention for anything else. "Kieran!"
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Post by moralhazard on Jul 8, 2019 22:45:03 GMT
The night before, in a Dock Ward bar…“Well – ” the man sitting at the bar hiccupped, once, swaying unevenly back and forth on his high bar stool. “Well – lemme tell you – I heard – ” he hiccupped again. “I heard as it’s the dragon cultists,” he nodded, slowly and sagely. “The dragon cultists?” The mohawked halfling sitting on a (higher) stool next to him snorted. Unlike the drunk man he kept his balance easily, although he held a glass nearly as tall as his arm of a fiery liquid that seemed to shift and writhe of its own volition. “What are they doing to the beggars, then?” “They’re – magicking ‘em,” The drunk man nodded again, his whole body shifting back and forth with the motion. “So they’re – uh – taking all the coppers, you see? And uh – melting them for that – that dragon god of theirs.” “Sure,” The halfling snorted. He took another drink from his glass. “That’s not right,” the bartender shook his head, cleaning the inside of a filthy glass with an equally filthy rag. “That’s not right at all. It’s those filthy drow. Probably the ones they let live inside the city, stealing the coin to weaken us.” “No,” The drunk man scowled at him. “No, it ain’t the drow – it’s the dragon cultists.” “You’re both idiots,” the halfling said, lightly. “Who’re you calling an idiot?” The bartender scowled at him. “Anyway, if you’re so smart, what’s causing all this madness, then? The city isn’t safe for an honest business man anymore.” “Honest!” The halfling laughed. “At these prices?” He took another sip of his drink. “If it ain’t the dragon cultists,” the drunk man continued as if no one else had spoken the entire time, “then you can bet – you can bet it’s the nobles. Trying to keep us down!” He hefted his tankard, splashing a heavy frothing wave over the side onto his own face. He licked it from his beard, snorting noisily. “That’s right,” another voice from further down the bar piped up. “It’s the nobles! They’re doing this deliberate, keeping the coppers off the street. After all – who has more coppers than the nobles, eh? Makes sense, don’t it?” “Makes sense,” the bartender agreed in a slow rumble, nodding. He set the glass down dirtier than when he’d started and picked up the next one, beginning the process again. The drunk nodded in satisfaction, overbalanced, and tumbled off the stool, landing sideways on the ground, cheek smushing wetly against the sticky floor. He didn’t move. “Blackstone!” The halfling called. “I think your mark’s dead.” Miri stood up from a booth behind the bar, stepping out and making her way around a mysterious pile on the floor. She crouched next to the drunk man, touching his neck with two fingers. “Just sleeping,” she scowled up at the halfling. “I said get him drunk, not unconscious! What am I supposed to do with him now?” “Carry him?” The halfling suggested, grinning. “I’m not helping. Or touching him. I saw where those hands’ve been.” Miri groaned. “Shit, asshole’s not worth the effort,” she rose, nudging at the man’s ribs with her boot. He didn’t react. Miri crouched back down, bent over, and roared into his ear. “WAKE UP!” The drunk twitched, snorted, and let out an enormous fart. The halfling howled with laughter, tears streaming down his cheeks – at least until the smell reached him. Then, like all the rest, he was gaggling and choking, gasping for breath. Miri stood as quickly as she could manage, covering her nose with her hand, and laughing as well, wiping watering eyes on her sleeve.
An hour so late it’s nearly early, on the border between the Dock Ward and the Trade Ward… The water in the trough was filthy, and getting filthier with each dunk of the drunk man’s head into it. Miri held him down for a moment, then let go as he started to flail, letting him pull himself back up and out of it. “You who-” He snarled. Miri grabbed a handful of matted hair and slammed his face back into the water. With his arms cuffed behind his back and his ankles bound together and secured to a nearby pipe, the drunk’s superior strength didn’t matter – nor did his inferior vocabulary. Miri pulled him back herself out this time, coughing and spluttering, water trickling from his mouth and nose. “Awake?” Miri asked, calmly. “Feeling cooperative yet?” The drunk howled and spat and cursed, but he didn’t curse at Miri this time, and when he’d thrashed himself out he slumped and looked at her, water dripping from his food and dirt-matted beard. “I told you, I don’t know nothing about those men. I don’t know nothing about any of it.” “I told you that I know you’re a liar,” Miri spat on the alley floor. “So what’s it going to be, Walker? Would another bath help you decide?” “Selune’s tits!” The man cried. “Stop it with the baths!” Miri sighed, and shoved him back under the water, just a quick dunk before she pulled him back out. “Use some other goddess’s name,” she told him. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” The man howled. Miri grinned. “Not the right question.” The man was coughing still, doubled over, hacking as if trying to get the water from his lungs. “What in the hells do you want from me?” “Right question,” Miri said, brightly. “How about that? You can learn.”
Mid-morning, outside Sweet Treats' bakery...
“Hey!” Miri elbowed her way through the crowd, startled and thoroughly pissed off. A pleasant (hungover) morning walk in the Trade Ward had been interrupted by the rude sight of beggars being hauled into an already-mostly-full prison cart. “What’s going on here?” Miri targeted a guardsman on the edge of the pack. “I know him,” she pointed at a wet-bearded filthy man who still looked half-drunk, sitting in the wagon – distinctive for being the only one of them smiling. “What’s he doing arrested?” “All homeless, beggars, low-lifes, street artists, hobos, and gutter-living whatnots are hereby banished,” the guard and Miri both flinched as a rotten tomato splattered inches from the guards, “from Waterdeep,” he finished, and glanced sideways at her. “Better get back unless you want to be hauled up with him. They’re not too picky today, and I’ve seen better leathers.” Miri gritted her teeth. “The teeth marks are from – you know what – never mind. Walker!” She called into the cart. “Walker, what in the hells are you doing?” Walker beamed at her, and raised one specific finger at Miri from the midst of the cart. Miri held still as they kept going, heading towards Sweet Treats. “Shit,” Miri rubbed her face with both hands, tired and hungover and more than a little sick of this. She followed along in the crowd, hands shoved in her pockets, focusing mostly on the cart – at least until a familiar voice called out an equally familiar name. Miri glanced up to see Warden fighting her way through the crowd towards Kieran. She ran her tongue over her teeth, hesitant, and held her ground in the crowd, splitting her attention between the other two and the guards, close enough to be seen, but not drawing any attention to herself – not yet.
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Post by 3personal5me on Jul 8, 2019 23:48:47 GMT
Craig Baker was the owner of Sweet Treats. It was no secret that he had a habit of handing out old food at the end of the day. He delivered free bread to many of the soup kitchens in the city, and he had a habit of not charging those who did go to the shop. In short, he wasn't happy with recent developments. He had already been approached by several members of the City Watch concerning his frequent charity. He had taken to using "Barter" instead, charging the homeless rocks or flowers in exchange for bread. It was a shaky excuse at best, but it's hard to persecute someone for feeding the homeless. The City Watchmen he talked to agreed to look the other way as long as he kept it discrete.
Craig was in the kitchen of Sweet Treats when the commotion started outside. He made his way to the large front window looking out at the street, where he was greeted by the site of a barely-contained mob. "What in the world..." he mumbled under his breath as he stepped outside, into the chaos. His emerald eyes locked onto the armored woman as she spoke. The recent treatment of the beggars and buskers was bad enough, but this was ridiculous. He absentmindedly wiped his hands on his apron, before running his fingers through his hair. Faint white streaks of flour settled into his brown hair, though he didn't notice. He watched the commotion, wordless. Why were they doing this?
He stayed close to the door of the shop, the small stoop giving him a bit of a height advantage to see over the crowd. At 5'8, he looked like an average sized human, maybe mid-twenties. it was only his vaguely pointed ears that betrayed that he was a half-elf. From his vantage point, he could see as people began tossing copper coins in the street, in open defiance of the City Watch around them. He searched his pockets, but only found a cookie that had fallen into his apron pocket. he shrugged, and tossed it in with the coppers.
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Post by aduceron on Jul 9, 2019 19:23:17 GMT
Kilyax was new in the city. He had only arrived but a few days prior to what was known as the city of Splendors. It turned out to be unlike anything he expected. He had traveled far to get here but nothing was comparable to this magnitude.
Curious and somewhat amazed, Kilyax hoped to get to know the streets and their people. Although not always successfully, he tried to blend in with the culture to the best of his abilities. After all, who knows how long will he stay in a place so dense. Today, like every other day of this week, he had taken all of his belongings, not knowing where he would spend the next night, and set to explore the trade ward.
Interested in the local labor and perhaps a job opportunity, he approached a local blacksmith, only to be distracted by the commotion happening then. Slowly coming to a stop, he turned to hear what was being announced.
He frowned from a distance thinking to himself. Banishing the poor? Surely I heard that wrong. What are they gonna take from them? For a second he thought of the idea as a cruel joke, an instant of relief that turned into worry when he noticed the creeping cart behind the audience. He blinked twice and frowned further, suddenly noticed cries of despair and protest and began to move closer at a steady rate.
The short walk felt as if it had lasted an eternity. Could this really be what it seemed? Is this something common around here? With all the high expectations he had of this city, to be presented with such an unforgiving image was, to say the least, a letdown.
His pace increased with his worry as it became obvious something was off. Standing a whole head taller than most of the crowd, with such a broad complexion and as equipped as he was at the time made moving through the street anything but an easy feat. Placing his heavy claw firmly on peoples shoulders one by one to give way. Slowly yet surely, he managed to move towards the front of the cart while peeking through to see the desperate child steadily blending with the rest of the people. All kinds of yells rushed back and forth. Kilyax, confused and disappointed turned without paying attention to whoever met his single-eyed gaze. He spoke with a thick and low north-eastern, almost Slavic, accent with almost a growling undertone. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked.
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Post by sojourn on Jul 24, 2019 17:01:43 GMT
U nafraid to use his new quarterstaff to part the crowd in front of him with only a hint of gentleness, Kieran attempted to cut his way through the press of bodies like a lithe, dark knife, but he paused at the sound of his name above the catcalls and objection of the crowd, glancing over his shoulder to see the familiar and fitting face of Warden. One calloused hand shot in the air, waggled fingers as if to imply that she join him instead of in any form of friendly greeting—this was hardly a situation for pleasantries in his opinion and he already knew well enough how her mind worked in similar patterns to his own—and then he began to turn back toward where the boy had been last time he'd caught sight of him. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of something or someone else familiar out of the corner of his violet-eyed gaze, but he was far too focused on getting to the child. It wasn't as though he didn't know a fair number of folks around the city, anyway, even here in the Trade Ward. Meanwhile, the child heard the door of Sweet Treats open. He'd been standing near it, after all, and as he wiped tears and snot from his grimy face with the back of one dirty hand, he glanced over to see the tall man toss a cookie instead of a coin. He half-sobbed, half-giggled, blinking away more liquid sorrow from his face even as the crowd continued to toss copper coins at the cart. Before anyone could step on it, the dark-haired waif of a child snatched up the baked good, smeared it over his dirty tunic, and then curled fingers into Craig's apron with a tug, "Hey. D' you gots more 'f these? I wanna bring one t' me mum—" It was obvious that he was also attempting to hide behind the half-elf's larger form, stepping to one side of him as the crowd continued to yell and object, cowering once a large dragonborn stepped up in front of the cart and spoke with a loud, thick kind of voice. He shoved dirty cookie into his mouth without waiting for an answer just as Kieran and Warden would make it to the front of the bakery. The half-drow glanced down at the boy and then up again, smiling at the baker briefly, "Someone 'n th' crowd said they're jus' takin' folks outside 'f town. We'll get y' back t' your mama 'f that's th' truth." He would have crouched down to the child's level had he not been distracted by the shouting back in the street, choosing instead to place a calloused hand on the small shoulder and stare back toward the cart. "We've gots 'omewhere safe 'n th' sewers." The boy managed between bits of cookie, "I'm no' goin' wi'out 'er."The large draft horses pulling the cart hardly flinched at the bulky dragonborn in the street before them, but the two City Watch who manned the prison wagon tensed and one waved a hand, "Outta th' way. Th' Lords' orders, mate."The other guard waved a sheet of paper with the same ordinances that were plastered all over the various notice boards of the Waterdhavian wards from here to Castle Ward and even Mistshore, "Gotta coin shortage and word 'as it it's the fault 'f the poor. Now, best get out of the way 'less you want in th' wagon, too." He tossed the paper down toward the dragonborn with a sneer. The Captain attempted to dismiss the crowds, shouting at the top of her lungs for them to disperse, dodging coins and other objects thrown in her direction, clinking off her armor. She began to threatento call more reinforcements should her and the prison wagon continue to meet resistance. A few of the crowd fell quiet and fell back a little, but those near Kilyax were still quite encouraged by his presence, "Let 'em out!""Yeah! You can't arrest all 'f us!""What 're we gonna do outside the city?""Those who are homeless are no longer allowed to make a living on the streets. Those of you with homes best stay out of this business and spend your coins as ordered by the Lords!" Shouted back one of the guards. It was all a mess. All of this ... over coins? The boy mumbled through a mouthful, beginning to snivel and sob again, "I wants me mum."Looking to Warden, Kieran smirked, rebellious mischief thick in his quiet tone of voice. The half-drow knew both himself and the tiefling had found far more generosity and friendship on the streets than they'd ever found in terms of safety from the City Watch, "There's only three 'f them, an' this isn't m' ward. It's just enough 'f a scene already—all we'd need t' do is get the door open, eh?" Choices, choices!
Are you all the types to take on a few City Watch to free a bunch of vagrants and poor people? Kieran is, so you'd totally have his support there, folks. Otherwise, I'm excited to see where you want to go with this. I've left it purposefully open-ended as there's several ways to get into the main story! |
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Jarovbees
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Playing: Solstice (Paladin 6)/Umbrae (Sorcerer 1/Warlock 4)/Avren Wands (Rogue 2/Sorcerer 1)
Posts: 706
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Post by Jarovbees on Jul 24, 2019 20:40:36 GMT
Warden's expression was typically defiant at this point, and if looks could kill that guard would have been horribly slaughtered for his choice of words. This. This was why she couldn't help but laugh at people who placed trust in anyone in a position of authority, naive enough to believe that city guards would help them. They only served to protect those with the coin to pay them, and that was it. If anyone tried to dispute that, she would just lay out the numerous incidents in the Dock and Field Wards were guards were present did nothing or were too apathetic to do anything when someone did seek them out for help. No one ever cared, unless they were either part of the Red Sashes or people who ought to be.
Looking over at Kieran, she stowed that thought away for another time as she moved to join him. Most people upon glancing her way were smart enough to step aside for the walking thundercloud that was the tiefling, who was used to getting her way in that respect. Her lips formed a thin, stubborn line and her red eyes glinted, bright with righteous contempt. She had long ago ceased to be surprised by the sheer disrespect shown to those of lesser means, but that didn't blunt her temper in the slightest. If anything, those examples kept stoking the fires within until she could do something, anything to help.
Reaching Kieran's side, she gave him a brisk nod and leaned her glaive against her shoulder. Spotting Miri just inside her vision, she jerked her head, beckoning the woman to join them if she so chose. Familiar faces that she had fought alongside before weren't unwelcome, not that this had turned into a battle...yet. The amount of civilians about as enough to cause even Warden to consider her next actions carefully, though always with justice in mind somehow. They deserved to have it after being treated so badly for something out of their control, she knew that much.
The heartbroken boy earned a sympathetic glance from the tiefling woman, who didn't crouch down since she never knew if her appearance would set someone off, even in Waterdeep. "Of course you do. We won't let those pieces of work get away with this, I'll tell you that much." She shifted her gaze to Kieran and frowned, considering. "We could...but there's a chance this could turn ugly, and there's a lot of civilians. We could follow the cart just enough so that it's outside the walls and then jump it? Or follow it some more and sneak them back in when the guards aren't looking, but I don't think anyone's -that- patient, let alone me." Just seeing those within the cart was making her blood boil and she knew they had to act sooner than later. It just didn't have to be instantly, if they wanted to be considerate.
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Post by moralhazard on Jul 24, 2019 22:51:10 GMT
Miri was absolutely focused on the cart and her disappearing informant. Walker looked determinedly out of place and cheerful, grinning a bright, beaming sunny smile that revealed yellow teeth (and more than a few missing). That was why she had no idea that Kieran was standing with Warden and the man who’d thrown what looked very much like a cookie at the wagon – a dirty cookie that a sniveling little boy was now eating. Miri had no idea about any of that, because Walker, naturally, had her entire attention. It was, really, all Warden’s fault; if the tiefling hadn’t jerked her head at Miri, who’d really been looking that way only because it was kind of convenient to see the wagon from that angle – no other reason, of course – Miri wouldn’t even have known Warden was there. Except that she’d seen her in the crowd earlier, of course. Miri shifted, hands jammed into her pockets. She exhaled. Knowing Kieran, he was probably going to do something stupid. Not that she cared, anyway. It was just that – Warden wasn’t much better, really. Both of them – cared. Miri thought of Warden, furious and incensed in Wellholm; she thought of Kieran, and then decided she’d better not think of Kieran. No, as sure as Miri was sure of anything – and, naturally, there were a great many things she was sure of, such as that this hangover sucked, and didn’t make her think of any other recent hangovers. Not that there were many to think of; it wasn’t like she was waking up with one every day. If you didn't sleep, you couldn't wake up with a hangover - problem solved. No, one of the many things that Miri was sure of was that Kieran and Warden were up to something. They would have some stupid plan, probably to release all the beggars back into the city. And whatever they were planning, Miri decided – she wanted in. After all, Walker might escape if she didn’t take any action; she’d miscalculated, not scaring him worse than the assholes she wanted him to rat on. She wouldn’t, Miri thought grimly, make that mistake twice. Very, very casually, her hands still in her pockets and her shoulders totally relaxed and not at all hunched, Miri slid through the crowd towards Warden and Kieran. She nodded at Warden, glanced at Kieran – glanced down at the filthy kid sucking on his cookie, and grimaced faintly. “Thinking of busting them out?” Miri asked, casually, as though the idea barely interested her. She definitely didn’t glance at Kieran again. “This is some bullshit, isn’t it?” The human frowned, staring at the cart. “Did they lock that door?” Miri asked, curiously. She glanced at Warden. “What about that – uh – “ Miri snapped her fingers, raising an eyebrow. “of yours? With a little distraction…” A distraction, Miri thought, she might be able to provide. She checked the cart, looking at how it was held together, how it was pulled - whether there were any component pieces, for example, that could be heated or cooled to make things - unpleasant. Prestidigitation was such a useful little spell; she'd need to get a bit closer, of course, but ten feet away still gave you plenty of range to work from. There were, of course, all sorts of more obvious distractions; just something to get the guards' attention away long enough that they woudn't immediately shove the doors closed again. Once the beggars started pouring out, there would be very little they could do.
And if Walker didn’t come out of the cart himself, Miri thought, grimly, she’d climb in and drag him out. |
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Post by 3personal5me on Jul 26, 2019 1:31:36 GMT
Craig smiled down at the child, beckoning towards the door with his head. "Go get yourself some cookies and bread". He looked back to the group, eyes searching their faces. They seemed good people. "I don't think a fight here and now would be wise. It would only make them feel more validated". He bit his lip in thought. "I would recommend an ambush. A non-lethal one, of course. Oh, and I'm Craig". He flashed a smile at the group.
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Post by aduceron on Jul 26, 2019 11:31:31 GMT
Kilyax listened in disbelief as the guards addressed him. He slowly let his jaw drop slightly, lost for words. He caught the paper notice between his palm and torso as it fell towards him, then slowly closed his hand into a fist, crumpling the sheet in it. It didn’t take long for his confusion to turn to anger and for him to pull his jaw back and strongly press his teeth together.
The people of waterdeep roared behind him and those being taken away sat but a few feet from him. If he could just get a bit closer and open that damned cart. He was fully aware it wouldn’t be that simple. Pushing these guards out of the way would not be wise nor easy, he could barely get to the front of the crowd, let alone start a fight in the middle of the streets. Besides, he still didn’t know the law nor the customs of these people and on top of that he was outnumbered. Sure, there were many that would likely be willing to join, but he quickly eyeballing the crowd it was obvious not many seemed to be the fighting type and it would most likely end bad for them. He could only stand and watch.
Kilyax does not deal very well with helplessness. It took him a few seconds to collect his thoughts as he looked down at his fist and glared back at the guard. He took a big mouthful of air while inflating his chest and spoke “I feel sorry for those who take orders from the joke of a man you call lord” Switching his attention to the first guard that had spoken to him, he made sure to pronounce clearly and slowly while giving him an evil eye “Mate”. He did not take a step back but continued to speak as he pointed to the cart with the same hand that was still holding the paper. Every phrase made his voice rise slightly “We all know these people have done no wrong. Does the law in this city not swear to protect those who cannot protect themselves?”
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Post by Skell on Jul 31, 2019 15:42:13 GMT
He was searching the Market for blacksmiths when it all started. As a Warlock bound to hunting undead, to battle, it was a matter of time for Ilar to need repairs on his armor and shield. Sooner or later even the repairs would no longer be enough. By mid-morning his hopes of finding better price were almost gone. Metalmasters’ Hall must be regulating the prices, he guessed. Not that as an alchemist of the Healing House he could speak. After all, the Guild of Apothecaries and Physicians was well known for its attempts to have all nonmember medical practitioners banned from practicing in Waterdeep.
The voices of a gathering crowd brought him back from his thoughts. Before Ilar could understand what was happening, a member of the City Guard started to shout a decree from the Masked Lords. It was then that he sent Hyde, the Imp familiar that invisible rested over his left shoulder, to scout from the air. Through his eyes Ilar saw the people throwing coins and vegetables, some well-armed individuals amongst them. He saw two other soldiers dragging a woman to a prison cart filled with poor people.
On them he could see his own family years before, when they arrived at the Glimmerwood with nothing but the clothes on their back. From the roaring crowd a strong voice shouted asking for the meaning of that sad spectacle. Ilar knew the answer. When Waterdeep was retaken from the Guild Masters on the year of the Wagon the magisters swore to judge the city with fairness for all, but they also swore to serve the Masked Lords. Now it was clear which vow weighted more when it comes to applying the law. I need to do something, he decided moving on the direction of the guards.
”Excuse me, ma’am.”He said approaching the commander of the guards with raised arms. She was the smaller and probably the older of the three soldiers. Her hair was short and dark. ”I understand that you are just doing your job and following the orders of the Masked Lords, but it may be unwise to apprehend people right now.”
The last words came out of his mouth carefully painting a respect he did not feel. The pact with Darkmoon was all about keeping the order in the name of the Raven Queen and his entire life he heard about the duty carved on the name Draven. Ilar could understand the actions of the guards, the fact they must follow orders, but could not forgive their lack of empathy.
”I’m not doubting your strength, but you are in three and not only the crowd is getting increasingly agitated, amongst it there is a number of people visibly skilled at fighting.” Ilar continued, now speaking so softly that only the commander should be able to hear. He was close enough to do so.”It’s not my intention to tell you how to do your job, please do not think otherwise, it’s just… Why risk lives when you can wait to enforce the orders in a moment when there is no such agglomeration?”
The guards may not care about the safety of the poor as much as they should but if there is something that Ilar learnt through his years on the road is that everyone cares about their own survival. Three men at arms wouldn’t stand a chance if all of the angry voices decided to take action, the soldiers should know well.
”If battle starts here, even if you are fighting in self-defense and to purely fulfill your duties, word will get that members of the City Guard are attacking people.” As if they weren’t already, he thought. ”With the coin shortage it can bring forth riots. Wars started for less, someone of your office knows that better than me.” Or at least should know but going by their ability to handle civil interference Ilar was not so sure. ”Responsibility may fall to your unit and even if you are in the right the Lords may punish you all to have scapegoats and I would not like to see that.” I wouldn’t even care, let alone like.”You have ten days to do what you must, to approach things in a safer manner, so why risk so much here in this moment for few prisoners? Why not let them go for now?”
Rolling for Persuasion: L9BkD1Va1d20+51d20+5 |
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Post by sojourn on Aug 1, 2019 4:28:22 GMT
K ieran arched a brow when Warden gestured at someone in the crowd, his violet gaze following her line of sight to—oh, Miri—Gods, why?—promptly look away and glance down at the boy again, then to Craig, flashing a smile at his offering the child more food. The half-drow looked over to the dragonborn attempting to reason with the guards and skimmed over the faces of the crowd, many of whom were becoming increasingly irritated the longer the prison wagon full of people remained in the middle of the street. Anywhere but back at the human woman who'd made it abundantly clear she wasn't his friend. Or, more importantly, that she didn't even want to be.But this wasn't the time to dwell on such things because then the familiar frown of his tiefling friend was next to him and he was nodding along to her words, calloused palm rubbing over the charcoal skin at the back of his neck that suddenly felt far too hot, nails digging against his scalp while the child sniveled and both Warden and Craig offered recommendations for an ambu—Miri poured herself into the conversation and Kieran was acutely aware that she neither addressed him nor focused her contribution to the idea of an ambush at all in his direction. He certainly didn't look at her either, and he loathed how the careful but purposeful action of avoidance made him feel like someone had just poured hot lead into his chest: hot and heavy, weighing him down. His smirk faltered into a frown, but instead of responding to the questions, he watched the City Watch turn their attentions on now not only the rather intrepid dragonborn but also someone who wasn't so unlike himself—not full-blooded drow. Definitely not.Fuck today already! He should have stayed home."Yeah, Warden, I agree that confrontin' 'em here isn't a good idea, but—" The crowd had begun to taunt and jeer the guards, picking up on some of the words used by both Kilyax and Ilar:"Aye! What a 'orrible job at protectin' us lot yer doin'!""Wot, did tha' big lizard jus' put down th' Masked Lords? Arrest 'im, too!""I'd like t' see them try!""Hells yeah, there's only three of 'em! Let's take 'em."Kieran huffed, "This 's gonna explode. Shit—this crowd ain't th' distraction anyone needs. Non-lethal? That's a good one, Craig. I'm Kieran an' this be just another day in Waterdeep." He chuckled then, but it was more of an impatient noise than one that carried any humor.
Meanwhile, the Captain narrowed her eyes at the dragonborn insulting the Masked Lords of Waterdeep, "Would you like to join these fine poverty-stricken examples of our populace in the wagon this fine day, sir? I'm going to venture you're a traveler, so allow me to give you a small piece of advice as a representative of the City Watch: careful with that tongue of yours." The short-haired woman saw the approach of the dark-skinned man, her hand straying to her weapon before she let her stern gaze look back to Kilyax,"These folks don't have jobs, don't support the function of our fine city, this wondrous jewel of the Sword Coast, and therefore are not under my jurisdiction save for orders of their removal. With the copper coin shortage and their constant begging, there is, indeed, a suspicion that some network of vagrants are involved in some heinous economic crime, and—"One of her guards grunted as someone from the crowd threw a rock. The horses were growing a little tense, panicked, and while the wagon had been brought to a halt for the other guard to shout at those pressing closer to the wagon to back away. The yelling and catcalling was growing louder, growing more agitated with Ilar's approach.At least the half-drow said excuse me. As a member of the City Watch, she didn't hear that phrase every day anymore.The Captain's worried, angry face grew a little softer, but she also rolled her eyes, "Do you really know what we're doing? Listen, I—well, you both have a point and—but—" The man kept talking. She blinked." 'E said riots." Growled one of her guards.The woman frowned. Then she made a very executive choice she hoped would one day benefit the furthering of her career. She waved a hand for both the dragonborn and the other man to back away, "The City Watch is more than capable of making an informed decision without the interference of civilians, but I thank you for your very kind concerns. In order to ensure your safety, I would ask that you both back away. As in, back away so I don't arrest both of you."Stepping away from the rather persuasive pair, she gave the two armed and armored men on the prison wagon a meaningful look while she marched around it, moving to the back while enduring both the cheering and heckling of the crowd. She began to fumble for the key, people in the wagon backing away from the door in either anticipation or fear. Key in hand, she began to unlock the wagon doors.It was, of course, as that satisfying click rang out in the street as everyone waited in eager silence that someone, somewhere, threw another rock at the guards.Only the rock hit a horse.And the horse panicked.And everything unraveled from there.
The boy squealed and took off into the crowd after his mother, Kieran's fingers just barely missing snatching his wrist. The crowd began to scatter in panic, some giving chase, some berating the Captain who stood there for several moments too long, key and lock in hand, looking utterly shocked and confused. The wagon jolted off down the street—one guard falling off in surprise while the other scrambling to regain control. Everyone in the wagon, while now free to leave, certainly weren't about to leap out of the moving vehicle while it rumbled along dangerously at spooked horse speed.Kieran growled some curses in Undercommon even while his mind raced through his knowledge of the Trade Ward streets, "Say, Craig, y' gotta back door? Leads t' an alley? I think we can cut 'em off—" His violet gaze snapped to the tiefling before lingering on Miri as if to make obvious his inclusion. It was certainly not a questioning look, "—together. If two 'f you head that way—" He pointed, waggling fingers in the general direction of a cross-street before hooking a thumb back toward the main road. The half-drow trusted his own speed, even if he knew nothing of reigns or horses or stopping runaway carts. How hard could it all be? "—th' rest 'f us can try t' catch up t' th' wagon this way an' we'll meet in th' middle. 'Less you've got a better idea." Not that there was much time to air them, but he was willing to entertain options none the less..Well, that escalated quickly!
The wagon is now tearing off down the street, doors open. Kilyax and Ilar, please be careful of horses, wheels, or some member of the now-panicked crowd in your next reply! Someone is welcome to meet the boy and/or keep him safe from the panic. He will also definitely be following.
Then, let's enjoy a little chase! Or put a quick, magical end to the moment. Or something completely different. I'm sure we can all stop a runaway prison cart together. |
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Post by sojourn on Aug 1, 2019 15:08:58 GMT
aduceron 3personal5me moralhazard Skell At Jarovbees ' good suggestion, let's roll Initiative to help make this moment more decisive and organized. As an OOC note: the citizens aren't attacking the guard that fell off the wagon, but they did hit a horse with a rock and the wagon is now speeding down the street! The Captain is there, the boy is somewhere in the crowd, the wagon doors are open, and there's plenty of folks in various levels of danger. I need aduceron and Skell to make a Dex Save to jump out of the way of the wagon their turns.
Kieran, Initiative: pgxJMcoR1d20+2City Watch Captain, Initiative: 1d20+1City Watch Guard/Carriage, Initiative: 1d20+2Boy, Initiative: 1d20-2Once everyone rolls Initiative, posting order will follow accordingly. 1d20+2·1d20+1·1d20+2·1d20-2 |
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Jarovbees
Approved
Playing: Solstice (Paladin 6)/Umbrae (Sorcerer 1/Warlock 4)/Avren Wands (Rogue 2/Sorcerer 1)
Posts: 706
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Post by Jarovbees on Aug 1, 2019 15:12:44 GMT
Whatever awkwardness there was between Kieran and Miri went entirely ignored on Warden's...or maybe the tiefling was just that oblivious, focused entirely on the source of her anger. She couldn't help but notice the dragonborn and other half-drow attempting to reason with the woman in charge, which struck the cynical tiefling who'd never had reason to trust anyone in authority as horribly naive. Still, if they kept the woman's attention on them, the rest could continue to plan without interference.
"That only works on doors that are unlocked, which I'm pretty sure isn't the case this time." Warden glanced over to Miri at the suggestion, though gave her an appreciative nod for thinking of that. It had been on her mind, too, but Thaumaturgy wasn't that powerful a spell. She knew how to use it to her advantage, but the times where it actually amounted to more than parlor tricks were rare. But she knew full well that Miri had some talent with picking locks, so that didn't bother her overmuch. They just needed a good distraction or the cover of night to give her an opportunity to use it.
Her glance shifted to Craig, briefly assessing him. While she didn't seem to entirely agree with all he said, given her skeptical expression at mention of anything non-lethal, his desire to help didn't go unnoticed and she couldn't entirely smother that brief smile at his demonstrated kindness to the child. "Warden. I don't care about their sense of validation, but you're not wrong about the timing. A lot of innocent people are right in the path, when this goes sideways."
She shifted her gaze over to Kieran, nodding grimly. "It's definitely turning out to be a 'when', not an 'if'. How about--" And that's as far as Warden got before all hell broke loose. Her eyes widened in horror as the horse panicked and fled with the prison cart, the boy streaking after it almost instantly. "Fucking hell--" She shook her head at Kieran firmly. "No time for debate, let's do it!" With that, Warden immediately headed off in the direction indicated, moving remarkably fast for someone in splint mail.
Warden, initiative: 97Qw|PIc1d201d20
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Post by moralhazard on Aug 1, 2019 15:15:28 GMT
Miri initiative: YKveEqgg1d20+61d20+6
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