Tribune Fire
Sir Heinrich is on horseback, stopped on the side of the road talking to a giantborn, showing him the clockwork etching on the blade of his falchion. The jotun seems duly impressed.
A small crew, a group of bards and musicians, enters from the south. They sing as they walk:
Yet war, comes on the morrow-- The ache of the dawn, and our pride-- Careful, now, and gather the leathers Come sunrise, we're in for a ride!
At the end of the last line, the word "ride" comes with a growl, then a scratch of claws across leather. Kuumvu ends the scratch with a deeper thrum-thrum, an ongoing tempo that aims to build tension.
As the thrum-thrum continues, the group finds places to sit and settle among the merchant stalls. One of them tosses a hat onto the street.
Sir Heinrich resheaths his sword as the giant-kin glances at the new arrivals and shakes his head. The giant-born turns and heads into the Fire Lodge, and Sir Heinrich guides his steed slowly forward, coming to a stop in front of the profferred hat. He says, "Good evening, gents. What war do you sing of?" He drops a few coins into (or near) the hat.
Thrum-thrum. The tempo picks up with the toss of the coins. At Heinrich's questions, one of the bards laughs roughly, and then nudges her fellows, who speaks up. "The War of Blar!"
"The Alexandrians, the Arvek, on the cusp of victory--the Crimson Tide clutching their Ziggurat!"
"...the Child of Thul, hidden beneath..." a third adds in a whisper.
The drums pick up, building, building...BUILDING...
DOWN the alley we hear their horses! Down the alley, the steam of their breath! In the alley it will flow a red river-- When we show them the true death!
Kuumvu slams downwards the drum, blending in with the other drummers--other singers, performers. It creates a thundr'ous clamour and sound, like war itself.
Well-trained as a cavalier's mount usually is, the effect of the war drums' crescendoing rhythm upon the mighty destrier is visible as he neighs and lightly bucks. Hank mutters soothingly to the horse, gently stroking the beast's neck, but the look on his hobgoblin face is solemn, as if deeply meaningful memories are evoked by the song.
The knight was very young when he fled with his mother from his native Bludgun, refugees from the Thulite regime that first stole then eliminated his chivalrous father.
At dawn, we gather our horses And I take one last look towards the sky Together, we raise our blades-- --Now! Give the war cry!
The drums take off, sharing the tale of the thunder of horses' hooves, of the ride of the arvek, the Alexandrians towards the Ziggurat.
As they ride. They clash! Thunder! ...And then, silence. Now here, we mourn our poor brothers Those lost in the Crimson's war tide But for them, we've gained something other We're arvek, we've gained back our pride!
The drums take off again. A different note, but thunder all the same. Thunder, pride, victory. The right of a man to stand on his own legs.
Kuumvu, gradually, finishes off with the other drummers. Many of them are sweating, many bright-eyed, as though they themselves, had made that final run.
Sir Heinrich dismounts (once Blitzen is calmed) and says directly to Kuumvu, "Thank you for that. The heroes of Blar are worthy indeed of being remembered in song."
Stepping out of a nearby store, Lollia is a bit distracted. That would be because she's trying to carefully slide a packet of what looks like vellum into her bag without crumpling any of it, as well as several containers of ink. She can hear the drums at least, but she's a bit preoccupied as she starts to wonder down the street in that direction, sniffling in distain as she brushes at a bit of soot clinging to her sleeve with a firm intensity. "So dirty..." she grumbles.
"The arvek-make-songs-simple." The scaled's tail flicks, curls and uncurls. "One did never know a race so liked poetry."
"We took a few of your poems, rewrote'em," one of the others speaks up. He sounds apologetic, at least. This one's a human, with a beard near down to his belly.
There is a group of singers and performers seated on one side of the street. They'd just performed a song of arvek victory, of the retaking of Blar. There's a hat on the street nearby, with a few coins in it.
Sir Heinrich nods at the minstrels and says, "Well, I appreciated it. Pray, don't freeze yourselves now." He mounts up on his horse again.
The petite blonde elf is distracted slightly by her vain attempt to get the soot out of her dress, that she doesn't really notice the horse until she nearly walks into it. And Heinrich, pulling up short. "Ack!" She steps back, frowning as she peers up at the rider. "You're taking up the road..." she grumbles!
So, some folks stagger out of the Tribune in puffs of smoke.
Seems something is going on over there! Smoke is definitelt billowing out.
GAME: Kuumvu refreshes spells.
Morgan comes walking from the south with her staff as a walking stick making sure there is no more hiden ice patches on the ground.
GAME: Morgan refreshes spells.
GAME: Lollia refreshes spells.
There's laughter, among the troupe. Laughter at least, until the smoke billows out. The bearded man heaves himself to his feet, coughs, and starts yelling for the Watch!
Kuumvu unwinds, his form long, serpentine. "Pease-to-you! Do you need some help!" He tucks his drums underneath, and the heavy drumsticks beside it.
Sir Heinrich looks at the clumsy elf and snorts, but whatever he was about to tell her, he doesn't when he notices the smoke coming from the publishing building. In a moment, the knight is riding at a canter toward the building.
Lollia mmphs, muttering to herself. "Stupid people on horses, blocking people's paths...bah..." she grumbles. But she's at least curious enough to eye the Tribune. Go figure. The building full of flameable paper is on fire! She's somehow unsuprised. But she's at least curious if it'll burn down or not! And the guy on the horse appears to be riding straight there, there's every possibility he'll do a dramatic crash through the front door on the horse or something, she figures.
Hack hack hack.
The people out front are covered in soot and coughing and gesturing. There's some mumbling, between coughs, about an 'explosion' and 'printing press' and 'smoke' and 'someone'.
Lucy makes her way down the street. She seems to be drawn by the noise. Her expression is curious at first, mixed with excitement. This is Alexandria and anything can happen at any time, after all. But then once she passes enough other onlookers that her vision isn't blocked by their taller forms and she can actually see, her expresion turns more measured. "That the Tribune building!" she shrieks.
Kuumvu hesitates for a moment, a hand halfway to the drum, to the sticks. "Come...come here, my brothers and ssisters! Come here, I'll tell-you a tale!"
"Of those so strong they lift mountains! And lived, to pass on the tale!" He takes the drumsticks then, and hits, draws it along the skin. Strength!
Strength and valour! Bravery! He asks for Angoron's strength to the field!
Sir Heinrich parks his horse a little ways into the crowd and dismounts. He grans his shield and call out to the people nearby, is everyone safely out?"
Their is head shaking amongst them. Seems that, in fact, they don't think everyone is out safe. They're waving inside and trying to clear the smoke at the same time. "One of us. Go..."
More coughing. Smoke inhalation really does a number on you.
Lucy gasps. Someone still inside? She rushes for the smoke-filled entrance. "Hold on!" she shouts shrilly just before she disappears inside. "We'll save you!"
"The fire! What fire? It shrank then! Against the might of their--" Flexing muscles? Bulging pecs? Those are the usual Angorian words, and for a moment, the scaled falters. "--strength!"
There! Yes!
"As one, they toppled it over! Against their valour, it did not last; it just ssank!"
Ah, the drums. Valor! Strength! Kuumvu gives a flourish of the drumsticks, and then turns, and tosses them at his bearded companion. "Catch!" he says, voice quick-and-sharp. Then to the arvek, "Shall-we-go-in?" he asks, his eyes as bright as...a different sort of fire. And then Lucy runs in, and he can but follow!
Sir Heinrich rushes in, using his shield to bust down obstructions and guard from falling debris as he looks for people to rescue.
Well, she's at least CURIOUS what's going on. Though Lollia is much less eager to charge in, hesistating at the door inside as she kneels down a bit so she's not right in the smoke, peering inside. "Hmmm....um, if you can hear me, people inside, crawl towards the sound of my voice!" she calls.
All now enter the Tribume building
So, in you go.
It's really smokey in here! Really, really smokey, actually, and it immediately makes visibility a problem. That said, towards th4e back corner, you can hear some rustling and coughing as well from over there. Something is going on over there... a figure in the smoke by the printing press!
Kuumvu coughs into his forearm--and drops, drops to all fours. This isn't easy for him, the serpentine, scaley mongoose that he is. "I hear-them!" he says, excitedly, and coughs again! "I hear them! Over-that-way!"
Lucy turns in that direction and then edges closer. She bounces on the balls of her feet as if she's in a swordfight, ready to dodge in any direction or spring ahead in a lunge.
Sir Heinrich tries his level best to cover his mouth with his sleeve as the opposite hand bears the shield. With a mixed attempt at crouching below the smoke and navigating a hasty path toward the coughing, he plows through toward the printing press.
Yeeeeeeah no. That looks dirty. And smokey. And, like...did she mention dirty? Lollia frowns to herself, idly wishing she'd studied up on some more utility based spells today! A gust of wind or something would be fabulous. Alas. Maybe if she was a better diviner she'd have know this was coming!
She stays low so she's not breathing in the choking smoke so much, mutter. "Ughh, it's in my HAIR now...." Well, since she's ALREADY dirty...the prissy blonde moves guardedly farther inside. "Seriously, door over here, so if you're choking and stuff, come this way dummy!" she calls.
"...who's there?! Is someone there?!"
A figure, a goblin actually, is crawling on the ground, groping out toawrds you. There's another one, actually, standing in the smoke. It's... beginning to clear? ACtually, there's a lot of smoke but no fire.
The figure is human-sized, actually. Or at least humanoid.
"Woo," it squawks, masculine in tenor.
"...did I make it in time?! The Tribune must not print that article about me! It must not! Or else a great deal shall be lost!"
As the smoke clears to reveal him further, it's definitely an elf, goggles over his eyes and runes adorning his clothes.
"WHAT TIME IS IT?" he yells towards you.
"Kesenday, the firsst of Pryntar!" the scaled shouts back. Kuumvu's tail twists nervously. He can't think of a reason for the man to be here. Except that he's crazy.
"The door-is-that-way!" he shouts, pointing towards a direction, presumably one where there's also a shouting Llyranesi!
Sir Heinrich stops in his tracks, still half-way crouching and says, "By Serriel! You could have destroyed property not belonging to yourself. I dare say the management didn't authorize you to fill their establishment with smoke. You are a disturber of the peace and should answer before the law!" He slings his shield over his back and attempts to grapple the elf.
Lollia catches part of the conversation and rolls her eyes. "...paladins..." she mutters, frowning as she sneaks a bit closer, watching. Okay, she's fairly sure the big guy with the armor can handle a lone goblin. Apparently armed with smoke bombs of some sort? Hmmmm....
"Wait, what article did they print on you? I mean, it's a total rag but if it was front page it'd be obvious and such..."
Lucy moves this way and that, already short enough that she's under the worst of the smoke. "It wasn't a real fire," she reports. Even though most of the others must have discovered as much for themselves. Then she turns her most stern look on the goblin. "Don't you know you can't silence the truth. Or the Tribune," she adds after a moment.
"...don't be ridiculous! Of course you can silence the truth. The Alexandrian government has done it many times! But what DAY is it?"
He waves his hand back and forth as he clears more smoke. The crawling gobbo has grabbed Lollia's skirt, getting dirt all over it in an effort to raise himself back to his feet.
The elf, on the other hand, seems smugly pleased with himself. "I think I did it!"
"Kesssenday," the skald repeats. He looks to the gobber, then the ruined Tribune. He doesn't know what these things are exactly, but they look--
--they look as though this man has a lot to answer for. He narrows his eyes at the man, until they're little more than slits. He plays a few notes on the drumskin. Adding to Sir Heinrich's courage, and skill!
GAME: Heinrich rolls CMB+2: (16)+CMB+8+2: 26
Sir Heinrich reaches around the elf and lifts him off the floor. He says, "I'm taking you to the Watch."
For an elf, Lollia doesn't have the BEST reflexes. She's a wizard! She's not supposed to have to dodge grabby gobbos! Thus, there's a squeal as the gobbo grabs hold of her as he leaves great sooty hand prints smeared all over her pretty skirt. "Hands OFF, pervert!" she yelps, then attempts to remove him. By kicking him.
Depending on her targeting, it may be in a tender spot, but it's more flailing than intentional.
"Awk! Ow!" The goblin falls away from her on his bottom, cringing in pain. "Augh, augh," he says, "Ow!"
And then there's Heinrich grabbing onto the elf who's shocked. "Unhand me! You don't know what you're doing! I've travelled here! Travelled through TIME!"
But he's struggling with Heinrich now, trying to get his hands off him. It isn't working.
Lucy raises her eyebrows. She points a finger at the side of her head and circles it around her ear in the universal sign for crazy. But all she says is, "Travelled through time, huh? Well you must be, ah, tired from that. Perhaps you'd like to rest. In a nice cell in the city jail...?" She looks out one of the windows, trying to see if any guardsman are present outside. Alexandria allows citizens to make arrests, right...?
Sir Heinrich nods at Lucy and says, "Yes. As she says."
Lollia sniffs at the goblin. "Serves you right. Jerk." she says, folding her arms over her chest as she scowls at him. "So you threw a smoke bomb in here and now you're claiming you jumped through time? That's impossible. Everyone knows that." she points out sharply.
"...I did not throw a smoke b-," and then Heinrich has a better grasp on him. He's flailing and shouting and getting progressively more agitated. "I did too come through time! I can prove it! I.." And then he slumps into Heinrich's grasp.
Meanwhile, the poor goblin is struggling to stand again as the smoke starts to clear. Clutching himself.
Sir Heinrich stands fully upright an fireman-carries his captive toward the door. He says, "You know, I can believe the time travel story, having seen strange things in a certain wizard's tower. Anyway, that doesn't justify the havoc you've caused.
Sooo not touching the goblin, but since he's more or less standing...Lollia relocate to where she can plant the sole of her boot on his rump and give him a shove towards the door. "Thataway, pervy..." she grumbles. "And you're gonna pay for these clothes to be cleaned! Look at these soot stains! And I'm gonna smell like smoke so you totally owe me a bath too!"
Lucy follows after the others. She glances back over her shoulder once, at the printing press. "I wonder what they were so worried about," she muses. "In the paper, I mean."
...eventually, the smoke clears out and the slumped over elf is able to be turned over to the guards, who take him to the Soldier's Defense since his story is clearly mad.
And he's unconscious. It's mostly the last one.
To be continued...