The Second Golden Age of Oannon

Please see the OOC thread here.

How strange that my journeys should bring me back here... the traveller mused.

It had been many years since he had been to Riversend, or, he realized, since he even thought about it. The old town bridge that he had his first kiss on. The clocktower that he would play in with his friends... Maybe I could stay for a while and visit with some of my old friends, and mom, and maybe even... dad. So many memories came rushing back all at once. Not all of them were good, but since travelling across a warring continent, this place seemed like the last haven of peace and tranquility on Oannon, and it's just over that hill...

A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face as he reaches the crest. There it is! The beautiful Aduin river, running through the center of the town (heh, though the bridge appears to be out). Oh god, and there's the clock tower and the old mill! Something catches his eye, there's some sort of commotion going on in the town square, and by the glinting of the sun off their armor, there are a few guards there too. Squinting against the oppressive sun, he makes out... a gallows? Since when was banditry a problem in Riversend? He frowns in consternation.

He makes his way into town and arrives just as the last man drops. There were eight in total. Presently, a man in green-dyed linen steps up onto the scaffold, followed up by a single guard (probably a captain) holding up his banner. That man has the trimmed moustache, fair skin and aloof demeanor typical of a count of Forannon; but his face is unfamiliar. Cound he be Lord Gilliam's son? No... he's too old. Wait... those colors floating on his flag: green and white... House Stonebridge's colors were blue and gold. So the rumors were true, that fool did side with the secessionists. His heart sank a little.

"Your Lord Stanly of House Oswell speaks!" The ensign shouts out, hushing the crowd. Before the lord even speaks, several members of the crowd begin to walk away uninterrested, allowing the traveller to edge in a little closer. "Not this speech again" someone mutters.

"My good citizens," the lord addresses the crowd, his eyes wandering over the sea of faces as he gestures dramatically. "Know that these men who were executed today were not just traitors to House Oswell, but they were traitors to the crown itself! By attempting to waylay the royal tax collector, they have not just committed theft and murder, but treason!"

He begins pacing around on his makeshift podium. "A nation cannot exist without taxation. It is the foundation that our entire kingdom is built on. What do you think pays the soldiers who protect you? Who pays to mend the roads? They may claim to fight for a world without taxes, but what they speak of is anarchy!"

More people begin to walk away. It looks like many of those remaining in audience would have jeered Lord Stanly if they weren't afraid of being up on those gallows themselves. Their contempt written clearly across their faces.

"I know some of you still cling on to your old loyalties... But I think you'll like what I have to tell you next..." Lord Oswell announces, his voice growing more confident, like a gambler about to reveal a trump card. He pauses for dramatic effect, reaching for his belt and unstringing a bulging coin purse, dangling it above the crowd by its drawstrings. "This is a bag of holding. Inside it are 2500 gold talons. It belongs to the party who brings me Lord Gilliam's head." He looks around for a moment, smiling smugly upon seeing that he had indeed caught their attention. With that, the lord steps off his stage and makes his exit accompanied by the guards, fastening the pouch back onto his belt.

Those of the crowd who held back earlier are now jeering while others look around at eachother with greed in their eyes. "You said that you were going to repair the bridge with that money!" someone bellows. "So this is what you raised taxes for?! Just take it back from him!" someone else roars. It looks like a riot could start at any moment. What was he thinking, flashing this sort of money in public?

The traveller slips away from the mob, hanging his head down in disgust for what has become of his quiet little town. I guess I'll deliver the letter then be on my way.

*************************************************

You feel a man brush past you. You pay him no heed, keeping more mind on how to best avoid being trampled by the mob. You see a few eager-looking indiviuals entering the tavern, presumably to plot out their capture of the elusive Gilliam Stonebridge; while those that remain suddenly surge forward with cries of "For Stonebridge!" and "It's mine!"

In only a few seconds, Lord Stanly and his escort are surrounded on all sides by about 30 angry peasants. The half-dozen armsmen form a protective circle around their lord. The crowd draws back a little as the escort draws their swords, causing 2 concentric bubbles to form in the teeming mass of humanity, with Lord Stanly at the center. You stand safely out of the way, along with a few other curious onlookers. Those at the forefront of the surrounding mob are unarmed, and try to draw away from the steel longswords, but the crowd behind them is pushing forward. One panicked man, shoved into the center lunges to grab a guard's blade from him. A flash of red and a scream of pain, and his hand is lying on the road as he falls down next to it in agony, the man who shoved him taking his place.

"I am your rightful lord! Don't think that there won't be consequences for this!" Stanly protests weakly, "Gilliam was a traitor! I bought this land! I am your lord!" This claim only serves to make the crowd even more frenzied. You realize that it's only a matter of time before the bubble bursts and the mob, unarmed though it is, manages to overwhelm the guards and rips him apart.


************************

Daniel, Fighter

A young man can be made out near the back of the mob, trying to push his way inside along with everyone else. His name is Daniel, a local boy who has finally reached the limit of what he will take. He doesn't look any older than 18, but he speaks as if he has been suffering under the Lord for half a century.

He shouts, "We've put up with you damn nobles long enough! We're tired of scraping a living off the farms while you tax us into slavery! Come on everyone, they can't stop all of us! Let's get our gold back!"

[sblock=ooc]I'm not sure if inciting a riot counts as a diplomacy check, but I'll roll one anyway. 1d20+6 = 21
Also, does Daniel have his armor/weapons with him?[/sblock]

[Yes, all PCs may choose to start with their equipment with them.]

You make your way through to the middle of the crowd, rallying your brethren as you push your way through, those around you giving you a wide enough berth upon noticing you are carrying a weapon.

"Get our gold back!" Someone else takes up the cry, "Give us the gold! Give us the gold!" it begins turning into a chant as more people from the sides rush in, adding mass to the swelling crowd. Lord Stanly looks around frantically and holds the purse to his chest as if it were holy. "Give us the gold! Give us the gold!" more and more people adding their voice.

Seeing no escape, he snaps. "Fine, you want this? Take it! Take it all, you orc-blooded filth! I'll see you all hanged in the morning!" Suddenly, he pitches it into the air in your direction. It flies overhead as dozens of wide eyes follow its trajectory. It hit the ground next to a couple of bystanders, but they at least had the sense to scramble out of the way before the wave of humanity came crashing down on it.

The cry of "Forget the gold! Hang Oswell!" catches your attention. Looking back in time, you see a distracted guard get tackled to the ground by a young brown-haired peasant boy. "I've got his sword! I've got his sword!" He shouts triumphantly as the other commoners jump forward to try the same tactic. The other guards break their formation and start hacking into them. Cries of pain ring throughout the streets as the swords and mail of the armsmen stain themselves red with blood. Another soldier falls to the ground as a man with a rock hits him in the side of the head.

Lord Stanly, his eyes wild, and his clothes in tatters, lets out a cry of desperation upon noticing that his horse is no longer where he tied it. Pannicked, he abandons his shrinking escort and makes a mad dash down the street screaming "Guards! Guards!", running in a jagged, erratic pattern, stumbling over his designer shoes as he goes. Most of the jacqueries are seemingly too involved in the melee with the four remaining armsmen to chase after him.

Looking again behind you, you hear a cheer rise as a shower of gold coins literally flies up into the air, and it's all hands before it even hits the ground. [If you're interrested in obtaining the bag of holding, roll spot to try to pick out which one of the members of the crowd had seemingly obtained it].

Daniel, Fighter

Although the idea of securing the bag of gold was certainly tempting to the young man, he quickly decided to chase after the fleeing Lord. Besides, he was just as likely to get his throat cut as to claim it if he tried taking it from a violent mob. Daniel runs after the Lord, grabbing him from behind. "Oh, we're not through with you yet 'your majesty!"
He intends to bring Oswell back to the gallows, and yell for some tar (or molasses if none can be found) and feathers. [though I'm not sure if I did those grapple rolls right. /shrug]

[sblock=ooc]Grapple check: 1d20+4 = 20. (I'm guessing the Lord is unarmed, so he can't provoke an AoO.)
Opposed Grapple check: 1d20+4 = 6
No spot check.[/sblock]

You run up to him and catch him unaware as you grab a fistful of his now ragged shirt. All it takes is a single strong shove to knock him to the ground on his stomach. The crowd around him bursts into laughter and mockery of the fallen lord as you hold him down and call for tar and feathers.

He turns his head sideways to look at you, dirt covering his face and caked in his mustache. "Argh! Get off of me! Get off! I gave you my money, what more do you want? Do you work for Gilliam? That man is a rat, he's a liar! He makes promises that cannot be kept. He always was, even when he was still lord here." He shouts out before collecting his head and whispering to you in conspiratorial tones, "I always keep my promises. Let go of me now, and we can discuss this in my keep. I promise I will make you a lieutenant-- no, a captain, and all your past crimes will be forgiven. Won't your mum and dad be proud? Their son, a captain of the guard?"

Daniel

Daniel seriously considers the man's offer for a moment.
[What does Daniel know about the former Lord Gilliam? What kind of ruler was he, and does Daniel know much about his current banditry?]

Knowledge (untrained): 1d20 = 14.

Local Lore: (For your eyes only)

[Sblock]
Lord Gilliam was the lord of House Stonebridge, a noble house that had ruled this region for decades, deriving their name from the crossing that the town was built around. Lord Gilliam was, from what you hear, a very skilled ruler, and very respected among his people and his servants. He attempted to defect to the Acherian alliance along with 2 other nearby towns. He claimed that being a sovereign territory will put an end to the numerous royal fees and tolls the citizenry were suffering from (such as the ever-inflating war taxes). With the king's troops deployed to the south, he made his move.

The plan didn't work as intended, and the King struck out with his home guard, squashing the attempted secession with ease due to their lack of any standing army comparable to the size of the King and his vassal's. When they called on Acher for support, the Acherians refused to send their troops. House Stonebridge was made an example of, his entire house being disbanded. Lord Gilliam's 3 sons were hanged and his wife imprisoned. The lord himself however managed to escape and is currently in hiding in or near the town, rallying up a peasant rebellion. Most of the bandits are simply armed farmers or peddlers lynching whatever government officials they can get their hands on.

With the town lordless, the crown sold Riversend's holdings and incomes to a wealthy spice merchant named Stanly Oswell. Having not been born a noble, Oswell was never formally trained in stewardship or governance and has so far proven to be an incompetent ruler.

He has been neglecting vital civil services for quite some time, focusing most of his efforts and expenditures on trying to hunt down Gilliam.

As for the value of his oath. He has only been a lord for a short time, and he has remained mostly aloof from the lower rungs. It's difficult for you to tell whether or not he could be considered personally honorable.
[/sblock]

After a moment's thought, Daniel says quietly, "Believe me, I'm doing you a favor as it is. If all that happens to you today is some public humiliation, consider yourself lucky." He pulls the man up and puts him in a rough headlock, facing the crowd.

He announces to the mob, some of whom are bloodied from the guards' blades, "Stanley here has squandered away our gold in hunting our true Lord, while the town rots away! I say he is a fool, and a coward at that. What say you everyone?! Should we string him up, or dress him like the turkey he is?" Apparently, the young man has decided to throw his lot in with Gilliam.

Realizing he has nowhere to go now, he doesn't try to struggle. He stumbles along, twisting his neck in discomfort under your arm. "This isn't a game!" he hisses, "the bastard probably has spies among this crowd! Do you think they will end there?"

A few men grab Stanly from you. One of them is carrying a rope which he uses to tie his arms behind his back, while a young woman rushes up with a pot of tar and lets it drool over his head, slicking down his hair and running over his eyes. He spits it out in large black globes as it pours into his mouth.

A young farmboy carrying a live chicken over his head begins ripping the feathers off of it and throwing it onto him. "Bah, one chicken isn't enough, let's cover him head-to-toe!" an old beggar shouts. "Oh Pelor... someone warned the guards. Finish this up!" comes a frantic cry.

"That's right! Finish this up! Hang him!" someone shouts. Most of them roar in agreement. This crowd had attacked his escort with the thirst for blood, and blood would be served. A few people try to protest feebly, but their pleas are ignored. A burly-looking man escorts the Oswell up to the gallows. Stumbling on the first step and unable to get back up, he is literally dragged up the staircase. A scrawny, toothless weasel of a man grabs the abandoned standard and brings it up to the stage, holding it beside the lord in a mockery of his earlier speech. He mutters something you cannot make out as they tie the noose around his neck. They pull the lever, and he drops downward. His neck snaps instantly and the crowd begin to scatter, leaving him dangling among the bodies of the executed rebels.

[One Passive spot check to notice something in the crowd failed.
One NPC diplomacy check succeeded. ]

Daniel

Time to go! But where to... somewhere public I'd say, in case the guards come around. Daniel takes a final look at the scene of carnage, then rushes toward the tavern. When he gets inside, he goes to the bar. "How about some mead?" he asks the barkeep. Daniel hopes the armor and weaponry makes him look older; some people still refused to serve him on account of his age.

Sigh... I wish they didn't kill him. I mean, he probably deserved it, but it's just going to bring more trouble for the town. Daniel thinks about the town's situation, and about the poverty that seems to encompass everything. Gilliam had the right idea anyway. I wonder where he is now...

[I can wait around in the tavern for a bit, for more players.]