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Gears of Revolution: A Zeitgeist campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="Colmarr" data-source="post: 5633107" data-attributes="member: 59182"><p><strong>Session 1: Crowd Security</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color: darkorange">"I remember how everything began. Flint's streets were crowded with people - locals and visitors alike - eager to celebrate the launch of Risur's greatest triumph. Of course, there's always those who don't see things the same way as everyone else. And them sort of people keep the likes of the RHC busy."</span></p><p> </p><p>In the Spring of 500 AOV, seven years after the end of the Fourth Yerasol War and thirty years after King Aodhan captured Danor's first steam-powered warship, the nation of Risur had completed its own steamship. </p><p> </p><p>The RNS Coaltongue, manufactured in the shipyards of the industrial city of Flint, was intended to guard Risur against Danoran aggression. It was to be the first building block in restoring parity between the two nations.</p><p> </p><p>Tasked with ensuring that the Coaltongue's launch went without a hitch, <span style="color: darkorange">Assistant Chief Inspector Stover Delft</span> of the RHC assigned his best investigators to the job. In the lead up to the event, the members of RHC Team 3, more commonly referred to as RT3, spent weeks canvassing the dockyards, performing background checks on the guest list, and coordinating with the local Flint police to set up a perimeter around the royal docks. Then, as the day of the launch finally arrived, they found themselves standing with Flint's police at the first of two checkpoints. </p><p> </p><p>The king had decreed that 700 citizens would be allowed into Fleet Square to witness the vessel's launch, and residents and travellers had flooded into Flint in the hopes of being one of the lucky few. While the local police counted heads, Team 3 moved among the crowd looking for threats. </p><p> </p><p>Each of the constables knew from their earlier efforts that four groups were most likely to have cause to interfere: </p><ul> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">the Dockers; a nascent organisation of poets and dock workers angry about the continued impositions by industrial concerns on Flint's working class;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">primalists; followers of the ancient druidic faith of Risur, who see the Coaltongue as a betrayal of Risur's historic pact with the fey and their magic;</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">the adherents of the eladrin terrorist known only as 'Gale', whose attacks against technology and its proponents had grown more frequent in recent months; and</li> <li data-xf-list-type="ul">veterans of the Third or Fourth Yerasol Wars, bitter about their long-standing conflict with the tiefling nation of Danor and resentful of the Coaltongue's engineer, the Danoran tiefling <span style="color: darkorange">Geoff Masarde</span>.</li> </ul><p>While Thornt hung back scanning the skies for signs of Gale's wind magic and Willheim watched the crowd with ageless eyes, Erik, Cassi and Tok moved among Flint's bustling populace, catching snippets of conversation and glimpses of activity as they went. The crowd seemed happy and carefree, enjoying the pomp and grandeur of the day's event. As liveried servants moved through the throng passing out copies of the royal anthem, Erik and Willheim spotted groups of veterans and primalists, and ushered their companions forward to investigate further. </p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, before RT3 could move in, the bells above the square rang Nones and the excited crowd surged forward, eager to take their places in Fleet Square. Erik and Cassi hurried back to join the other members of the team. </p><p> </p><p>At the same time, a grizzled sailor named <span style="color: darkorange">Thames Grimsley</span> pushed his way urgently through the crowd. Grimsley was known to the RHC as a docker, and was unwelcome in many circles for his attempts to organise a worker's union of sorts. A ragged scar down one cheek from a policeman's knife proved both Grimsley's devotion to his cause and the animosity it engendered in the city's authorities. Scanning the assembled lawmen and women, Grimsley settled on Erik. </p><p> </p><p>"You and your kind may not like me and mine," he said, "but I play by the rules. Some of these other idiots don't. They plan to interrupt the ceremony. If you'll pass a message to Governor Stanfield for me, I'll point them out to you".</p><p> </p><p>Erik's gaze was steely. "What's the message?"</p><p> </p><p>"My people are restless. They’re raring for a riot, but I'm trying to keep them calm. Tell Stanfield that if he can’t take some of the pressure off the workers, there’ll be blood in the streets."</p><p> </p><p>Erik nodded but initially said nothing. "Will you pass it on?" Grimsley pressed, and finally Erik said he would. </p><p> </p><p>The old docker turned and watched the assembled crowd for a moment before nodding in the direction of four burly working men, eclectically dressed in working leathers and flamboyant armbands and scarves. The grim-faced dockers moved as one toward the checkpoint, clearly not sharing the exuberance that surrounded them. </p><p> </p><p>Erik stepped into their path. "Excuse me gentleman. Would you mind stepping over to the side for moment so we can have a little chat?"</p><p> </p><p>The four men looked to each other before one of the them at the back replied. </p><p> </p><p>"Sod off. We ain't done nothing wrong. We're going through." </p><p> </p><p>Each of the four took a single step forward before Cassi stepped in from the side, placing a restraining hand on the chest of the nearest docker. Her face made her displeasure clear, and the gutter language that followed would surely have dispelled any remaining doubt. The docker paused in shock, before turning to look at the man in the rear. The fourth man, well-built and with an aura of confidence, was clearly a veteran. He gave his companion a viscious grin. The man turned back to Cassi and batted the knight's hand away from his chest "Right then," he cried. "It's on!" He pulled his meaty fist back to throw the first punch.</p><p> </p><p>Before the closest dockers could attack, Erik ducked away from the front lines, discharging his loaded pistol into the air beside a docker's face. The man flinched, allowing the senior investigator to move back and open some range between himself and the attackers. The sight of raised fists and the crash of the fusil shot provoked screams in the crowd, and a perimeter quickly opened up around the combatants.</p><p> </p><p>Cassi clubbed the docker in front of her with her heavy shield, but two of his compatriots moved past. They fell on the suddenly-exposed Willheim at once, and even his monastic training could not prevent the first brawler's blow landing on his cheek. "I wanted to give this to Stanfield, but any deva will do," the second docker shouted. "Pass it on for me, will you?" And then his fist crashed into the other side of Willheim's face. The deva's eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a heap.</p><p> </p><p>Tok's enchanted words soon had the deva back on his feet and Willheim moved through his assailants, scattered them away from the checkpoint like leaves in an autumn wind. At the same time, Thornt's longtoothed form dissolved into a swarming cloud of insects. A massive clawed shape emerged from the form to slash at the dockers.</p><p> </p><p>"Right, that's it, bitch", one of the dockers said to Cassi. Before the constable could raise her shield, he had drawn a short blade and slashed it across her cheek, leaving a shallow cut that poured blood down her neck and into the gorget of her plate. </p><p> </p><p>Despite that limited success, the dockers soon became frustrated with trying to penetrate Cassi's defences, and turned their attention to Erik, who was loitering with intent just behind her. Despite Cassi's painful dissuasion, both dockers landed their blows on the senior investigator, and a blade scored a ragged gash in Erik's side. He clutched at the wound before passing out.</p><p> </p><p>As Tok rushed to his leader's aid, Grimsley stepped forward. "Blades?!" he muttered. "Idiots!" Then the old docker called for Cassi to duck. The knight complied and Grimsley launched himself into the air. Sailing over Cassi's head, his balled fists caught one of the dockers in the face and knocked him senseless to the ground. His feet caught the docker veteran and he too went down. </p><p> </p><p>Almost simultaneously, Cassi smashed the face of the man in front of her with her shield. Blood sprayed outward as his nose shattered under the impact, and he went down wimpering. </p><p> </p><p>The last docker panicked, slashing at Willheim with his blade before attempting to flee into the crowd. A blue-skinned hand took him in the neck, and he crumpled breathlessly to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>As the veterans in the crowd cheered in appreciation of the spectacle, the nearby policemen moved forward to drag the unconscious dockers away. Grimsley looked from Cassi to the unconscious Erik. He nodded respectfully to the young woman. "Remind your boss of his promise," he said, and them Grimsley moved off into the crowd. </p><p> </p><p>The members of RT3 moved off the street to recover their composure as 700 citizens of flint eagerly passed through the checkpoint and into Fleet Square.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Colmarr, post: 5633107, member: 59182"] [b]Session 1: Crowd Security[/b] [COLOR=darkorange]"I remember how everything began. Flint's streets were crowded with people - locals and visitors alike - eager to celebrate the launch of Risur's greatest triumph. Of course, there's always those who don't see things the same way as everyone else. And them sort of people keep the likes of the RHC busy."[/COLOR] In the Spring of 500 AOV, seven years after the end of the Fourth Yerasol War and thirty years after King Aodhan captured Danor's first steam-powered warship, the nation of Risur had completed its own steamship. The RNS Coaltongue, manufactured in the shipyards of the industrial city of Flint, was intended to guard Risur against Danoran aggression. It was to be the first building block in restoring parity between the two nations. Tasked with ensuring that the Coaltongue's launch went without a hitch, [COLOR=darkorange]Assistant Chief Inspector Stover Delft[/COLOR] of the RHC assigned his best investigators to the job. In the lead up to the event, the members of RHC Team 3, more commonly referred to as RT3, spent weeks canvassing the dockyards, performing background checks on the guest list, and coordinating with the local Flint police to set up a perimeter around the royal docks. Then, as the day of the launch finally arrived, they found themselves standing with Flint's police at the first of two checkpoints. The king had decreed that 700 citizens would be allowed into Fleet Square to witness the vessel's launch, and residents and travellers had flooded into Flint in the hopes of being one of the lucky few. While the local police counted heads, Team 3 moved among the crowd looking for threats. Each of the constables knew from their earlier efforts that four groups were most likely to have cause to interfere: [LIST] [*]the Dockers; a nascent organisation of poets and dock workers angry about the continued impositions by industrial concerns on Flint's working class; [*]primalists; followers of the ancient druidic faith of Risur, who see the Coaltongue as a betrayal of Risur's historic pact with the fey and their magic; [*]the adherents of the eladrin terrorist known only as 'Gale', whose attacks against technology and its proponents had grown more frequent in recent months; and [*]veterans of the Third or Fourth Yerasol Wars, bitter about their long-standing conflict with the tiefling nation of Danor and resentful of the Coaltongue's engineer, the Danoran tiefling [COLOR=darkorange]Geoff Masarde[/COLOR]. [/LIST]While Thornt hung back scanning the skies for signs of Gale's wind magic and Willheim watched the crowd with ageless eyes, Erik, Cassi and Tok moved among Flint's bustling populace, catching snippets of conversation and glimpses of activity as they went. The crowd seemed happy and carefree, enjoying the pomp and grandeur of the day's event. As liveried servants moved through the throng passing out copies of the royal anthem, Erik and Willheim spotted groups of veterans and primalists, and ushered their companions forward to investigate further. Unfortunately, before RT3 could move in, the bells above the square rang Nones and the excited crowd surged forward, eager to take their places in Fleet Square. Erik and Cassi hurried back to join the other members of the team. At the same time, a grizzled sailor named [COLOR=darkorange]Thames Grimsley[/COLOR] pushed his way urgently through the crowd. Grimsley was known to the RHC as a docker, and was unwelcome in many circles for his attempts to organise a worker's union of sorts. A ragged scar down one cheek from a policeman's knife proved both Grimsley's devotion to his cause and the animosity it engendered in the city's authorities. Scanning the assembled lawmen and women, Grimsley settled on Erik. "You and your kind may not like me and mine," he said, "but I play by the rules. Some of these other idiots don't. They plan to interrupt the ceremony. If you'll pass a message to Governor Stanfield for me, I'll point them out to you". Erik's gaze was steely. "What's the message?" "My people are restless. They’re raring for a riot, but I'm trying to keep them calm. Tell Stanfield that if he can’t take some of the pressure off the workers, there’ll be blood in the streets." Erik nodded but initially said nothing. "Will you pass it on?" Grimsley pressed, and finally Erik said he would. The old docker turned and watched the assembled crowd for a moment before nodding in the direction of four burly working men, eclectically dressed in working leathers and flamboyant armbands and scarves. The grim-faced dockers moved as one toward the checkpoint, clearly not sharing the exuberance that surrounded them. Erik stepped into their path. "Excuse me gentleman. Would you mind stepping over to the side for moment so we can have a little chat?" The four men looked to each other before one of the them at the back replied. "Sod off. We ain't done nothing wrong. We're going through." Each of the four took a single step forward before Cassi stepped in from the side, placing a restraining hand on the chest of the nearest docker. Her face made her displeasure clear, and the gutter language that followed would surely have dispelled any remaining doubt. The docker paused in shock, before turning to look at the man in the rear. The fourth man, well-built and with an aura of confidence, was clearly a veteran. He gave his companion a viscious grin. The man turned back to Cassi and batted the knight's hand away from his chest "Right then," he cried. "It's on!" He pulled his meaty fist back to throw the first punch. Before the closest dockers could attack, Erik ducked away from the front lines, discharging his loaded pistol into the air beside a docker's face. The man flinched, allowing the senior investigator to move back and open some range between himself and the attackers. The sight of raised fists and the crash of the fusil shot provoked screams in the crowd, and a perimeter quickly opened up around the combatants. Cassi clubbed the docker in front of her with her heavy shield, but two of his compatriots moved past. They fell on the suddenly-exposed Willheim at once, and even his monastic training could not prevent the first brawler's blow landing on his cheek. "I wanted to give this to Stanfield, but any deva will do," the second docker shouted. "Pass it on for me, will you?" And then his fist crashed into the other side of Willheim's face. The deva's eyes rolled back and he collapsed in a heap. Tok's enchanted words soon had the deva back on his feet and Willheim moved through his assailants, scattered them away from the checkpoint like leaves in an autumn wind. At the same time, Thornt's longtoothed form dissolved into a swarming cloud of insects. A massive clawed shape emerged from the form to slash at the dockers. "Right, that's it, bitch", one of the dockers said to Cassi. Before the constable could raise her shield, he had drawn a short blade and slashed it across her cheek, leaving a shallow cut that poured blood down her neck and into the gorget of her plate. Despite that limited success, the dockers soon became frustrated with trying to penetrate Cassi's defences, and turned their attention to Erik, who was loitering with intent just behind her. Despite Cassi's painful dissuasion, both dockers landed their blows on the senior investigator, and a blade scored a ragged gash in Erik's side. He clutched at the wound before passing out. As Tok rushed to his leader's aid, Grimsley stepped forward. "Blades?!" he muttered. "Idiots!" Then the old docker called for Cassi to duck. The knight complied and Grimsley launched himself into the air. Sailing over Cassi's head, his balled fists caught one of the dockers in the face and knocked him senseless to the ground. His feet caught the docker veteran and he too went down. Almost simultaneously, Cassi smashed the face of the man in front of her with her shield. Blood sprayed outward as his nose shattered under the impact, and he went down wimpering. The last docker panicked, slashing at Willheim with his blade before attempting to flee into the crowd. A blue-skinned hand took him in the neck, and he crumpled breathlessly to the ground. As the veterans in the crowd cheered in appreciation of the spectacle, the nearby policemen moved forward to drag the unconscious dockers away. Grimsley looked from Cassi to the unconscious Erik. He nodded respectfully to the young woman. "Remind your boss of his promise," he said, and them Grimsley moved off into the crowd. The members of RT3 moved off the street to recover their composure as 700 citizens of flint eagerly passed through the checkpoint and into Fleet Square. [/QUOTE]
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