Shackled City: Part I

Phyrrus

First Post
A wretched drizzle falls from the ash-gray sky. The crowded, rain-slicked buildings seem especially bleak and frightful this evening, hunched together beneath the gloomy skies. A few lights burn in their windows, but mostly their shutters have been closed for the night. The scent of chimney smoke fills the air, and the din of water trundles from the rooftops, splashing into dark alleys and turning street gutters into rivulets. Suddenly, a plaintive cry for help from a nearby alley splits the evening air.

OOC:[sblock]Welcome to the game everyone. Instead of me trying to force you into the scene, I would like for the opening post to explain what you were doing out tonight, and what your initial reaction to the cry is. Looking forward to the game everyone.[/sblock]
 

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Flannad stands there in the street, water dripping slowly down his back from his hair as the sodden drizzle continues. He adjusts he cloak to try and keep the water out, but with only limited success. The inn looks very tempting, the smoke from the chimney, the sounds of laughter, and the smell of tobacco and ale, tease and tempt the young whisper gnome. He fingers his few remaining coins and knows that he needs to make them last. 'But maybe one night in a clean bed would be alright?' he thinks to himself.

The choice disappears in a moment as a plaintive cry for help from a nearby alley disturbs the sound of the splashing water running from the rooftops. With naught else to do except continue to mourn the loss of his best friend, young Flannad utters a quick thanks to Olidamarra for the distraction as he makes his way quickly and quietly through the shadows into the nearby alley to see what the commotion is. (ooc: move silently and hide in shadows, if possible, at normal speed; ie -5 penalty)
 

Architan slowly walks through the streets of Cauldron. He adjusts the hood of his cloak to keep the drizzle of his face. For the briefest of moments he wishes he was back at the temple in front of the hearth. No, the young man thinks. I have a calling and I must be strong. How can I help others if I let rain bother me? This is a night for ill omens, though.

Most of the beggars and homeless have found shelter for the night, but Arc does come across one old man, blind, who is still out. The paladin guides him to an abandoned building he knows about and leaves him with a silver coin. As he is walking away from the building, he hears the cry for help. Without hesitating, Arc takes off running as fast as he can toward the cry. What can it be?
 

Garrick stalks through the wet night, his anger almost palpable. To think that the guards had the gall to throw him out of the inn. Him! A devoted servant of St. Cuthbert, doing his part to enforce the law. He'd had a couple of drinks, he'd admit to that. And maybe it wasn't completely responsible of him to join that card game. But he wasn't stupid - despite his crude and brutish appearance - and he knew when somebody was trying to swindle him. And those men? They'd ben trying to swindle him. It had started off subtly, with veiled insults and jokes at his expense. He bore it, his iron discipline holding him back from assaulting the idiot fops as they deserved. But when he caught one cheating - well, that was an excuse. He'd swung the first punch, granted, but he'd swung it in the name of justice and fairness. If he swung it with satisfaction and prejudice too, then... well, that was his prerogative.

The watch didn't see it that way, when they arrived on the scene of the brawl. They turfed him unceremoniously out of the inn, hauling him bodily out of the door and threatening him with drawn swords when he railed angrily against their injustice. He had had no choice but to leave, and so now he was forced to walk the streets looking for another place to stay. His eyes postively burn with frustrated self-righteous anger from under his heavy brow, and anybody with any sense gives him a wide berth. He doesn't even notice the rain that is permeating his coarse mane of hair and seeping under his collar.

When he hears the scream, his most immediate thought is that this should signify an excuse to vent his anger. No guardsman could possibly object to him dispensing St. Cuthbert's wrath upon one who would prey on innocents in darkned alleyways. Drawing his long, curved sword he pounds his way towards the source of the cry, his frustrations forgotten as he readies himself for a fight.
 

Mannecinni

The damp, night air soaks through Mannecinni's rain cloak, weighing heavily on his alloy skin and his depressing thoughts. With a sigh, he shifts the package of spell components beneath his cloak as he awkwardly trudges up the slanting road that connects the two concentric avenues. With head bowed, the golem retraces his exact route from Skie's leading back to his home, stepping on the same cobblestones and avoiding the same cracks he has innumerable times before.

Perhaps innumerable is too strong a word. One hundred and eighteen times before would be a more accurate description.

Without thinking, Mannecinni ducks beneath an overhanging sign and steps over a cracked stone, his thoughts dwelling on the missing Evelyn. The orhpan girl has not stopped by the shop for days, and Mannecinni has begun to feel a strange, twisting sensation in his abdomen. He contemplates visiting the orphanage the following day, but the thought of discovering something that he fears fills him with dread.

She will be back tomorrow, he convinces himself, I am sure of it.

He hefts the package again, attempting to prevent the rain from finding its way beneath his cloak and spoil the expensive contents, when a sudden cry pierces the air.

Mannecinni lifts his head and pauses, one leg frozen in mid-step, foot hovering two inches above the next cobblestone.

The cry came again, this time a distinctive call for help, coming from the alley he had passed just moments before. Turning, Mannecinni walks to the alley to investigate and aid whoever called for help.
 

OOC: I saw this style used in a game on here before where the actions were shaded to make each angle seem more personal. If you all like this style, I will try to use it, if not, we will keep working on it until we find something that does work.

IC:

All:Moving towards the cry as quickly as you can, each of you reaches the entrance to the alley you feel that the cry came from. Standing at the mouth of it, you can see that the width of the alley is roughly ten feet across and staring down it quickly, you see it connecting to another street some sixty feet down. Like many of the alleys in the city, it slopes towards the center of town at an angle and there are stone steps lining each side of it to ease the progress along its length. While you feel the owners of the homes that line either side of the alley should be glancing about, all the wooden shutters are closed, blocking any sign of their presence.

Flannad: [sblock]Moving through the shadows as quickly and as quietly as you can, you reach the mouth of the alleyway and remain cloaked in the long shadows of the building. Glancing down into the alley, you see three figures assaulting a fourth, who now lies facedown on the wet cobblestone street. Even as your mind registers this fact, your instincts alert you to the presence of another, as your keen ears detect the heavy footfalls a heartbeat before the figure arrives.

Standing well over six feet in height, the stranger’s features mark him as one with orcish blood coursing through his veins. His eyes seem to affix themselves on the actions in the alley, and for the moment, you remain hidden from his view. [/sblock]

Arc: [sblock] Rushing down the street and ignoring those who glance your way, you reach the mouth of the alley and nearly collide with the moving statue that is walking towards the entrance to the alley as well. While your training among the clergy of Wee Jas has informed you of many things, you cannot recall now anything in their training that covered this.

Taking an involuntary step backwards, your eyes are drawn away from the construct in front of you to the alleyway as you see three men assaulting a fourth, who now is facedown on the wet cobblestones of the street. You also see another figure appear at the intersection of the alley and the street, but from this distance and lighting, it features are hard to make out. [/sblock]

Garrick: [sblock] Your anger drives you through the streets with ease, and when you reached the entrance to the alley, it seems to you that this was a popular place to be tonight.

Inside the alley, three men, well you are guessing they are men, are beating on a fourth. Their target is now facedown on the cobblestone street, but if the men are taking him being down as a signal to stop their attack, it is not showing.

As if those men were not enough, at the end of the alley, you see two more figures as well. It seems both are armored, but for now, neither one have produced weapons of any kind. [/sblock]

Mannecinni: [sblock] Staring ahead at the entrance to the alleyway, your thoughts began to move around rapidly as to what the cause of the cry could be. It was only as your peripheral vision registered the form of a large human running towards you that you stopped short to avoid the collision. The man seemed just as shocked at your arrival as you were of his, and as he took a step backwards, your mind registered more movement from inside of the alley.

Three men were beating on another, and although the fourth was now facedown on the cobblestone street that lined the alley, it did not seem as if his attackers were growing weary of their assault upon him.

Beyond the attackers, you saw another figure and while his blade was drawn, for the moment he was watching the attack just as you are. [/sblock]

All: The largest of the attackers reaches down and grabs the fallen victim by his cloak and drags him to his feet. Throwing the man roughly against the wall behind him, the man’s words carry easily through alley and to your ears. “Stay away from the orphanage, you got that?”
 

Sweet mercy! What is that? the paladin thinks, seeing the strange statue. The statue is quickly forgotten, though, as he sees the man being thrown against the wall. Someone in need! The champion of Wee Jas charges down the alley, drawing his greatsword. "Away from him, villain! Your actions shall not go unpunished!"
 

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