Defenestration of King Bryce (Risus)

[Tibbius]

Shayala, Adrian, and Herlinde stood together in the midst of a large, jostling crowd in the plaza underneath the Tower of the Moon. Chance had brought them three separately to Moontower a week ago, and had thrown them together again two nights past, in a low dive near the docks of Ullin. Since then they had been catching up on the seasons gone by since they last had met. Adrian had introduced the axewoman Shayala to the grandmotherly bounty hunter Herlinde, and the two women had found at least one bond in their admiration for fine weaponry well used. Perhaps they had other things in common, also.

Chance had brought them together. The casual bloodlust of their times and profession had lured them to the plaza, where the hulking and barechested executioner now mounted the block, followed by a hunchbacked gnome wearing the white robes of the Moon. The convict already was strapped to the cross bars, naked, his back toward the crowd.

"The convict's name, crime, and sentence now will be read," the gnome shrilly proclaimed. The executioner grasped the handle and tails of a rope flail, raised his massive arms above and behind his head, and rolled his shoulders. Somewhere in the crowd a young woman moaned appreciation for the rippling muscles.

"Reginald of Smallpond. Theft of church secrets, and their misuse to the detriment of several citizens in this city, all for illicit gain. Flogging unto death. The sentence now will be executed."

The gnome hopped down the steps from the block, and hurried toward the staircase that spiralled up into the slender Tower that hovered overhead.

The executioner drew back his arm slowly, then brought it rapidly forward and down. The tails of the flail lashed Reginald's back. Blood spattered on the executioner and on the crowd. Reginald screamed. The executioner did it again, leisurely.

Among themselves, the two mercenary women and the chartered knight discussed what they knew and conjectured of the plan to assassinate King Bryce.

Spoiler: OoC

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Here is a chance for you to contribute to the course of events in a meta-gamey type of way. Also, first to post please make clear where the group stands regarding the plot.

Spoiler: Character Sheets

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Spoiler: JbeJ275 - Sir Adrian

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I’m picturing a knight from Vertland, who was raised into the vanguard of Royce’s forces as a young man and became a small member of the royal gaurd. He was loyal to Alden’s ideals and defense of the people, believing him to the best possible king for the common people. He maintains an image of valour and style but in truth is a grizzled and ruthless veteran who will do what must be done to protect the interests and people of his present kingdom.

Main Aspect:
Veteran Knight: 4

Side Aspects:
Noble Savior Faire: 3
Leader of Men: 3

Spoiler: Feirgon - Shayala

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Oh, I just thought of something.

As a westerling, she would've spent a lot of time learning to navigate travel through the see. But she soon realized she was exceptional proficient at navigating by the stars.

So for her final aspect I will say Star-Gazing Navigator 3.
Unstoppable Axe-Wielding Death Maker 4, Unafraid to Speak Her Mind 3, Star-Gazing Navigator 3
---
As to her relationship with the knight, I like the idea that she is a sword for hire and was once forced to cross blades with the knight. She later found herself on the same "payroll" as the knight and the two got to know each other.

Spoiler: (ex)Taffimai (OPEN) - Herlinde

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Hi! I've actually been waiting for the little prelude between Adrian and Shayala to finish before dropping in

I have very bad experiences with Pbp, but this system intrigues me, I like the setting, and I feel certain that I can post several times a day for the rest of the summer if required, and probably daily on average afterwards. If you guys are willing to have me tag along, I'd like to present Herlinde:

Background
Herlinde (Herli for her friends) is an older woman, but still fit as a fiddle. She might just be old enough to remember the last years of King Garrick's reign from her childhood. Her father was a travelling merchant from Riversend who fell in love with a Stahlmen miner's daughter (ooc: I've noticed that you don't list Stahlmen as a race option. I picked the Fauchard minority to accentuate her dislike for the current political situation, but it's easily changed to some other mix, like her father being from Greycliff and her mother Kylnnic.)

She basically grew up on horseback and remembers her parents praising King Royce for favouring peace over conquest, riding undisturbed from city to countryside, through mysterious forests, bucolic valleys and rugged mountains, the horizon always beckoning. Of course, travelling with valuable merchandise isn't always safe, so she learned to shoot and to aim - after all, you often don't get a second chance. Becoming a bounty hunter just grew naturally out of her itinerant lifestyle and her love for the Thrannish Empire.

Now, everything has gone haywire: there are border checks wherever you go and most of her contacts and friends would consider each other enemies. She has no idea where her loyalties should lie, but one thing is certain: Royce's decision to split up the empire was a cowardly act of betrayal to the people.

Clichés
Herlinde thinks of herself as a Deadeye Bounty Hunter with Good Manners (4). Despite her manners, she also has a bit of an attitude which stems from her age and experience: "I've been playin' this game since before the Empire was split." (4) (I couldn't think of anything more concise). Finally, she Cooks a Mean Vindaloo (2) - a recipe she got from an old Dhartan woman who she helped to track down a childhood friend.

As religious affiliation, I choose Suntouched - she's the type to get up at the crack of dawn and have everything packed and ready to go before anyone else has finished their coffee.

Spoiler: flyinglemur - Alfred the gold

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The third son of minor Thrans nobility, at a young age Alfred was given over to the church of the moon, where he soaked in history, theology and writing amidst other scholarly arts, he was dedicated and driven, but time after time the gnomes around him ascended just a tad easier and enjoyed knowledge and privileges he couldn't after a while leaving with a few "borrowed" texts to barter away and a drive to learn far from the controlling shackles of the hierarchy.

Cliches: Illicit binder 4, well connected middle man 3, wizened scholar 3.

Rules: Risus.
And the OoC thread.

[Taffimai]

"Unnecessarily cruel that is, killin' im slowly like that," Herlinde hissed softly through her teeth. "It's gonna take him hours to bleed out from that." Unflinching, she kept staring at the scene, which was clearly intended to inspire terror in its audience more than to do justice.

"I'm tellin' you, I've got half a mind to send a bolt through his ears and put him out of his misery. Poor Reggie."

She finally forced her gaze away from her old friend and turned towards her companions.

"But we've got bigger fish to fry. If what he told me in his last message is true, then this wretched warmongerer is planning to invade Sun Citadel tomorrow just like he did here. Now, Reg won't be showing us his evidence anymore, but I know he wouldn't lie. Whatever it was he found, he believed it to be truth. And that is good enough for me."

[JbeJ275]

No surprise there. Said Sir Adrian. He’s not the type to stop unless someone makes him, and people will keep suffering until someone does.

His eyes are affixed on the suffering man, looking with no clear emption. The disgust at this sort of torture was hidden beneath an impeccable visage.

It seems like some people with skill at arms could do well to complete it, but the question emerges of whether all those who could help are willing to help with it.

With that final sentence he directs a meaningful look towards Shayala.

[Feirgon]

Shayala

Shayala raised an eyebrow.

"To be honest, I care little for the politics of this land. But, I also know tyranny when I see it."

She gives a long glance to the executioner at his work.

"Where I am from, we tend to break out in civil war to see a change in power. Usually, it comes at the cost of many lives.

I can understand why the people of this land try so hard to avoid it."

She looks back at Adrian and Herli.

"My blade is with you."

[Tibbius]

Then they three were come together in the public square not only for curiosity and bloodlust, but for a sacred obligation to witness their comrade's death that they had not been able to prevent. It was not generally known where were the dungeons of Moontiwer, and they had not been able to learn that, much less formulate a plan to spring Reginald from the depths.

They knew, however, of another plan - a plot to spring the very city, and perhaps a kingdom, from a different sort of dudgeon. This was their fourth reason for gathering among the crowd, where quiet talk might well be both unheard and unmarked, whereas the same would only draw attention in a tavern.

"But where is our fourth?" muttered Sir Adrian. The plan they knew did not depend on any one person. But each had a role.

[Taffimai]

Herlinde

"He'll be coming from the far side of the square," Herlinde repeated what her companions already knew. They had a good plan, and better than even odds of succeeding. Especially with this group.

She looked at the people she had contacted after reading Reggie's desperate message. They were solid, she knew that each could be counted on. Part one of the plan had gone off without a hitch: to get themselves into Moon Tower at a time when security was tight as the cork in a barrel o' rum. Posing as Adrian's staff had been a breeze, none of them had flinched even once as they were questioned on their way in.

Shay, too, had come through: their escape boat was moored slightly downriver of where they expected to end up after putting that miserable tyrant out of business. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Alfred to guide them inside the tower to the room where King Bryce would be getting ready shortly before his annointing. She wondered what was keeping him.

"There!" she said, nodding towards the scholarly figure who was making his way towards them.

[Tibbius]

The crowd swayed and made way for Alfred, something he had gotten used to. So long as he didn't make an appearance in the Tower itself, he remained anonymous yet respected in the vestments of a Moon Priest. Even more respected, perhaps, by the humans because he was human - one of their own who had partly ascended the hierarchy. There were no visible gnomes in the crowd.

The executioner continued his gory work. Reginald had fallen silent, probably fainted. Some in the crowd also were losing interest, shifting from rapt attention to casual chatter and in some cases drifting away from the square back to homes or businesses or taverns. The whole matter of the execution essentially lacked drama now that the screaming had stopped; it was mere butchery now, an anticlimax to a perfunctory intro.

"Do 'im over now," muttered one in the crowd. "Do 'im over and 'ave done wi'it."

[JbeJ275]

Adrian turned away from the flogging and caught a glimpse of the priest approaching them, matching eyes with his cousin , a brief hand on the shoulder got him the attention of the other to as he began to move away.

This place won’t hide our words for much longer, but perhaps there are better places, places where we can put things in motion and bring our tardy friend up to speed.

[Taffimai]

"Agreed," Herli nodded. "It seems like some of the other onlookers have already started to drift away, so we won't stand out if we leave now."

As it befitted a supposed servant, she demurely followed a respectful two steps behind the two nobles. You never knew who might be watching, and the last thing they wanted was to draw attention to themselves.

[Tibbius]

Up on the block, the executioner paused in his work, put down the cat-o-nine, picked up a bulging leather flask from the edge of the stage, and swigged a long gulp of water. He glanced across the thinning crowd, stretched his arms forward and backward, shrugged, and yawned. Audience interest was not his concern.

At the eastern entrance to the plaza, where a wide avenue led outward toward the gate of the city that faced toward Fauchard, a troop of twenty cavalry entered on horseback at a slow walk. They were followed by an equal number of infantry marching quickstep to keep up with the horses. All were dressed in bright silk garments partly covered by silvered cuirasses, greaves, and bracers tricked out with gold leaf. The infantry carried fauchards and small round silvered shields, which had little fauchards done on them also in gold leaf. The cavalry had sabres mounted in holsters on their saddles.

Royal Honor Guard of Cavalry 7; Royal Honor Guard of Infantry 6.

The soldiers began to spread out around the plaza, pairs of cavalry and infantry taking positions at the nine entrances, leaving two mounted soldiers and two foot soldiers to stand watch at the foot of the winding stair that led up into the Tower of the Moon.

Horse and Foot Detail 4.

[Tibbius]

Keeping an eye on the movements of the Fauchardan soldiery, Sir Adrian led his cousin and his retinue across the plaza to the Gilded Branch, an upscale Inne that was popular among the high class folk of Moontower. The sounds of urbane chatter drifted from the open windows as they approached.

Herli and Alfred had no qualms about entering the establishment. Shayala initially was nervous that her barbaric appearance and posture might bar her from admission. But then the bouncer gave her a wink and a lascivious grin, and she recognized him from a night of carousing in the Tanner's Arm a week or so previous. He had been quite friendly to her then, and seemed still to be so. He opened the oaken door of the place and ostentatiously bowed them under the gilt lintel of the doorway.

Inside was a bit shadowy and smoky, despite the daylight and gentle breeze coming in from the wide windows. There were fireplaces at either end of the room, one lit with a small hot pile over which a cook was sauteeing something in a big pan. There were several trestle tables set across the room, and a staircase at the back wall leading up.

The tables were set reasonably far apart, and Adrian found an open one in the corner by the stairs. He passed a few coins to the serving wench who appeared with tankards of ale, and waved her lazily away. They would be left alone until he called her back for refills.

[Feirgon]

Shayala

Shayala carefully takes a seat and grabs a tankard. Conspiracy was never her strong suit , it is why she now lives among these strangers in a strange land. Her mind drifts off for a moment as she stares into the liquid held within her tankard.

Why is this easier? I couldn't even approach an act like this back home, and yet, here I am plotting to overthrow a government I have little say in for a people I still do not know. Maybe that's just it, I have nothing to lose here. But, by the same measure, what do I have to gain by doing this? There is no profit in it...at least personal profit...

Maynir was right in knowing I would not agree to his plan, but that just means I was a predictable scapegoat. One day I'll have to return the favor. Maybe, I can learn something here to aid in such an endeavor.

Her focus returns back to the room as she lifts the drink to her lips. She lets the flavor of the ale sit in her mouth for a moment as she closes her eyes. The night may once again change her living arrangements, so she takes some time to enjoy these little comforts. Whatever may come this evening, she will be ready.

[Tibbius]

Time passed as the four conspirators made small talk and waited for the end of the lunch rush to thin and give them more space for serious talk. Despite Sir Adrian's brush off, the serving wench came back to ask them whether they would like to order food.

Then through the windows facing the plaza they heard loud and angry shouting - one shrill male voice, and a deeper male voice, rising above the hubbub of a dozen or more other people. Other guests in the establishment turned on their benches, some of them rose to investigate safely through the windows.

"Who is that fool?" someone gasped. "Doesn't he know ... you know?"

[JbeJ275]

Sir Adrian rose with the crowd, and approached the source of the scuffle, relying on confident bearing and steady gait to avoid focus falling on him as he took in this altercation.

[Tibbius]

Out in the plaza, in the golden light of late afternoon, the executioner sat on the edge of the high stone block, swinging his feet to kick his heels against the side of the block. Intermittently, he was squirting a flask into his mouth. Above him, two men argued - the hunchbacked gnome who had earlier read the sentence, and a tall human clad in the finest of silken finery and waving a rapier.

"His Highness wants the bastard finished!" said the tall human emphatically. He punched the point of the rapier in the general direction of Reginald's bloody back. His voice was the deeper one that Sir Adrian had heard.

"Don't you know the law?" the gnome demanded shrilly. "The sentence must be carried out as read!"

"Surely the caprices of the Moon will allow some variation," sneered the human. He flourished the rapier casually above the gnome's head. "My orders are to end this." He shoved past the gnome and thrust the rapier quick and deep into Reggie's back.

[JbeJ275]

Sir Adrian grabs the attention of the others as he approaches the stage, helm down and devoid of identifying marks he approaches the rapier wielded.

What’s the this? I remember when people respected the rules of law and of honour. A shame to see the young have forgotten it.

[Feirgon]

Shayala

Shayala wasn't sure how this was to play into the evening's plans but she watched from the edge of the plaza as the knight approached the center.

[Tibbius]

Up on the stage, the rapier-wielding courtier gave two more quick thrusts. Reggie's body went completely limp. His back was mostly bare of skin and already bloody, but three darker streams oozed down from the sword wounds.

Pivoting, the courtier's expression completely changed from haughty to conciliatory as he realized he was looking at the faceless visor of a fully armored knight.

"Ahh ... just following orders," he said lamely. "The king's will is law, m'lord. As ... you know?"

[Tibbius]

In response to the confrontation between Sir Adrian and the so-far nameless courtier, the two horsemen and the two footmen who had been guarding the foot of the spiraling stair up to the Tower of the Moon strolled cautiously over to the stage, where they stood sideways to Sir Adrian and the courtier.

"Gentlemen," said one of the horsemen as his mare stamped her feet, "what is the problem?"

"He's interfering with the king's business," said the courtier.

Turning to Sir Adrian, the horseman said sternly, "That's not ok. Leave off now and I'll let you go with a warning ... sir."

Spoiler

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If Adrian wants to do something other than walk away, we could make this an extended or one-shot conflict between the horseman's Officious Yet Effective Horse Soldier 3 and one of Adrian's cliches. Your choice!

[JbeJ275]

My apologies, as I had learned of the laws the contents there did not change quite so quickly. Still the buissness of a king must be respected. Even here in the free cities it seems.

Spoiler: OOC:

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I don’t know if you want a contest for this but I’ll roll noble saviour faire to throw them off thier game by insulting his King’s honour while also saying nothing that’s a direct insult or untrue.

(3d6)[5][6][5](16)

[Tibbius]

"Eh, well, just ... rrm ... let it go, now. Not a thing to be done about, right?" Gesturing to his comrades, the mounted officer urges his horse to back toward the stairs that rise from the side of the plaza near where Shayala stands.

Spoiler

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The stairs are unguarded right now. Where is everyone?

[Tibbius]

While Sir Adrian and Shayala have been out in the plaza, a small group of finely dressed people have gotten halfway up the spiral stair to the Tower of the Moon.

[JbeJ275]

OK, it’s go time. Shayala and Alfred, you head upstairs once we’re in to disable the magical protections. Me and Herlinde will be getting ready downstairs to make the hit once they’re down. Everybody in? As this is your last chance to speak up.

[Tibbius]

Alfred nods and begins to move with Shayala toward the still-unguarded white spiral of the stairs, trying to get ahead of the king's soldiers.

Herlinde grins at Sir Adrian. "With you, m'lord," she says. Her green eyes squint merrily in her tanned and wrinkled face. She reaches up and tugs tight the matching green ribbon that holds her silver ponytail.

[Feirgon]

Shayala

Shayala moves up the stairs, hoping to do so unseen. She attempts to keep Alfred and herself unnoticed from either the guards or the individuals whom just entered the stairway.

[JbeJ275]

Sir Adrian

Close in the wake formed by the King, Sir Adrian andHerlinde follow. weapons sheathed or hidden and unspeaking they move forward. Sir Adrian has much practice fitting in amid these farcial ceremoneis, and Herlinde can fit in wherever she finds herself.

[Tibbius]

The companions hasten to the spiral stairs and reach them just before the royal guards take up their posts again. The courtier with the rapier calls out - "Hey! You! Where's your invitation?" - and Sir Adrian curtly waves at him while taking the third step upward. They rapidly continue up the stairs.

Fifty feet above the ground it gets breezy and a hundred feet up it is windy and cool. The sun has dipped to halfway below the horizon, the sky is red and purple, the new moon surely has set already, and the stairs have begun to exhibit their characteristic soft white glow.

The wide opening in the center of the base of the tower glows gently as well, and the companions enter without incident. They find themselves in a circular room familiar to Alfred and unknown to the rest - about eighty feet across, with another spiral stair going up halfway around the outside wall to a transparent balcony that overhangs the room. The ceiling is about thirty feet high. Above the balcony, stairs go up the outside wall to openings in the ceiling. The room is furnished with couches and chairs of bleached leather hung on white wooden frames. The floor and the walls and the ceiling are smooth and clean and softly glow. There are no shadows in the room. There are about a dozen gnomes and three humans in the room, all wearing the soft white gowns of Moon priests. There also is a young gnome in the yellow robes of a Sun priest, and the group of a half-dozen well-dressed humans whom the companions previously spotted climbing the stairs. No one else is present. The King has not yet arrived.

Now Alfred and Shayala need to get up to the top of the tower without attracting attention. A distraction might be needed.

[flyinglemur]

Alfred scans the crowd, he needs some way to get them all focused on something else so he can climb up the tower. “I need something that will really take up their time, something they care about deeply,” he thinks and a flash of inspiration hits him, his worthless theological training might finally be useful for more than distracting the masses. He approaches the sun priest, who by the looks of it is still new, probably a favorite of some important bishop who sent him here to build up his reputation. “Let’s see if he’s cut out for this job,” thinks Alfred.

“Good day to you, fine priest of our radiant sister church. I’m pleased to see that they have deemed this event important enough to send such a respectable representative,” says Alfred. The blushing gnome quickly replies, “Thank you very much, I’m glad to be here and to see that Moon Tower is becoming quite prosperous.” Alfred follows up, ”Your appearance here is especially timely, since I have been pondering a question that has plagued my church for ages, and I’d like to find out how a sun priest would answer. What is the meaning of an eclipse?”

The gnome gives a well rehearsed answer, “Eclipses are a sign of the balance between the sun and moon. The Gods rule separate parts of the day and separate spheres of life, so the people may become confused at times and think them opposed or unequal. An eclipse is the union of the sun and moon, and so reminds the people that the two do not fight over night and day, but simply divide up time evenly as they see fit.”

Alfred has heard this argument before, and knows exactly what to say next. “Your response is clever, however, it doesn’t take into account the fact that lunar eclipses happen far more often than solar ones. That’s an imbalance, and certainly that can’t be the right lesson for the masses to learn. Furthermore, why are total solar eclipses so short and so rare. That doesn’t seem balanced at all. So then, how does your theory stand against that evidence.”


The gnome tries to speak up, but one of the moon priests forcefully steps into the conversation, “A total eclipse is a message of doom not balance, it shows the displeasure of the two at mortal sin.” Another priest hears this and starts correcting him, “No, no, no. A partial eclipse shows judgment due to its incompleteness. A total ecl-“, before he’s cut off by a noble who’s eager to show off his literacy, “Well Cantionus said that eclipses are really…”. Soon the whole room is embroiled in the argument, and countless theories, quotes, and opinions are launched and rebuffed. No one is willing to cede any rhetorical ground. Alfred and Shayala quietly move upstairs as the old church numpties fall into the tar pit of debate. Now Alfred can work on breaking the enchantments of the tower without issue.

wizened scholar v TN 5 - (3d6)[5][5][4](14)

[Tibbius]

Thus Adrian and Herlinde find themselves surrounded by gesticulating priests and nobles eruditely and ineptly arguing points of religious doctrine. Unobserved, they examine their environment.

Rails surround the thirty-foot wide central opening through which the stairs descend to ground. The rails are translucent, softly white glowing, and float without evident support. They open only at the head of the stairs, and there are four of them stacked to shoulder height with about a foot between each rail and the next.

There are seven openings in the ceiling at the outer wall, evenly spaced apart, and each opening glowing faintly brighter than the rest of the room. Alfred and Shayala have proceeded unobserved to the stairs that lead up to one of those openings, and they are ascending quietly.

Adrian can hear the sound of trumpets blaring faintly from the plaza far below. It is hard to see down there in the twilight, looking as he is from a fairly bright lit room. But he and Herlinde hear: "The King! The King!"

[JbeJ275]

Steel yourself now, we will likely have little time between the wards collapsing and the guards once more being at his side. That will be our only choice to end this without innocent blood.

With that said, Adrian descends the stairs, once again taking the expression of a simple man at court.