[WFRP] The Bloody Crown XIII

[LCP]

Elsa, 11th Vorhexen

"My apprentice is eager to help your people in any way she can," she said cautiously. "But she has no interest in helping enforce your rule, especially given... what she's been through. If this changes things regarding her status, please give me until the end of the month to find her new living arrangements in the city."

Sforza looked at Elsa as if she were speaking Gospodar. “You’ve lost me, Holt,” he said, after a considered silence. “She doesn’t want to work for me? Then why has my court wizard been devoting so much time to her tuition?”

---

14th Vorhexen

Elsa

"Have you complained to them about the horse yet?" inquired Elsa. "Because if you have, I'll be able to buy it off them for cheap. It'll still reside here, of course, but I'll be paying for the upkeep."

The stablemaster furrowed his brow at Elsa. “I don’t see how that’d change anything, really,” he said. “Besides, like I said, his lord and ladyship don’t want rid of it. Otherwise it’d already be gone.”

Jarla

Musicians didn’t thrive in hungry times, and Jarla’s search for entertainers involved a lot of cold and weary legwork for what felt like little reward. More than that, her fine clothes and striking features made her stand out a little too much among the lean and dirty people who crowded the streets of Savonne. Wherever she went, she felt the uncomfortable sensation of others’ eyes on her.

In the seedy taverns of the Warren and the winding streets of the Old Town, she followed the drone of pipes and the buzz of the hurdy-gurdy to those places where people were still making music. Most of the musicians looked quite unsuitable for Sforza’s court - in the first establishment Jarla visited, they were providing accompaniment for a man putting ferrets down his trousers - but at a place called the Red Moon on the north side of the city, she found someone who better fitted her idea of who she was looking for.

Financially, it looked as if he had known better days. The lustre of his gaudy blue doublet had faded around the edges, and the half-cape over his shoulder was beginning to look a little frayed. Still, he was clearly someone who took care of his appearance. His hair was a carefully-coiffed mane of black curls, running down to his shoulders, and his beard and moustaches were waxed to fine points. He was nursing a small cup of wine, and a battered-looking mandolin sat at his feet, leaning against his chair. He seemed to think it the most natural thing in the world that Jarla should approach him.

“Please, mademoiselle, it is no trouble. An artist is nothing without his audience, non? Now, where is it you would like my autograph?”

He seemed more than a little put out to learn that Jarla not only didn’t want his autograph, but didn’t even know who he was. “Parbleu! You mean to tell me you have not heard the name of Jacques Langue d’Or?” He downed the rest of his wine in one gulp and slammed the cup down on the table. “Death of my life! That the Tristran of Savonne could fall so far!”

He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. “Pardonnez-moi, ma’moiselle. I have had a… run of misfortune lately. Beginning with an… I will not offend your ears with what I would like to call him… beginning with an unwashed bumpkin who tricked me out of my lute, and continuing through these wars and... other troubles, fate has reduced me to the man you before you now, playing second-hand tunes on second-hand strings.” He gave the battered mandolin a rather forceful nudge with his boot, making the strings vibrate. “It was not long ago, in the reign of the elf, that my name was the toast of this city. But ah! People have no appreciation for music any more...”

OOC:

Spoiler

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SEVEN YEARS HE’S BEEN WAITING

---

25th Vorhexen

Elsa

Olga was evidently curious about what was going on outside, and drew the mystery satchel a little nearer to hand. Still, she wasn’t going to crack before her prospective employer.

“As long as it’s warm and indoors, I’m not picky,” she said, nodding. “Sounds like what you’re looking is fairly full-time, though. Maglyn said you were offering four crowns a month. For that kind of protection, I think I’m worth more like six.”

OOC:

Spoiler

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Olga’s going to go for an untrained Haggle vs. 14: (1d100)[12]
Can I get an opposed roll from Elsa?

Sieghard & Urgrim

The mob seemed wholly unconcerned with Urgrim - he wasn’t wearing livery, and he wasn’t carrying food. With his broad shoulders and low centre of gravity, he pushed his way easily through the crowd and into the bakery. Here the clamour of voices was almost deafening, and the air was dusty with flying flour as the baker’s stores were ransacked.

The baker himself was slumped in the corner, dazed and bloody-faced. A board bearing the day’s prices had been broken over his head. With great concentration, Urgrim squinted at the umgi runes, spelling out:

BREDDE LOAF - 10p
PYES - 8p EACH

The baker himself was a heavy-set man, with grey-brown whiskers framing the sides of his face. Though he had taken quite a blow, no-one seemed set on doing him any further harm - they were happy to leave him there, mumbling in a concussed sort of way, while they set about pillaging his shop.

Outside, the excitement didn’t seem to be dying down - if anything, quite the opposite. Sieghard watched as the man on the cart dispensed the last of his gifts and raised his voice above the noise. His voice was thin and reedy, and it took some time for him to make himself heard - but people wanted to listen.

“When the Tilean crowned himself prince, they promised us peace!” he was shouting. “Is this peace? When bread is as dear as it was during the siege? When merchants and millers are filling their pockets off us starving in the streets?” He looked around. “If that’s peace, I say give me back the wars!”

“They burned our farm!” called out a young woman in the crowd, through a mouthful of stolen bread. “How am I supposed to feed my children now?”

“They burned my house!” called a bedraggled beggar with a beard that reached down to his waist. “Them and their fire witch!”

“The rich have always looked out for themselves first,” shouted the speaker on the cart, his short white beard wagging as he spoke. “The only difference is, this year there’s not enough for anyone else! Now we’re seeing just how much they’re willing to give for their fellow man!”

Under the empty plinth, more of Norten’s men were assembling. Sieghard thought he saw the white plume of Norten’s helmet, as the newly-minted commander of the guard engaged in a hushed but angry conversation with the squad who had let the situation develop.

“This right here is what they don’t want you to realise!” the man on the cart continued to proclaim. “That we are the many, and they are the few. Don’t we deserve to eat just as much as them?”

A resounding chorus of ayes and yeas rose from the crowd.

“Don’t we deserve to live just as much as them?”

The chorus came again, louder.

“Then it’s high time we got up off our knees and told ‘em, we’re not going to take it any more!” He raised both hands above his head. “No more begging for scraps! Take what you need!”

OOC:

Spoiler

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Pausing here to see if Sieghard wants to intervene. Elsa can also hear the escalating crowd noises from inside the Duke of Aquitaine.

[Thragka]

Urgrim – Savonne, Festag 25th Vorhexen

"Grungni's beard," Urgrim muttered when he read the prices. Nonetheless, he counted it a small blessing that the scene inside the shop wasn't any more violent or chaotic. He set himself directly in front of the injured man, and reached out to gently examine his head, searching for the source of the blood.

"Herr Baker," he said, repeating it until he was sure he had the man's attention. "You've been injured on your head. Can you tell me what day it is?"

"Can you stand up? We're going to go outside."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

A Heal check to provide first aid: Heal 54 - (1d100)[71]

[-Sentinel-]

11th Vorhexen


"You've lost me, Holt. She doesn't want to work for me? Then why has my court wizard been devoting so much time to her tuition?"

Elsa had to think carefully about how to phrase her answer. "I took her under my wing because an untrained wizard isn't something you want running around in your princedom. She was an unknown quantity then; now I know her better. She's not soldier material, and she has no personal loyalty to you, but she can still do good things for your people. In fact that's all she asks."

"Now... if your concern is only that I'm misusing my well-paid time, it's a simple matter—I can pay you back some of my last few months' wages," she offered. "I have my own streams of income now."

---

(will deal with the horse thing later; my wheels are spinning in the mud right now)

---

25th Vorhexen


"As long as it's warm and indoors, I'm not picky. Sounds like what you're looking is fairly full-time, though. Maglyn said you were offering four crowns a month. For that kind of protection, I think I'm worth more like six."

"Hmm, my offer of four is already quite high for a starting wage in that line of work," Elsa noted. "Especially considering you won't be paying rent."

Spoiler

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Haggle 22: (d100)[85]

lol no

"...Alright," she said, noticing Olga's thoroughly unconvinced expression, "six it is. But I'll make you earn it, because I could easily hire two people for that wage."

The raised voices outside did not seem to be dying down. Elsa heaved a sigh and rose from her seat.

"Please pardon me, I have to see if I'm needed. You can come with if you want, as long as you don't crack any skulls unless I tell you to."

Arriving in front of the bakery, she quickly took in the situation and spotted Sieghard and his Thorns standing on the sidelines. She made a beeline towards Sieghard.

"What's the plan?" she asked him. "Do you need my help to disperse this crowd?"

[RossN]

Jarla - 14th Vorhexen

Jarla looked at the troubadour in open astonishment and with a heroic effort she managed to keep herself from laughing. Tilting her head sympathetically the auburn haired noble smiled. "Such a tale of woe! Well I believe good sir, my maid and I should like to hear a little more."

She sat down, carefully arranging her skirts and looked at the musician in expectation. He was probably a scoundrel, but then so was she and Ranald knew she had a soft spot for her own kind.

OOC:

Spoiler

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Hah! Well you never can tell who we'll see again

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard gave Elsa a funny look. "If you've got an idea, I'm listening," he replied. "I didn't bring enough men to break up the crowd and as it is, I'm having trouble thinking of anything that'd wouldn't just make things worse." He glanced over to where Norten was berating his men. "Might not be too late to stop him from doing something foolish, though."

[LCP]

Elsa, 11th Vorhexen

"Only your time?" said Sforza, softly. "And what about the Iron Company men who died on her account? How simple a matter is that?" He turned to face Elsa square-on. "Do you think she would have been treated so leniently as your... what, private client?"

"You work for me, Holt. The people who work for you, work for me. If the girl wishes to leave my service, she can come and tell me herself. I'd like to hear where it is she thinks she can find better employment."

---

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

Jacques was happy to continue at length, switching between accounts of the grand audiences he had played for and the sorry state of culture in the Reaches at present. He made frequent references to Tristran le Troubadour, who seemed to be his personal idol, and to the villain who had stolen his lute, whose name he refused to dignify by uttering it. Though he clearly wasn't a man to tire of the sound of his own voice, at last he seemed to sense he'd been talking long enough.

"But, forgive me, ma'moiselle," he said. "You have not told me your name. Or why a lady of such distinction should be coming to such a shabby place as this." The Red Moon didn't look too shabby to Jarla's eye - certainly not in comparison to some of the taverns she had visited in the more westerly districts, on on the road south from Grenzstadt. Clearly Jacques saw himself at a nadir of his life, and therefore his surroundings must be at their nadir also. "You said you did not want an autograph?"

---

Elsa, Sieghard & Urgrim, 25th Vorhexen

"Whuh? Who... Festag, 's Festag," slurred the baker. "My shop... bloody savages! Idiots! Savages!" He couldn't seem to think of other words; Urgrim helped heave him to his feet before he could raise his voice too loudly. The press of people was too great to go back out the front door against the current; instead, Urgrim headed for a side door behind the counter, where they could make a more discreet exit.

Out in the market square, Olga had followed Elsa over to Sieghard, with her clanking bag slung over her shoulder. She gave him an appraising look, but said nothing. The mob, meanwhile, had almost exhausted the stores of food to be had in the bakery. A large number were now headed over towards the Duke of Aquitaine, carrying the white-bearded man along with them, while smaller, more opportunistic groups branched off towards other shops and stalls. Norten seemed to decide that enough was enough.

"Stop right there!" he shouted, as he and his guards came hurrying up. They were heavily outnumbered, but equally heavily armed; the heads of their halberds gleamed in the wintry sunlight. "Stop in the name of the crown!" One thing he'd learned from his old sergeant was a good stentorian bark. The mob slowed to a halt as it found itself confronted by the thin line of soldiers.

"I am declarin' this here to be a riotous assembly!" shouted Norten. Sieghard was pretty sure the man couldn't read, let alone know any books of law, but it sounded legal. That was the main thing. "In the name of Prince Sforza, I am ordering you to surrender your weapons, and disperse!"

"We don't have any weapons!" shouted someone in the crowd, to scattered but nervous laughter. Norten scowled.

"What are you going to do if we say no?" demanded the white-bearded man, taking a step forwards. Others stepped forward with him. "Are you going to kill a man for taking the bread he needs to survive?"

Norten set his jaw, his mouth a tight, furious line. "You can all go home," he shouted, "and nobody needs to get hurt. Anyone takes so much as another crumb, that's robbery, and as robbers is how you'll be dealt with."

"Taking food out of the mouths of the starving, that's robbery!" yelled white-beard, and the chorus of agreement that followed was loud. "It's alright for you, eating swan's tongues in the castle!" cried a voice from the back. "Shame on you!" cried another. "We've got children to feed!"

"No-one's eatin' any swans - " began Norten, but the situation was spiralling too fast for him to finish his sentence. Crowds of onlookers were forming around the confrontation, beyond the core of the mob itself. As he glanced over his shoulder to check their numbers, someone in the back picked up a handful of horse dung from where it lay on the ground and hurled it at him. It was a good throw, and the dung splattered wetly against his shiny breastplate. Immediately, the soldiers' halberds swung down, presenting a gleaming line of points towards the mob. They looked desperately on edge.

"That's it then, is it?" called the man with the white beard. "Starve to death or we'll stab you to death. Some choice that is." He held up his hands to show he was unarmed. "We're taking what we need! You can let us pass or cut us down, it's all the same to us!"

He took another step forward, and a halberdier, acting on instinct or sheer nerves, stabbed him through the leg. As he crumpled to the ground, blood gushing over his thigh, cries of outrage rose from the crowd. Friendly hands grabbed the injured man to drag him back, while others began pelting the soldiers with whatever detritus they had to hand. A shard of roof tile glanced off the helmet of the halberdier who had struck the blow, sending him reeling.

"RIGHT!" shouted Norten, under the sudden blizzard of insults and missiles. "Weapons forward! ADVANCE!"

[RossN]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

"Ah... forgive my manners Monsieur. I am Lady Schreiber, lady-in-waiting to La Principessa Irene," Jarla said as she extended a graceful hand. "As it happens I have been searching for entertainers in this city for future employment with the royal household."

She raised a copper red eyebrow, her mouth quirking in amusement. She rather liked this Jacques. "If you would please give me an example of your playing and singing Monsieur?"

[LCP]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

Jacques bent to kiss Jarla's hand. "Ah! I have heard many stories of your lady's beauty and grace," he said. "Of course such a refined creature could only have come from her court. And of course, a true artist cannot resist such a request." Picking up the mandolin, he turned it over sadly in his hands. "I hope you will not think less of me for this cheap thing on which I play," he said. "In my present circumstances it is all I can afford."

Strumming the first chord, he hummed to himself to find the key. When he was satisfied, he struck up the tune - a slow, mournful melody, letting his voice do most of the work while the strings of his instrument kept up a soft background rhythm. Jarla's command of Bretonnian was not strong enough to understand what he was singing about, but she could see he had talent - the impromptu performance even brought a few of the Red Moon's other patrons wandering over to listen. Sitting on the stool beside her, Ida looked spellbound.

"That is more or less what I suppose you might call my, ah, style," he said, setting down the mandolin again. "At least for my solo repertoire. I'm afraid most of my former accompanists have found it more profitable to switch to more, how would you say... lowbrow music." He hesitated, perhaps realising that it might be best not to assume too much about what Jarla was looking for. "But of course, I am familiar with other traditions too."

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa watched the situation escalate with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She moved towards Norten, already channelling the Red Wind in case she needed to come to his aid against the angry mob, but it seemed the fool was determined to fill the gutters with blood. When he gave his men the order to advance, she almost unthinkingly began casting.

Spoiler

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Channeling: (d100)[67]
Curtain of Flame with +2 spell ingredient: (3d10)[8][4][6](18)

A wall of fire rose across the street, only a couple of yards in front of Norten's halberdiers.

Elsa's voice cracked like a whip: "STAND DOWN! NOBODY DIES FOR A LOAF OF BREAD!"

[LCP]

Sieghard, Urgrim & Elsa, 25th Vorhexen

All eyes turned to Elsa as the wall of flame roared into being, the two sides recoiling from its fierce heat.

“It’s the fire witch!” came a shout from the crowd.
“She’s here to burn us up!” yelled the long-bearded beggar who had cursed her name before.
“GET HER!” came the roar from several quarters.

OOC:

Spoiler

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You have an angry mob + the guards ~12 yards in front of you and a crowd of onlookers in all directions who may not be huge fans of Elsa either. Initiative:

Sieghard - (1d10+47)[51]
Elsa - (1d10+44)[52]
Urgrim - (1d10+36)[46]
Olga - (1d10+37)[42]
Guards - (1d10+39)[47]
AngryMob - (1d10+31)[38]

I’m assuming here that Sieghard was wearing his full armour for the journey - correct me if I’m wrong there.

Urgrim’s initiative is included but he is off in a side street with Herr Baker, about 30 yards from Elsa’s position with the centre of the mob between them. He is not currently being attacked.

@Sentinel no response to Sforza on the 11th?

[-Sentinel-]

"You work for me, Holt. The people who work for you, work for me. If the girl wishes to leave my service, she can come and tell me herself. I'd like to hear where it is she thinks she can find better employment."

"I'll talk to her and see if she's willing to enter into a contract with you," said Elsa, though her tone conveyed heavy skepticism. "And what if she's not? What shall I do with her?"

---

Elsa winced, but when the cries of 'Get her!' started, her concern about the escalating situation turned to anger. Did they not see what she was trying to do?

"Alright! Alright! No more fire!"

She raised her gloved hand and flicked her wrist, more for dramatic effect than anything else, and the wall of fire went out as quickly as it had appeared. There was now nothing preventing Norten's men from charging into the mob and butchering them to their hearts' pleasure.

She quickly met Olga's eyes and made a gesture which she hoped adequately conveyed 'Stand down for now'.

Spoiler

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No actions this turn, except a Channeling just in case ((d100)[54]) and perhaps a half move if Elsa happens to be in a dangerous spot.

[Thragka]

Urgrim – Festag, 25th Vorhexen

Urgrim let the baker lean on his shoulders in a rather undignified way as he helped the man out into the side alley. "I'm sure the damages can be fixed, and the losses accounted, tomorrow, Herr Baker," he said on the way out. "Might be best to have a quiet rest of your day, today, though, eh?"

Urgrim was pausing to assess how confused the man still seemed as the sounds of the rising tension in the main square rang out. His heart sank when he recognised Elsa's voice. "Oh hells," he muttered. "How're you doing, Herr Baker?"

[RossN]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

Jarla actually blushed at Jacques's compliments. Well he was rather dishy and she did have a weakness for beards and moustaches...

At the conclusion of his playing she took her feet, applauding and smiling. "Bravo Jacques, bravo! I believe I may have a position for you at the next celebration. Do you by chance know any Tilean airs? Or any dances?"

She resolved to check the accounts to see if there was any money for a court musician. Though judging by the state of his current attire she suspected any wages might mark an improvement.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Get away from here," Sieghard hissed to the Thorns who had accompanied him. He glanced towards Elsa and Olga as if to say all of you.

"What do you reckon that lot you just turned your backs to will do if you tried it!?" Sieghard shouted, putting himself between the crowd and the others "It'd get real ugly real fast!" He hadn't drawn his sword, but his hand was hovering near the hilt. He didn't want to use it, but he would if he had to. "You got your bread, clear out and go home before it comes to that!"

Spoiler

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Part of me is afraid that it might be too late for this, but remember the halberdiers, guys? The ones who just stabbed a guy? The ones you just turned your backs to because you were mad at Elsa

(1d100)[41] vs 71 intimidate
(1d100)[67] reroll

[LCP]

Elsa, 11th Vorhexen

"I'm not offering her a contract until I see what she can do," said Sforza. "Which brings us back to the subject of a demonstration. You remember how you yourself joined our company."

"When she's ready, bring her to me," he said. "You're not her mother, she can speak for herself. And if she decides that serving the crown is not to her liking... well," he said, "then she and I can discuss the matter of her debt."

---

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

"But of course," said Jacques. "What kind of troubadour would not know how to play a dance?" He gave a rakish smile. "I know how to dance them as well."

---

Elsa, Urgrim & Sieghard, 25th Vorhexen

Sieghard's warning kept the unfriendly lookers-on at bay, but the blood of the mob was up. They pushed forward, and Norten's men backed up, still presenting a wall of halberds to keep the crowd at bay. Olga grabbed Elsa by the arm and pulled her down as improvised missiles came showering down on them, all aimed at the wizard. A clod of dung splattered against Elsa's shoulder, while half a broken cobblestone bounced off her newfound bodyguard's back.

"What in blazes are you playin' at, woman?" hissed Norten as he stepped back towards them. "We was handlin' it." He looked to Sieghard. "Get her back to the keep!"

A piece of wood from a broken-up crate bounced off his helmet. "RIGHT!" he roared, turning back to the crowd. "Next man who throws something is bein' brought before the Prince! Go on! Try me!"

The rain of missiles did not let up.

~

On the other side of the mob, the baker too was beginning to recognise the seriousness of the situation. His face went pale when the flames of Elsa's spell briefly lit the square - fortunately they in front of the Duke rather than his bakery.

"I'm, uh, I'm doing well enough, thank you, Herr... dwarf," he said, rubbing his bleeding scalp. He was still leaning on Urgrim with most of his weight. "Looks like... maybe we should be heading somewhere safe."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

Sieghard stared at Norten for a moment, not caring to be told what to do even if it was a good idea. "No blades," he advised. "The prince won't thank you for spilling his peoples' blood. Unless they start doing worse, the hafts will be enough."

Not wanting to be a part of what came next, he turned towards the keep.

[RossN]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

Jarla laughed lightly and favoured Jacques with a smile. "Well, that is good to know. As it happens I am a wonderful dancer. We shall have to discuss matters again very soon."

She turned to leave but then changed her mind, tilting her head back at the minstrel. "You know I believe I shall have an autograph monsieur."

Spoiler: OOC:

Show

Jarla will go back over the accounts and check with Mouna to see if they can afford to keep a minstrel on the pay roll - I think she rather fancies herself a patron of the arts.

---

Jarla, 25th Vorhexen

Jarla had been taking a stroll along the curtain wall when her eyes and ears had been caught by the growing turmoil in the Market. After watching in growing horror for a moment she turned towards the keep, Ida in tow.

"Sweet Ranald this is bad," she muttered to herself. "We need someone to calm the crowd," She stopped abruptly and looked at her maid. "Ida you are a local girl, who do you think the mob would listen to? The priests? The sisters from the hospital?"

[-Sentinel-]

"And if she decides that serving the crown is not to her liking... well, then she and I can discuss the matter of her debt."

That sounded ominous, especially since Sforza had already made it clear that it was not only a matter of money, but Elsa gave a stiff nod. "Alright. I'll make her practice some spells that look impressive. But be warned, for one thing, that she's got only months of training, while I had years of it when we first met; and for another, that her lore of magic is less suited to violence than mine is. Which, of course, doesn't make it any less useful, if you'll let Tatiana play to her strengths."

She saluted and took her leave.

---

For the next couple of weeks, Elsa took Tatiana into the castle courtyard every day and, while watching her closely, encouraged her to push her boundaries when it came to spellcasting. Clearly the time for caution was behind them; if Tattie failed to impress on the New Year, her very existence would be in danger. Elsa did not have the heart to tell the girl that she would soon be put to the test, but she emphasized the importance of Hexensnacht.

"The Winds are especially strong when both moons are full. Anything you attempt today and almost succeed at, will seem almost easy on Hexensnacht. So keep attempting things. You might even succeed before Hexensnacht. Many Amber wizards can turn into animals... Do you think you can transform? Into a pigeon, perhaps? Or a squirrel?"

Or at least, into something that's hard to catch... just in case...

Spoiler

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No need to roleplay a conversation. This is just to show the general direction that Elsa's teaching is taking.

---

25th Vorhexen


"What in blazes are you playin' at, woman?" hissed Norten as he stepped back towards them. "We was handlin' it." He looked to Sieghard. "Get her back to the keep!"

Elsa glared back at Norten. "I know where the keep is. Seems to me like you're the one who needs Commander Sieghard's help."

Muttering under her breath, she moved away from the tumult, trying to wipe the dung from her coat but only spreading it around more.

"Thank you for your quick action, Olga," she said with a glance at her new bodyguard. "See... this is why I need protection. Even when I try to prevent bloodshed, I'm only the witch, as far as those people are concerned."

[Thragka]

Urgrim – Festag, 25th Vorhexen

"I'm called Jotunnsson," Urgrim said to the baker.

"If you don't mind my saying, you might want a healer to take a look at your head. A wound like that can be a nasty thing." Urgrim was trying to slough off the gazes he felt from passersby, and ignore the feeling that he looked like a gross insult to his people, with the huge umgi using him as a crutch. Under the circumstances, shouldn't they have more interesting things to gawp at? "We'll go to the hospital," he said, half assertion and half suggestion.

[LCP]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

“Avec plaisir,” said Jacques. “What is it you would like me to sign?”

Back at the keep, Mouna simply shrugged at Jarla’s questions. “Usually when the masters want musicians, they hire them in just for the day,” she said. “You should speak to Herr Al-Makir. He’s been handling that kind of thing.”

Al-Makir received Jarla with his usual courtesy, and listened attentively to her suggestion. “I must say,” he said, “it’s hard to see such a thing as a necessary expense, no? How much are we talking?”

OOC:

Spoiler

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Abdul needs a bit of persuading - pick your approach and give me a skill test to match.

---

25th Vorhexen

Jarla

“Um, I - uh, I don’t know,” said Ida, looking quite shaken herself. She was only young. “I mean, everyone likes the Shallyans…”

Before she could elaborate further on that thought, they were interrupted by some loud Tilean shouting. Emerging from the crumbling crusader barracks hall came a detachment of around thirty Iron Company men, armed and armoured. They were marching at double time for the gate.

Elsa & Sieghard

“If this is what every day is like with you I’m thinking I should have asked for more than six crowns!” said Olga, ducking a stone that came whistling over her head. “You didn’t half draw attention to yourself. Come on, go!”

As the three of them began to retreat towards the castle, the crowd pressed in after them, still pelting them with whatever they had to hand. Norten’s men shifted their line to prevent the mob from rushing Elsa as she retreated - but this meant they were less able to protect the inn. Somewhere around the back of the Duke came the sound of breaking glass, and Norten’s futile roars for order were lost in the shouting chaos that followed. Someone rushed or was pushed against the wall of halberds, and Elsa heard screams joining the shouts behind them as the standoff erupted into bloody struggle.

Across the square, the gates to the castle were opening. The harsh rattle of drums rose over the rooftops as Iron Company men began to march out, armour gleaming. Those onlookers who had just been hanging around to gawk rapidly began clearing out, allowing Sieghard and the others to make better time towards the gates, but the main mob seemed undeterred. Fired by hunger and anger, those who were not struggling with Norten’s men were running this way and that, trying to loot as much as they could before the Tileans arrived. There were far too many of them for Norten’s embattled squad to catch.

OOC:

Spoiler

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You guys can be clear of combat time now if you want - up to you whether you want to join the Iron Company reinforcements rushing to the scene or just remove yourselves back behind the castle walls.

Urgrim

No-one stopped Urgrim and the baker as they hurried away from the riot. Keeping to the side-streets, they headed west around the edge of the market square, the sounds of chaos spreading behind them. At last, they were able to outpace the spreading anarchy - heading through streets that were yet to hear of what had happened, Urgrim delivered the bleeding beggar to the steps of the Great Hospital. A Shallyan novice came out to receive him - the umgi girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen.

“What happened?” she asked Urgrim, while the baker slumped down on the steps, groaning again about savages and idiots. “Has there been a fight?”

[Thragka]

Urgrim – Festag, 25th Vorhexen

"There's a bread riot kicking off in the North Market," Urgrim told the novice. "Started in this poor fellow's shop – but by the sounds of it, it was getting a lot bigger. The guards already cut a few folk down and that didn't stop them. You and your sisters are going to have a busy day."

[-Sentinel-]

"If this is what every day is like with you I'm thinking I should have asked for more than six crowns!"

"First time that happens," grunted Elsa, as they hurried through the keep's gates. "And you know I wouldn't be looking for a bodyguard in the first place if I were the Prince's deputy head accountant."

Though she tried not to show it, she was quite shaken by the whole thing. Her life was almost entirely dependent on her position, and any future regime change, peaceful or not, would require her to end up on the side of the winner. If she ever lost her protection, she had better leave the city quickly and discreetly and move very far away.

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"Taal's teeth, it's gonna be a bloodbath." Sieghard muttered. He wasn't so naive to think the mob could be stopped without force, but he had held out hope that it could be done with broken bones instead of people dying. As it was, he was just relieved to not be a part of it.

"Everyone ok?" he asked once they had reached the safety of the keep.

[-Sentinel-]

"I'm fine," said Elsa. "Welcome back, by the way."

It's good to be home, isn't it?

She gestured in the direction of the raised voices outside the gates. "This was bloody predictable. We knew three months ago this was coming. At this rate, the people will be eating rats by the end of Nachexen, and their boots by Jahrdrung. Come the Mitterfruhl feast, they'll be eating us."

[LCP]

25th Vorhexen

Elsa & Sieghard

"Eating rats isn't exactly new in this town," said Olga, brushing the dirt off her jerkin. "Back in the siege that was practically a delicacy."

Out in the square, the sounds of the riot were changing as the Iron Company made their presence felt, scattering the rioters like jackals before lions. More Tileans were emerging from the barracks-house, forming up around the open gates - but there was no sign of the Prince.

OOC:

Spoiler

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Up to you guys where you want to head next.

Urgrim

"I'll tell the sisters," said the novice, earnestly. "Thank you!"

Getting the baker back to his feet, she hurried him inside, leaving Urgrim standing in the street.

[-Sentinel-]

"I'll go change," said Elsa, looking down in disgust at the dung on her coat. "The Prince will no doubt call an emergency meeting."

She turned to Olga: "Now... obviously neither of us was planning for you to start your new job so soon. You're free to go if you had other commitments, but given the situation, I'd much prefer if you stayed. I'll see if I can get you temporary accommodations. Olga, this is Commander Sieghard. Sieghard, this is Olga, I just hired her as bodyguard."

[RossN]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

After getting a tasteful autograph on one of her handkerchiefs from Jacques Jarla had returned to the keep. A little later she found herself speaking with Al-Makir.

"Indeed it probably isn't a necessary expense," Jarla told the treasurer, then smiled and added: "But I think it is a wise one. You and I both know the Reaches are not exactly Nuln. There is precious little keeping any entertainers here save royal patronage and I'm not sure I want to oversee the next banquet or birthday and have to tell Irene Sforza that the best available was the gentleman with the trained ferrets because the only decent musician had left for greener pastures."

She laughed lightly and added: "Besides, this is no longer a travelling mercenary band. This is a royal court and certain standards must be upheld. I imagine keeping a minstrel around would be cheaper than building still more statues no?"

OOC:

Spoiler

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Charm: (1d100)[14] vs. 64
FP re-roll (if needed): Charm: (1d100)[42] vs. 64

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25th Vorhexen

"Too late..." Jarla said, wincing as she observed the Iron Company soldiers go by. After a moment's hesitation she turned to Ida and said: "I suspect the Prince will summon everyone soon enough. This is going to be difficult..."

[LCP]

Jarla, 14th Vorhexen

Abdul sighed at Jarla’s mention of the statue. “Believe me, if I could exchange them, I would.” he said. “Sometimes I think I miss being a travelling mercenary. Still, what the Sforzas want, they must have.”

“If this is to keep the principessa happy, I would suggest you get her blessing for the idea first. Otherwise if the principe decides he does not like your minstrel, the blame will fall on us. Or, well, mostly you.” Al-Makir gave one of his toothy smiles. “But I think the money can be found.”

---

Elsa, Sieghard & Jarla, 25th Vorhexen

“Pleasure to meet you, commander,” said Olga, throwing Sieghard a mock salute and a crooked smile. “This is turning out to be an eventful day.”

While Elsa was changing her clothes, Sieghard and Olga climbed the wall to get a better view of what was happening in the square. They found Jarla and Ida up at the parapet already, along with a handful of other onlookers from the castle who had been drawn by the commotion.

Once they had joined forces with Norten’s men, it hadn’t taken long for the Iron Company to put the rioters to flight. Their avenues of escape had been limited, hemmed in by the press of bodies around the buildings behind them. Jarla could see more than a few motionless human figures sprawled in the dirt behind the soldiers. A woman was kneeling next to one of them, wailing as she clutched the limp body in her arms.

A few determined members of the mob had tried to occupy the Duke of Aquitaine, and were now being dragged out by the soldiers, bloodied and bruised. These troublemakers would not be being sent home - the Tileans handed them over to Norten’s men to be frogmarched back to the keep.

More soldiers were forming up in the courtyard - from a quick head-count, Sieghard estimated the whole strength of the Iron Company in Savonne was being called up. At last, the Prince emerged into the daylight, with Barbaro and an Iron Company sergeant trailing behind him like remoras after a shark. He had a short, sharp exchange of words with Norten as the commander of the guards returned to the castle; by the end of it, Norten seemed to have shrunk to half his usual size. Bowing and scraping, he scuttled off to secure the prisoners.

When Elsa re-emerged, Sforza caught sight of her immediately. “Holt!” he called out, waving her over. “I heard you were out there. You’re not hurt?”

[-Sentinel-]

Elsa relaxed a bit; if Sforza's first concern was her condition, it seemed he was not about to blame her. She straightened and walked towards her employer.

"More fear than harm, sire," she said with a quick nod. "For me, at least."

Her expression was grim. "I think it's safe to say that the food situation calls for a council meeting. This is the first riot but it won't be the last."

[TheSummoner]

Sieghard

"This was bloody predictable. We knew three months ago this was coming. At this rate, the people will be eating rats by the end of Nachexen, and their boots by Jahrdrung. Come the Mitterfruhl feast, they'll be eating us."

"Wouldn't be the first time we've warned about something we saw coming." Sieghard grumbled. "Why would they start listening to us now?"

“Pleasure to meet you, commander. This is turning out to be an eventful day.”

"Eventful describes it, I suppose," he replied. The girl didn't have the look of a bodyguard, but she had acted quickly enough when the stones had started flying. Still, he wondered how well she could handle herself if a fight couldn't be avoided.