The Crownguard Resistance In the early morning of the 18th of April 303 AC, the plan of the Crownguard to seize control over part of the city unleashes itself. The Crownguard is a group of resistance fighters of various races, ages and social standing. Having secret support from some of the nobility, they start inciting riots in the bridge district following the hike in bread prices and the increasing hunger in the district as the Qadir seize the food supplies. Few Qadir are present in the bridge district to initially stop the riots as the they make their ways to the gates and the walls. Eventually the orders are issued to make barriers, where the first problems start showing in organization. There are no Qadir or pro-Qadir citizens living in the bridge district and few citizens give up their furniture, causing the riots to resort to taking furniture from people against their will. The barricades are constructed and the district is successfully blocked off from the outside, the Qadir choosing not to fight the riots and pulling back to the bridge. Several hours pass as the rioters believe they have successfully secured the district and cut the Qadir off from the western part of the city. Moments later however, Qadir warships sail into the Crown River towards the bridge and detachments of Qadir march down the bridge to the barricades on the other side. As they reach the barricades they stop, the rioters hurling stones and various tools at them lacking conventional weapons. The leadership of the riot believes the Qadir to be too numerous, and as according to plan, they set the wet burnables alight underneath the barricades, causing them to be set alight. This however turned against the rioters as the Qadir fire mages stepped forward. Upon the order given by the Qadir commander, the Qadir fire mages used the already burning barricades as a source of fire, burning the blazes up higher and hotter and then directing them inwards towards the bridge district. The dozens of fire mages cooperating their magic together turn the burning barricades in surging fireplaces coursing the fire through the streets behind it. Those unfortunate enough to be within two streets distance of the fire barricades are incinerated almost instantly, the fire igniting the houses around it and funneling through them. Hundreds of citizens both rioters and regular citizens who were hiding in their homes instantly get burned alive. Those lucky enough to be further away have their hair singed or their skin burned, some managed to escape by diving into the sewers, others hid in whatever source of water they could find. The fires raged higher and higher than anything ever seen in Regalia, soon the entire district was ablaze and people were screaming and fleeing in terror in all directions. The barricades at the western part of the district prevented people from getting out initially, dozens of people falling over and getting trampled to death as the bodies piled up against the barricades. Then finally when the piles were large enough, people were able to rush through, climbing over the corpses of fellow citizens. The fire in the eastern part of the city further confused the western part as smoke filled the sky black in the middle of the day. Qadir in the other parts of the cities unaffected by the fire hastily packed their belongings and made their way to the harbor where large parts of the blockade fleet were evacuating the Qadir from the east. Citizens had already started tearing down the Qadir flags in the central district, the soldiers moved out and retreated to the palatial district. The fire in the Bridge district had effectively shut off the Qadir held Imperial districts from the rest of the city, by all means the western part of the city was free of Qadir occupation. The fire of the Bridge district continued to rage for days afterwards, the Crown river filled with the floating charred remains of citizens, an occasional explosion in the district providing a chilling alternative to the constant and never ending crackling of wood burning. The outsides of the walls were charred black from the fires. The Qadir had formally retreated to the Imperial districts and were no longer in control of nearly 70% of the city. The fleet had bombarded the bridge connecting the west and east parts of the city, severing the Palace and the richer districts. Thousands of Regalians died those days, many incinerated in the initial fires, many more over the next days as the clinics and healing houses were filled to bursting, people dying from smoke inhalation and burns on the staircases towards the clinics. Half burned bodies littered the street between the east gate and the clinic, eventually the building failed to function as it had fully ran out of poppy milk and medical supplies. On the fourth day, the Qadir had completely abandoned the Regalian Prison. All prisoners, both noble and common, were released by the mob and set free into the streets. Earl Christopher Black and Ludwig Fuchs walked free after two and a half months in prison, and so did many with them. On the fifth day, a single Regalian ship skimmed the harbor. The first Regalian flag to gallantly dance in the wind was seen by those who lived near the harbor. It passed by the harbor a couple of times before disappearing out of sight, no Qadir were following. Those in the city now faced a terrifying time. The Qadir ceased food shipments and the vast majority of the city would soon run out of medical and food supplies. The Sewers were madly damaged from the rubble and corpses floating down the waterways. Yet hope remained. That single Regalian bannered ship showed they had not forgotten, and soon liberation would be at hand. But at what a cost.
The feeling of helplessness was one to which Winnefred Barescript was well accustomed, having been small of stature, lacking in life experience, and victim to a fire which burned her original home and left her without a mother. She'd come to Regalia to better herself; work as a humble scribe, perhaps in some noble's library, and earn a comfortable living for herself and her meek father. Things had changed rapidly; in the city she found a voice. She realized her innate desire to be outspoken (despite her struggles with actually doing so) and, while maintaining her humility and modesty to the best of her ability, she'd become quite proud of her newly acquired fighting spirit. When Roland began to show faith in her judgment, she felt a sense of pride that went beyond anything she could have anticipated. For the first time, entirely unprecedented, there was the opportunity to fight for herself and prove her ability to be strong, like she wanted to be. Maybe that strength was limited to coming up with strategies or writing official letters for Roland, occasionally showing courage or firm stance in her beliefs, but that was more than enough for her. And then came the realization of her nightmares. Fire, torrents of overwhelming heat which hurt just to look at. She felt the burns, even from her position of relative safety; her breathing became too quick and her panic set in, irrational fear becoming more rational by the moment as things only grew worse in direct correlation with the size of the flames. Chaos. It terrified her, and without any semblance of her usual logic, she turned and fled as one of hundreds of Regalians who scrambled as if someone had dropped vinegar on their little ant hill. She ran for the nearest exit she knew, forgetting in blind terror that it had been barricaded. She was soon pressed against a wall by a number of other Regalians that she would have had difficulty counting even in a calm state of mind. Someone fell against her, trying to catch himself and sending an elbow across her face which then sent her into the wall. The skin over her cheekbones was sore from the blows, feeling tight and stiff and infuriatingly unsymmetrical while her left side seemed far worse-off than the right. Feeling too afraid to wise up and stay still, she tried to wobble through the crowds. Another jet of flame, and the next thing she remembered was face planting onto the street. Her back, still injured from an unrelated event, was squarely stepped on, causing her to convulse and splay out like a dying spider. Thoroughly trampled, she felt herself blacking out as her vision turned to fireworks behind her eyelids and the back of her skull throbbed with heavy pressure that deafened her to everything else. She put her head down, and resigned to pitifully groaning until unconsciousness eventually stole her.
Rei breathed heavily as her heart pounded in her chest. This had been such an exciting thing for her. Riots were something that she hadn't participated in before, so this was her first time. After stealing furnitures from houses with the help of other rioters, she had helped the many rioters construct a barricade in the bridge district. To her, everything seemed to be going well. After hours had passed, Rei had heard marching sounds somewhere.. But.. Where? There was panicking shouts and suddenly rocks and stones were being hurled at a direction. Perhaps it seemed like it was going everywhere. Suddenly fire had started and the Qadir fire mages had done an unexplainable amount of damage to the rioters as they turned the flammables against them. The fire started to get higher and higher, causing pure fear to strike into Rei's eyes. Though it wasn't only fear but a mixture of emotions. Anger, malice, boldness, excitement. Rei looked around as the entire place was on fire, people panicking and screaming. It seemed like everything was slowing down for her in a moment as she looked around. Suddenly, a piece of burning wood had suddenly struck Rei on the shoulder, bringing her down to the ground as the weight was too much for her. "AAAAAAAAGH!" She screamed out in pain and started to curse out as the fire burnt through her clothing immediately and started to burn her skin. The smell of burnt flesh flooded her nose, though it wasn't only her flesh. It was other people's. People in their homes had been screaming due to being burned alive in their very own homes. Rei managed to crawl out from the burning piece of wood that had burned her shoulder. Luckily, it didn't burn her to the bones and Rei managed to get out before the house had entirely collapsed on her from the outside. She managed to not get trampled on and eventually threw herself over the barricade after using the burnt/broken corpses of Regalians as they had piled up. Rei looked around for a moment as she looked up at the sky. This was the first time that fire had truly made her fearful. It shocked her in awe of how something so little, as much of a spark, could create something this.. Destructive. The smell of smoke flooded Rei's nose. (Rei has burns!)
Aron stepped outside of his home on the western side of the city, still in his previous high from before. People were running through the streets screaming and yelling, and it wasn't long until his gaze fell to the smoke stacks from afar. A grin slowly formed on his expression, he didn't know what it was at the time, but he could make an assumption. He pulled out his dagger and then made his way on a sprint through the city until he met the center districts. Of course he nearly now and then, but he was grinning with joy as he furthered into the city, soon seeing where there was once flags there had not been down. Though, his true joy came when he saw an individual Qadir soldier, like a sitting duck to him. After a few minutes of struggle Aron did a complete massacre to it, taking the scimitar from the corpse's sheath and leaving the body where it was, in the meantime now he was back on his feet, using a Sultanate's very own sword to rip down flags. He didn't care for the distant fire off in the west, only to terrorize what he could in the central. The Northerne brute was surely having the time of his life, careless of what horrors may surround them. Anyone near him within the central district would hear his articulate screams, "Don't trip on your way out, brownskins!" Needless to say Aron wasn't the best comedian, but he didn't really care. Cackles and spurts of laughter came from him, as long as the additional swing at someone who got too close, regardless of their skin tone or race. Joy overwhelmed this single man, but what of the rest of the city? Suppose he was soon to find out, after he had his day of terrorizing, of course.
Najwa Al-Kalovia: As the fires were set and skirmishes raged on she saw a lone Qadir beating a slave that joined the rebellion dropping down behind him wither her garrote in hand. She stood tall behind him as the slaver looked back thinking it was just a fellow supporter of the Sultanate he looked back at the slave raising his arms to strike going to before the wire wrapped around his neck. She held it there as his fighting slowed she whispered into his ear "Long live Regalia" before finishing him off and dropping him to the ground holding her hand out to the Thylan slave, If any one is going to fight for the city she has come to love these past years it will be her.
Alea's nose was filled with the scent of burning wood and ashes, hah ashes. her heart racing as the fire loomed closer, to the point her back was singed. She let out a screech of pain, as to continue her running. The back of her hair was burned, and so was her shirt. She raced for the back of the city, the fire spreading quickly as she feared what to do, the only thing on her mind being the memories of when this happened last. The thoughts caused her to go slower, her pace almost reaching the point of walking, just until the scent grew strong. She whipped around as to stare at the fire that had almost reached her, the flames burning her toes as all she could see in the distant was burning corpses, and citizens screaming. She muttered a curse to herself as to continued, trying to shake off the horrid thoughts and find those who were close to her, yet they weren't to be found. "William!?" she screamed at the top of her lungs, before she gasped for a breath as with it was hard to breathe with the heavy smoke the filled the air. She coughed heavily, before continuing on, worrying that all who she cared about was already dead, yet she hoped her thoughts were wrong. She'd continue to race away, pieces of the buildings around her crumbling, materials falling down, before she ended up bumping into the wall out of panic. She was out of breath and couldn't run anymore, as all she could do was hope she was far away enough from the fire. She sat down, her arms scratched up, and most of her clothing burned. She stared into the fires that raged in the distance, til she could barely move anymore out of exhaustion. Alea sat there, simply watching the horror that went on in the city, not being able to do /anything/.
Kailani and Co. watched as the sky grew dark, each member of their little family group thing becoming fearful. "Smoke n' ash! Is smoke n' ash!" E'ami cried, a mix of cheer and fear for a multitude of reasons. Vanilla flattened her ears. "E'ami, This isn't good smoke!" Aruna cowered behind Kailani, who was the biggest of the group since she was a huge Maiar. The short Dakkar whimpered. "What do you mean..?" Before the white Tigran could answer, the Naylar Seedling Yanar of the group answered instead. "There's a building on fire, or more, and we need to get to safety. At least we should get to the opposite side of the city." Maple said. The group watched on, before they heard quick, thumping steps behind them. Four of the five turned to see the fifth member, the Dakkar, Aruna, had began her bolt to the opposite side of Regalia. Kailani sprinted after her, the others quickly following behind in a rushed manner. Meanwhile still inside the second house of Prince road, the calico kitten of Maple Blossom the Efendi Yanar mews desperately at the door for it's tree companion.. (MOCHI NOOOO! MOOCCHHHIIIIII!! D; )
As the distance smoke rolled into the sky House Floriani gathered at their windows in the highest tower sprawling out from the roof. They stood motionless and quiet while watching the scene unfold across the way. Absolutely struck in awe they stared at the blaze coming from the houses and they could only imagine the terror in the many peoples hearts who inhabited the district. While this traumatic event was quite obviously a fluster of mixed emotions for everyone, Lucrezia called for a meeting in the downstairs library. Hoping that the large walls surrounding the area would keep the smoke and smell of burning bodies out of their noses. She also instructed the many servants to close the windows immediately and prepare the guest rooms. As the family slowly made their way to the library and gathered, a small bell rang and the Matriarch of the family began to speak. "Mio familia, with the events that we have witnessed with our own eyes- we have few options now. As you are all aware we have been speaking with the Chancellor about efforts that would hinder the Qadir and it is quite blatant they have enacted upon their own wishes to go about and start the rebellion. It is also quite clear that the war is turning in favor of our most gracious Empire, May the Emperor bless us. No less, we must send word to the family to meet with us in secrecy so that when the city is reclaimed we are not deemed traitors to the state for signing allegiance to the tanned swines! While we all knew in our heart this day would come, we could not simply sign off on our people of Vultaro and allow them to be ruled by the heathens who so barbarically stole what is rightfully ours. Now, I ask that we begin to refuse any interference from the Qadir and remain independent in the times to come. As well as arrange a meeting with the brave people that have saved us from this dark cloud, that being House Typhonus. All in favor?" As the room quieted for a brief moment the family began to speak, with only curt replies of "Si. Si. Si.." it was in the end an anonymous vote for the proposed plan. Lucrezia offered them a brief nod before leaving the room in a hurry with the wave of her hand few advisors followed. They marched up the small staircase, through the sitting room and into the tastefully decorated livingroom. Lucrezia sat at the grand chair and began commanding the many people to sit before her and begin taking notes and penning letters. Of which one was as follows, @Catcat1305 Spoiler To whom it may concern, On behalf of House Floriani I write to you so that we may partake in a tea time to discuss this tragedy that has struck our beautiful city. We wish to have his Chancellorship over with his designated heir in hopes to aid those affected by what has broken out. With haste, @Dracon448 @LimeCrime @Arisreviews @MrHappyTinkles
@Missmaggy2u She leaned against the wall, awaiting to help who she could, it all happened so fast. The fires spread like they had gasoline poured over them for hours and hours. It was all so calm, in her own eyes she thought so atleast. She was a Qadir in fact, but her heart lay with the original owners of Regalia and she would give her life to save anyone she could. She was only awaiting more orders, she should of known... She was a mage for Christ sakes?! Why would she not think they would all be suffocated and burned to death. She never thought once that her own people, even after all the cruelty would kill so many people in such a horrible way. She looked around her, watching people she knew and loved die like rats. The decisionWas she to help who she could or run for her own life? The brilliantly white haired Qadir shook her head as she hit her fist against the wall. The words rolled off her tongue as she screamed, the few words seeming so powerful as they echoed around her."Protéger les faibles avec la lumière." A burst of light wrapped around her and the few people below and in front of her. She fell to a knee, the amount of fire and heat hitting the shield but she held it. She knew if she was to let it down more and more people would die. Brae'lah let out a shriek of pain as the flames licked her back, she shook in pain but continued to hold the cast. She had been training these spells almost her whole life, almost fifty consecutive years. She held her arms out to try and extend the shield range, it was all she knew. The girl could not fight, never could, magic was all she knew. The fire licked the hairs off her arms, leaving scars over her body but the people below her was all that mattered to her. The cast slowly faded, it was hard enough to cast such a shield but with all the fire, it was pushing her to her limits. The mages had let down their casts, the fire was still everywhere but it was not being blown down the streets. Not as much atleast... She stood over Winnefred Barescript, and many others. She had not known any of these people, not these few in particular but it was her duty to save as many as she could. She brought her hands down, the cast collapsing around her as she crumpled to the floor. Anyone within the area would of seen her cast and even know she tried to keep it a secret, it was not much a secret anymore.... The white haired girl lay blacked out on the ground, on the verge of having her mind ripped away from her. ((Anyone is welcome to say they were under the shield. I have and will always be fascinated by Light Barrier magic. ))
Dawn had been reaching out in the horizon when Roland heard the fire. He had been tearing down a great number of banners and orchestrating the liberation of the central districts when a teeth-shattering explosion was heard from behind. Accompanied by a few members of the inner circle of the Crownguard, he rushed for the entrance to the Bridge District. Weaving between the increasing numbers of fleeing rioters, he made his way for the gatehouse. But as he turned the corner to face the adjoining street, a gout of hellfire pealed out from the entrance. Beyond the stream of frightened men and women, he saw a raging inferno erupt from the gaps between the townhouses. With a quick order, he commanded his surrounding Crownguards to orchestrate some measure to stop the flames from spilling into the rest of the city. As they dispersed around the gatehouse, Roland himself made for the ascending spire attached to the fortification, and went to face the chaos from above. As he pushed open the door to the city walls, the brightness of the scene nearly blinded him. Still reeling from the shock of bright flames, he continued to stagger through and place himself behind one of the crenellations upon the city gates. When the black swathes of darkness cleared from his vision, he turned with a covered set of eyes to look upon the riot. What looked back at Roland’s shocked eyes was madness. The entirety of the district was alight. He saw the roofs upon houses spout upwards in bright sparks, and whole houses erupting into flame and collapsing within seconds. Ignoring the gut-wrenching sight of burning men rushing through the streets, he looked beyond and towards the Imperial bridge at the Qadir gathered upon it. It was a strange sight, comparing the number of robe-clad men to the amount of destruction that had occurred in mere minutes. Disbelief gripped his mind as he weighed the sheer disregard for living beings portrayed by the Qadir. He watched for a while, silently, as the Qadir fired upon the bridge and severed the Imperial district from the rest of the city. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... As Roland descended from the gatehouse a couple of hours later, his mind was a blur of thought; he had plenty of time to mull the situation over while watching it unfold in front of him. The turn of events still seemed unreal, and he seemed resolved to figure out the root of the sudden eruption of fire. On his way downwards, a familiar face rose from the stairway and blocked his way down. The man happened to be one of the ringleaders of the riot, and a miraculous survivor of the fire. They spoke on their way down, discussing what was to be said to the other surviving rioters and the matters that needed to be attended to as a result of the Qadir’s withdrawal. When the two reached the bottom of the gatehouse, Roland was met with a grief-stricken boy around the age of 15, staring dolefully at the leader of the Resistance. As he looked to Roland with a defeated stare, the ringleader piped up from behind. “Cheer up! Imagine what the Qadir’d ha’ done if they’d-a had more o’ the city under control, aye? We stopped ‘em, laddie!”. The words sailed emptily through the air, and for a moment Roland feared that the message had not been conveyed to the youth. But after an excruciating minute, the boy wiped his face and nodded his head. Roland then looked him directly in the eye, and said thus; “A mighty cost, we have paid with our actions. But we are honor bound to finish what we have started. Tell the others to collect, and prepare for the wounded. We have stopped the Qadir; echo the words said to you.”. With a quick, if not awkward pat on the back, the boy turned and started walking once more, with a glimmer of hope emanating from the spring of his step. Before long, the boy's shouts were heard from the deathly empty streets as Roland continued onwards. +=+=+=+ OoC: The initial meeting that was to discuss our moves in this riot has been moved to Friday night (April 17th), at the same time of 5:00pm EST, at the same location. This meeting will take place after this world progression event. Attendance is highly encouraged. @Missmaggy2u @Jadee @Terence29 @Bounden @Kandane @Luthien @Owen_Kearno @SacredSalmon @Squint_1 @Eliza_Nightly @ApatheticLlama @Gloster173 @Whoever else might be involved.
At the first sign of commotion, Trent knew something was up and was glad for the food he had stockpiled but what could he do now? a few days later what he feared had come to pass, the qadir had stopped food and medical shipments from entering the liberated parts of the city, now it was only a matter of time, "alright lets see here, ive got two weeks of food if i ration it right, lets hope assiatance comes by than, if not ill need to find a way to leave this infernal city" as he said this he thought of all the people he knew, how many had perished and how many more shall perish? he had decided he would help the few he could, keep them alive yes, share food with them? no he couldn't share his rations, but he would do everything thing else in his power, the holy city will stand at its strongest once more
A familiar shade of purple and a familiar swelling of patriotism was overtaking her mind and heart. This was a bad idea. But who was she to stand by while others died in the name of heroism? The sacrifice of human life was nothing new. In fact, it only served to further her need to squeeze the life from those Qadir bastards once again. Leah donned her Kade colors, glancing in the mirror and finally feeling like her honest self again. Oh, she hated being in disguise. And she hated being idle! She could begin to feel her muscles shrinking with this lack of activity, and that was simply inexcusable. She went through the Lampero estate assuming to find a sword somewhere. If not, she could steal a fire poker, but there was no glory in such a tool insulting the battlefield. She did improvise a shield from the lid of a large cooking pot (Ha! Glad to he insisted on the renovation of the kitchen, now!) but even a kitchen knife seemed undignified. Assuming she wasn't stopped by any of the other occupants of the house, she would do the following: Leah Kade, who might have been smiling if not for the horrors outside, moved strategically into the afflicted districts, avoiding the barricades. She set to work doing something which she thoroughly enjoyed; lifting heavy things. She found the wounded and brought them inside to hide, she picked up those who were in danger of being trampled. Though her endurance wasn't particularly impressive, her willpower was, and she carried people away from the encroaching fires for as long as she could stand. There were few Qadir within the district itself, but she wasn't equipped to handle the mages alone. For now she sent the clear message; she did not support, nor have any part in this revolt. In fact, the sheer disorganized nature of it was insulting to the city and displayed their lack of faith in the emperor. But she couldn't help it; she couldn't stand not being a part of it. After all, what was the point of staying in Regalia all this time, anyways ? To every person she assisted, she tried to reiterate something akin to the following. "The sacrifices made today prove that Regalians are brave and unbreakable. Help is on the way; survive till then, comrade, and this day will not have been in vain." In the following days, she went back to laying low. The point had been made; the people weren't abandoned. And now, about that food shortage... Now that was a problem.
'Heinrich Martin' had been a fitting name to take, given that the name belonged to his old, retired tutor in strategies and tactics. Whilst the other honourable Typhoni had made their false pledge to the Qadir, Max refused and went under the radar. He understood Ulric's intentions, though for this battle-hardened soldier, it seemed that underhanded work against those who invaded would work better. This much was true, for he had committed acts of assault and cloak-and-dagger style murder under the heavy, murky shroud of night without as much as one utterance of the name Maximilian. For now, however, it was time to revert back to his birth-given name. Heinrich, or Max, gritted his polished teeth at the sight of acrid smoke billowing into Regalia's skyline from the ashen Bridge District. His face, already grime streaked and uncouth, contorted into a disappointed expression with furrowed brows and an unforgiving grimace. The fires that raged like an untamed inferno within Calemberg's historical and refined walls had been bad enough for Maximilian, especially due to the fact that his shoulder had been scarred and the flesh about it disfigured into a mass of mottled muscle and white skin because of the blaze. Now, to see fires and rioting occur within the Holy City? Why, it was shocking and reprehensible. He had donned an emerald green sash about his waist, slipped his dirks into his boots just as Silverhand had once instructed him to, and carried his treasured silver brooch on the lapel of his sooty attire; it bearing the Typhonus crest proudly. He set off towards what would surely be ruins and blackened shells of a once respectable district, ready to give his assistance to those in need of aid. Upon arrival, his shock worsened. What lay before him reminded him of the grisly sights during the Elven war, bodies strewn in the street and the flesh upon them charred. Some bodies still had fine, curling wisps of smoke rise tendrilously from them. He stepped through scattered chunks of rubble, broken wooden beams and yet more corpses, going to help those up who needed it and, if need be, put an end to those who would surely not survive. Others around him were doing the same thing, charting off corpses and lending a hand to people who had been injured or crippled amidst the ensuing fires. The Qadir had done another monstrous thing but, with all hope in his heart, Maximilian knew that their demise would come about in the following days, weeks or even months. The Typhonus stood on an upturned cart, surveying the scene as the brooch on his breast glinted in the light of the dimming fires. The Kades would return. The Crown Prince was making remarkable efforts abroad, he had already seen Prince Thomas, an uplifting relief, and through the Coens he knew that Prince Cedric was safe. What of the young Astrid? What of his friend Leah? What of the others? If possible, he would be one to strike at the heart of the Qadir's rule. And, by the Divine, he would strike hard. The Typhonus family will strike hard. @Catcat1305 @Careylicious
At first Narien found himself fortifying the barricades on the streets, propping up any piece of furniture he could find against the pile of assorted household items that blockaded the streets. Wavering from his intention for just a moment he stood back from the scene, a skillet loosely resting in his grasp. Honestly he was scared and even though he constantly reminded himself of the purpose of all this, a shred of doubt clung to the back of his thoughts. Allowing that doubt to seize his actions for just a moment he backed away from the scene, hastily forcing his way through the crowds of rioters that were scattered around the streets of the eastern side of the city. Quickly, he became aware that the fighting had commenced, a surge of people now making it more difficult to dash his way through the crowds. The unrest amongst the crowd however intensified, shrill screams erupting from the direction in which he originally came from. Confused, concerned and panicked people forcefully shoved about the mass of rioters trying to escape, those who weren't strong enough to stand their ground were crumpled under the panicked feet of frantic civilians. Chaos quickly ensued, flames beginning to rage behind the citizens, delivering fatal blows in sweeps of sweltering fire to those unfortunate enough to find themselves caught up in the midst of the tragedy. Rapidly the blaze trailed behind, threatening to consume everything and anything in its wake. The air, thick with smoke, proved Narien's lungs to be insufficient in driving him any further from his current point without great struggle. The pan in his hand now clanging on the ground in favour of clasping both of his hands over his mouth, an attempt of sorts to prevent him from inhaling the toxic smoke that lingered about. Staggering onwards he was pulled to a grinding halt, turning on his heels in terror upon seeing the fire in quick pursuit. Hastily jolting back around he headed toward the intersection of two streets, spotting a shining beacon of hope in the distance, a fountain. Without skipping a beat he surged toward it, leaping over the stone edge and falling into the shallow waters. Swiftly flames would envelop the surrounding area, clinging onto the wooden houses as a form of sustenance. The fire weakened as it surpassed, flickering over the where Narien now lay. The immense heat boiled the water encircling him, the flames sweeping past. Although painful to endure, that result was light in comparison to the burns that now marked his face. Having to expose his features in order to enable him to breath the fire singed the skin on his countenance, Narien only able to let out a wheezing cry before the smoke eventually forced him to pass out, bobbing atop the water of the fountain. Spoiler 49 or less = Fine | 50 or more = Minor Injury | 75 or more = Serious Injury | 100= Deathlol Result = 76godamnitsoclose
Aldrich Birgham: The old man saw the fires and smiled his time in this world was almost up he has known for awhile just like his pets he whistles as his large cat comes from out of the city. "Well Ms. Binglesworth it is time. " He climbs onto her being smaller and frail as he yells "For the glory of Regalia"! riding of through as much shade as he can. He comes upon a few qadir attacking some citizens of Regalia he rides to a stop climbing off and yells for their attention "Hey!" he shouts. as he runs at one then jumping on him and sinking is fangs into its neck as his cat fights with two others he manages to take this one out moving to another before a sword pierces his heart. Seeing his cat go down after she slays one, he falls in the sun with a smile on his face as he burns "A good death at least".
KEMION: Kemion saw the fires, and he was making his way to his home in the Old Gods District. He knew that if that district had been liberated, then he could finally get out of this damn disguise, even if it was only in a part of the city. When he got there, a discovery was made: there were no red banners, no red and black carpet along any path. He smiled, and knew that this resistance could work. As a result, he decided to try and find the leaders of this rebellion. He was getting his city back.
The stench of ash and dust was nothing too unfamiliar to Quentin Sinclair-- he was an experienced alchemist, after all. Whilst he had not taken part in the rebellion, rising tensions and increase in daily street conflicts could only have led to this point. Sitting idly atop the rooftop to his own shop and home, his golden gaze drawled over the various plumes of black smoke, the screams of the helpless harmoniously infusing themselves with the crackling of the roaring flames. From his vantage point, it almost seemed like rats darting about an intricate maze of streets and homes, falling one after the other to the force of fire. It was a testament to the Qadir power, yet he had to remind himself-- this was but the spark to the chemical. Which left him and his allied Kindred De Nocturne to be the catalysts of the reaction. His purpose in Regalia was his own, and under the cover of bloodied smoke and rotting corpses he would take that of which he desired. The days of sewer lurking were over, and the time for the subdued forces of the Night to act was now. Pushing himself to his feet and making his way into the seclusion of his shop, he could only help but mutter thoughtfully.. "Every action, should it have an equal and opposite reaction.. should therein tear this city apart. Leaving the spoils to the survivors..~"
http://**********.com/images/76448625984754322079.png Hundreds upon hundreds of houses emitted a rather beautiful fiery light from their rooftops followed by columns of smoke. Well, it would have been beautiful had it not been the cause of a rise in the Regalian death count. A lady stepped out onto her balcony, her mouth dropped in shock. Her hand gripped onto the railings as her knees nearly gave way. Soon after tears dropped down her face and she quickly made her way to the kitchen first, rushing to grasp her large wicker Moses basket. Spyra threw the lid off it and started to raid her pantry and cupboards, grabbing anything she was able to eat readily and throwing it in the container. Once she was done the musician also grabbed her instruments and headed back upstairs. A quick sweep of the bedroom brought to her hands a collection of pillows and blankets. Spyra headed down to the first floor, setting all of this in front of an inconspicuous bookcase. She was about to walk over to her desk when she heard screams from afar and soon the deathlike smell of burning flesh proceeded to fill her nostrils. She gagged, almost emptied the contents of her belly everywhere but held it down. Sitting at the desk, Spyra swiftly set out her quill, inkpot and parchment before writing out two letters, each with their own twist. Fold. Pour Wax. Seal. The lady then hid them under her corset, fastening a cape around her shoulders. The postbox was only a few streets away, but within those streets the young woman saw things she'd never think to see. Dead men, mangled and torn to shreds littered the roads. They were accompanied by the occasional woman and one or two children. She cried as quietly as she could, wanting to just get onto a boat and flee to her mother's arms in Etosil, hear her sweet voice while her father rambled on about finding a suitable husband and sorting out her dowry. All of that was gone now. She just slipped the letters into the boxes and left, running to her abode as fast as her legs would carry her. Once she was inside, Spyra stumbled up the stairs and reached the bookcase. She went to the wall on it's side, and sidled out a loose brick within. Reaching her hand in the lady fumbled about until she felt a lever, and pulled. The bookcase groaned and creaked, shunting aside to reveal a meagre hidden room. In she went, supplies and all. Another lever on the inside ensured her anonymity. Spyra climbed a short ladder to reach an uncomfortable cot, setting the things down by her side. She gathered the blankets and pillows and made a modest nest of sorts, curling up inside it. She hoped they'd get the letter. Emperors willing. ~O~
The ever fanciful Tigran, Ryu Nanso, quietly got up like any other morning, with a pounding headache and the knowledge he had one too many Vodka's that night. Shaking his head, he smelled something.... Burning. Blaming the person downstairs bacon-cooking skills, he quietly got up, muttering about the whole Qadir invasion to himself, silently annoyed that so far so far, it appears Estel, and/or Basskarr had ignored his prayers for retri- "A SHIP! IT'S THE REGALIANS!" At first, he was quite annoyed that someone would yell so loud and make his headache worse. In fact, he was in the process of yelling right back when it hit him. "...Regalian ship?" He quickly ran outside, putting on some slight robes and realizing where that smokey smell came from, dashing over to the harbor, barely managing to see the last glimpse of that yellow and gold banner of this land. The true banner. Quietly blinking to himself, he slowly went down on his knees, muttering to himself: "Thank ye', Both of ye'. Whichever one is out there." Slowly getting back up, he checked to make sure his Katar and daggers were still sharp, planning to use them somehow. "...It's a brand new day... Power to the people."
I think this fits so... Replace "London" with Regalia Spoiler: Click it~ London Bridge is falling down, Falling down, falling down. London Bridge is falling down, My fair lady. Build it up with wood and clay, Wood and clay, wood and clay, Build it up with wood and clay, My fair lady. Wood and clay will wash away, Wash away, wash away, Wood and clay will wash away, My fair lady. Build it up with bricks and mortar, Bricks and mortar, bricks and mortar, Build it up with bricks and mortar, My fair lady. Bricks and mortar will not stay, Will not stay, will not stay, Bricks and mortar will not stay, My fair lady. Build it up with iron and steel, Iron and steel, iron and steel, Build it up with iron and steel, My fair lady. Iron and steel will bend and bow, Bend and bow, bend and bow, Iron and steel will bend and bow, My fair lady. Build it up with silver and gold, Silver and gold, silver and gold, Build it up with silver and gold, My fair lady. Silver and gold will be stolen away, Stolen away, stolen away, Silver and gold will be stolen away, My fair lady. Set a man to watch all night, Watch all night, watch all night, Set a man to watch all night, My fair lady. Suppose the man should fall asleep, Fall asleep, fall asleep, Suppose the man should fall asleep? My fair lady. Give him a pipe to smoke all night, Smoke all night, smoke all night, Give him a pipe to smoke all night, My fair lady.
Hulk Hagan and Macho man the randy savage must work together to protect their fellow citizens in Regalia. Macho man is fitting into a slim jim for this one!
Ladrengilon Ibriis Lad spent the whole time the city was on fire in the Regalian wilderness. Well, don't blame him, what old man can resist fishing alone? The Isldar was peacefully walking down a hill as he saw the mostly burnt down city in the distance, stopping up a little. A sigh escaped him, the look on his pale and tired face not any kind of surprising for someone who knew him. He simply stood there, a leather bag stuffed with different fish and some meat hung over his shoulder, staring blankly at the city. He didn't show any signs of care or worry for his only friend who actually was in the city at that time, nor did he really care. The only thoughts triggering him was where he would cook his fish now. An eye roll and some unintelligent words took place before he continued to walk towards the gate, not taking note of that Regalian ship. Nothing really bothered him with the Qadir, and the return of the Regalians would only mean the return
Which area of Regalia is the bridge district? Is it somewhere where players are renting houses, or is this district one that doesn't appear in-game?
Simon could see plumes of smoke rising over the horizon from his storefront. His eyes widened, whether it was hope or horror, he did not know. The young adult leaped out of his chair, vaulting over his oaken desk. Cap'n! Cap'n! Simon shouted the words louder than he had meant, nearly trampling his slave as he slammed his fists on the door to the stone and brick room where Khalidas Cael Rhys was surely sleeping. @JakkDhread
Ramirez, the qadir [K.I.A.] Spoiler Ramirez ran and ran from the raging fire with a grin of madness across her face, yes, yes! This is finally happening! She was among the fleeing qadir that got onto the ships at the harbor, in a large duffel bag slung across her shoulder was large amount of TNT explosives, she waited until the ship got far enough from the others before moving down into the lower deck, making sure no one sees her she struck up a match, screaming out. "Yippie ki-yay motherf***ers!!! Yeeeee haw!!!" Moments later a deafening explosion tore said ship in half, sending the passengers flying off in all directions and into the sea. Some people did survive when the other ships finally make the rescue but the hillbilly qadir traitor was nowhere to be found, the only thing left was her charred hat left floating in the sea. Gustav, the oprichna Spoiler Gustav and friends finally unbarricaded their door and joined the rioters outside, arming the comrades in immediate areas with the weapons they had been illegally stockpiling in their workshop and smashing qadir left and right with his trusty sledgehammer. He was there when the flame were fanned, his gang barely escaped the blaze alive as they jumped into the river, swimming among the burnt corpses they made it back to their place, no casualty but almost all of them were injured on varying levels. They stayed at their workshop until the regalian ship showed up, a cheer erupted among the group and they unrolled the regalia banner they had been hiding away. Hope at last. Roxanne, the librarian Spoiler Roxanne could not suppress a giggle from the room in her house. She knew this day would come soon enough. Then her thought snapped back to her library, but her assistants had that well handles in their hands. She remained inside waiting for all the chaos to clear up before going outside to experience change. Might have a cheering toast with Basium later. Marianne, the vampire Spoiler Marianne just hid there in the park, despite all the chaos outside. Eventually her hunger got the better of her and she got out, biting a few qadir and sucking their blood before retreating to her hideout. She really hopes that whatever the kindred has in mind they wouldn't include her, maybe set her free also. It was a dry hope but it worths hoping.
'The Valor Family' Sophia Du Polignac - Valor Sophia hummed softly to herself, she had been back in the city for only two days and was figuring if she should stay or have herself smuggled out again. The contact's in the city, which she made were mostly gone or dead. Sitting on a small makeshift-chair, she heared noices outside, unsure of what is was, she walked to the window. As the sound was comming from the city, she opened up her front door and started listening. A Hanging? A Rebellion? Mass Executions? The sounds which the people produced could be all of these things. Unsure of what was happening, Sophia went back inside to take her coat and place herself outside her house, looking where the noise came from. Once prepared to go outside, she did so and closed the door behind her. Checking if she had her keys in her pocket, she zoned out for the sound for a minute, seeing she had somehow tucked the key away where she couldn't find it. Once the key was back in her right pocket, she started paying attention again. Instead of the yelling, she now heard screams of terror. Unsure if this was the same sound as they produced before, Sophia waited a while to make out what the sound was what she was hearing. Turning around to look where the sound actually came from, scared her. A black cloud, which didn't look natural to her. Stepping towards the sound, she stopped in her track, because of people fleeing away from the sounds which she was eager to find out what it was. But it was clear to her, as the people fled past her, in charred, blackened clothing, she didn't know what was happening, but she knew it wasn't good. As she hurried back inside, she waited for four days, declining food to others who passed her house for help, because she had almost none herself. The house was still undecorated and didn't have anything of value in it for raiders to take, or to substain poor souls. What would she do? She was running out of food and some family members were in the city, if they weren't dead. These following days would be interesting and hard.. but interesting nontheless.
Aethris had himself smuggled out nearly as soon as smugglers came, but if he were to hear the news, he'd be a bit frightened for the capital but glad he wasn't there. Jon went into hiding after this, fear of fires eventually turned into a recurring phobia inside him and he began to develop PTSD for Qadir. Spoiler Tim, aside from his not-being-out-in-months state, finally sensed more than the occasional Qadir and change in atmosphere around Regalia. He even saw the red-and-black flag outside sometimes (although he didn't know what it was, he almost assumed it was a redo of the Fongs' flag and that they overthrew the city or something). Now, he smelled smoked and heard screaming then this grew louder and the smell grew so heavy that he knew he wasn't going insane and hallucinating. He wanted to go out, finally see what was happening... But alas, there he was, a slave before the invasion in a crazy girl's home who called him her daughter even though she technically isn't. It was either just letting him free, or Tim escaping by force. He thought about what he was currently, but a painful memory ran back to his head. "... (unintelligible chatter) ... And if you tell anyone, I'll have your guts on the park's gates." "(Unintelligible words drowned out)... Pet..." He realized how dire of a situation he was in, thoughts- no, definite outcomes flew into his mind about what could happen to him at this point. Become a pet until she or he dies, die in a fire, die of a sickness, die of hunger. Negativity flew into Tim's docile and neutralized mind, beginning to refurbish him into a stressed-out vengeful smartarse. The last outcome he thought of, was freedom by any means whatsoever. Tim will come back, he WILL come back, all the determination assured him so. Tim's stress and anger levels (and Tim's natural self) rise and probably will be unstable reducing him to a raving and desperate maniac. What will the only two beings he has come into contact with do? @Death_Thorn @LlamaDelRey
Micheal took a sip from his mug, watching the flames spread. He had heard the commotion, and from what his runners had said the uprising had finally started. Freedom always came with a cost, and now was no difference. Many were dead, and their city still burned. The Claithian in him would rather all of Regalia burn before the Mudskins retook it, though the Regalian Blood in him demanded more efficiency. Right now, time was of the essence and he needed to act. His brother was still in the Bridge District, and Micheal had to hope the Regalian Priest had the Light's favor and had survived. He had sent runners to try and find ways to them, but with the destruction of the bridge, scant few were willing to traverse the river. Business was slowing down, most people more focused on the revolt than trading and smuggling. Which left him with product lying around, making him a target for looters. Micheal's first order was to move the goods to a select group of safe houses, under heavy guard. Food, medical supplies, and weapons were to be kept on the main estate. It wasn't an easy task, two of the safe houses becoming exposed and looted almost instantly. The plan was simple. After rationing out what food his men and the Kruez would need for month, the rest were to be sold at 'fair' prices across what areas were safe enough to sell in. His merchants would take only a small portion of food and supplies, as to prevent any major losses. All in all he figured that the profits now would help make up for the losses he would suffer normally from all this. After the Kruez made enough for them to proceed with their other endeavors, he was going to start giving food away to the churches. He'd sent armed men of course, and they'd help ensure the food made it to the people. If everything went according to plan, he'd end up richer and bring more honor to his kinsmen's name. Win win. Micheal knew from experience that nothing in life ever went according to plan, but he would make the best he could do. He stopped before a small alter, one dedicated to the Light. As a proper Unionist, he had made a place for him and his mean to pray shortly after the Qadir took their home. Dropping down on his knees, he began a prayer that had help guide him from a young age. Spirit how many are meh foes. How many may rise 'gainst meh. How many will say Ailors cannae Deliver. But yeh faith are a shield fer meh, meh glory, teh glory O' our kinsmen, we call out ta his will. Teh will and direction O' yer Imperial Crown, vestige and body O' yer Imperial will an promise. We lay, we hunger, we eat an we sleep fer teh Spirit lifts us high an sustains us in our destiny. Arise ye Ailor, be delivered by teh Imperial Spirit, strike our enemies an free teh unkowin'. From teh Spirit comes deliverance, may his blessin' be upon teh Imperial Folk, an all Ailors. He was silent for a moment, paying his respects to the light. However, he was far from done. Ah know yer probably gettin' many a prayer on this night, but Ah ask that yeh help us all. Guide my kinsmen through teh fire, and deliver him from danger. Protect them who serve meh order, mehself, an meh kin. Guide us from this hell, an inta teh Glory O' yer Light. Ah cannae see teh future, but Ah willnea ferget teh lessons yeh have taught us. Help us restore our homes, the homes O' our kin, an help us brin' Glory back ta our Jewel. May teh Light protect all who honor it. Bealtaine an Solas a chosaint. Micheal rose, bowed, and walked away. There was business to be done, and he wasn't one to shirk responsibility.
