Lucille stares across the city from the park, watching the heavy cloud of smoke. The city would be free she hoped, but at what cost? She flipped a Regal over the edge of the falls, its landing impacted by the roar of the falls. She stood up silently, heading back to her shop, hoping to pass out more bread to the needy
The Lord of Calemberg squinted. Across from him, his nephew stood silent, both of their blades poised in starting formation. Though it seemed Liam was putting a bit too much weight on his left foot. Ulric shook his head slightly, lowering his saber to his side. "Mm. Excellent form, but you've too much weight on your left. Try-" The Lord paused, his gaze quickly shooting up to the eastern sky as a thick cloud of black smoke began to rise over the bridge district. For a smoke cloud in the east to be visiable from the Regalian sparring grounds in the west, it must have been caused by a large fire. Liam seemed to take note of Ulric's concern, the young Typhonus following his uncle's gaze up to the smoke. Ulric flung his saber back into it's sheath, striding forward as the smoke rose higher into the Regalian skyline. A few men dressed in common garb rushed past, muttering something about rebellion in the bridge district, Qadir warships, and fire mages. Ulric gripped his saber, his lips pulling into a tight frown as he gestured his Nephew forward. If the rebellions had already begun, then there was no time to waste. Drawing his saber once more, Ulric and Liam took to the streets, rushing off towards the Typhonus Estate. The dim flicker of a candle illuminated Ulric's office, casting various shadows around the room. Ulric ran a hand through his graying hair, slicking a few stray strands back into place before looking over his shoulder to glance out the window behind him. It was just past midnight on the fith day of the blaze, and the fires continued to ravage the bridge district. What little Typhonus staff that were present during the occurance reported the events of the past five days to Ulric, and it seemed to be nothing short of utter disaster. The Brownskins had been pushed back to the wealthier palatial districts, but left heaps of destruction in their wake. Qadir fire mages had torched homes, blockades, and even innocent citizen who had only wanted to escape the rebellions in the safety of their own homes. In a sudden fit of rage, The Lord's features contorted into a scowl, his fist slamming down atop the wood of his desk. This ended now. He could no longer bare to continue acting his false loyalty to these beasts. With a shakey hand, Ulric reached forward, taking hold of the nearest pot of ink, quill, and parchment, and began to write. "Citizens of the Imperial City! For too long have I continued my charade of loyalty to the Brownskins who have invaded our homes, broken our families, and slaughtered our hope. From the deepest recesses of my heart do I hope that none of you thought for a moment that I would abandon the Realm, especially after all the work I have put forward with you and your brothers in arms. I have been working secretly with other members of society in an attempt to undermine the Pasha's grip, but only now, after the atrocities they have comitted upon our innocent citizens in the Bridge District, do I realize that keeping our efforts in the shadows will do nothing. Here and now, I, Lord Ulric Thane Typhonus, do formally denounce my claim of loyalty to the Qadir Pashtallah and his regime of savages. It has also been brought to my attention that the city's supplies are begining to dwindle, and to that end, I shall assist to the best of my ability. The House Typhonus will be sending shipments of medical supplies to the city's Healing Houses, and we humbly open our exapnsive armories to the members of the CrownGuard rebellion. Remain vigilante, my fellow citizens. This morning we have recived a sign, a warship, flying the Regalian banner proudly. The Imperial Spirit has not forgotten us." Ulric set the quill to the side, sliding the parchment forward to a waiting member of his staff. "See that this letter is copied and posted about the city. Then, contact our ports in Calemberg and instruct them to give up any medical supplies that they can spare, for the good of our brothers in the Imperial City. I shall contact a House Guard about opening the armouries.." The servant nodded curtly, and began a silent stride out of the Lord's office. Not even a moment after he had left, Ulric's posture deflated, the aged knight sinking back into the velvet of his chair. He had failed the city. Months of occupation, and this is the most he could muster. Void, even he had failed to keep the Qadir from invading. Slowly, Ulric reached under his vest, producing a his small pendant of Unionism depicting the Imperial Hand. Ulric felt over the pendant as he felt tears begining to form in the corners of his eyes. He did his best to supress them, sitting motionless with only the pendant in his hand before speaking, barely above a whisper. "May the Imperial Spirit forgive me." @MonMarty
Ronyo looked up when his tigran friend ran out and he followd him think 'A Regalian ship ey? tides are turning' He looked towards Ryu to tell him what he tought when Ryu said "...It's a brand new day... Power to the people." Ronyo shrugged "i don't care much about who is the leader in this City. But i'm happy i can sell my Regalian colourd fireworks again without being scolded by Qadirs, those damned shitskins" Ronyo walked back in grabbing some fireworks and his dual bladed Katar. @Tra_kad look i did it too
Ramone’s eyes stung with smoke. He had told Antoni and Rosia, along with the amnesia-inflicted Effie, who he passed on his way to the asylum hole, to hide in their dingy hole in the ground. He dearly hoped Effie was following, as he dared not look back towards the forthcoming firestorm. Shortly after all occupants piled inside, Ramone willed a stone or two to block off the hole. His siblings and others yelled in protest as he went to look for further occupants. But, now is now. He looked around frantically, under the nearby arch of a building, for anyone he might notice, his stones in hand. It was at this moment he saw the flames starting to lick into view. “Damn.” Was the only thing uttered before he turned to beat feet. He didn’t want to get hurt more then he already was. The flames had already licked him during the sudden onslaught he witnessed on his way home from the lower districts. He kept running, his thoughts swimming. This was going to be a dark time, indeed. Ramone finally made it back to the hole, the flames not too far off from view. The stones were moved and the fatigue piled itself on as he moved them back into place, waiting out the maelstrom with those around him. @masterichu @CheshireKitten @SumDumNoob Pablo chuckled while sipping his tea. He leaned over and kissed Adya, so glad they had taken a vacation when they had. He shifted in his chair, infront of the Daendrocque seat. As the news came to them, his vindictive side arisen as he realized all loose ends might have been sealed. No more Apollonia or Kaleel to deal with. No more Willem or cults. All he wanted right now was his Adya and peace. She wouldn’t leave him, because she was a Qadir too, or, at least he hoped she wouldn’t. He took another sip of tea, wondering what their new names should be. Of course they would return… Maybe. If things calmed down. For now, he was content with this. @CheshireKitten
It was fairly obvious the people were going to start an insurgency. The Qadir had full control of food distribution whilst their forces were depleting by the minute. Graeton did not feel addressed, even though he was approached by a humble fellow of the crownguard himself. He had his house barricaded instead and chose to remain unimpaired by the revolt. It did not last long however before he proved to be interrupted by the atrocious shrieks of inflamed citizens. Good thing he had a pair of earplugs in his bedroom if the sound of the night was a bit striking. At some point during the afternoon of the 22nd of April the what-would-so-seem endless screaming had ended. Peace. So he thought. Upon breaking out of his own home he saw the city aflame with streets packed with burned cadavers. Graeton felt quite horrified, but not responsible. He could have been heroic during the resistance but also risking his very lifework. Graeton despises risks. In the aftermath he and his entire workforce could be seen lending a hand to those who needed it. An honorable cause, surely, but it was what he had been submitted to do. With the ceased food and medical shipments Graeton had to ensure his provision for himself, his family and his workforce. He had his entire ship drained with whatever food and medicament there was to find and during this ‘raid’, one particular worker had noticed a regalian ship skim the harbor. For many this occurrence meant hope but for Graeton it meant that there was an opportunity.
Ludwig Fuchs It was the scent of the smoke that pulled Ludwig out of his sleep in the early morning. The mysterious letters he received over the past months kept him up to date, but a fire? Of course, it was only a matter of time until fire would erupt in the holy city itself, after the recent events. The guards outside seemed nervous and hastily spoke in their native tongue, a language Ludwig doesn't understand whatsoever. He wasn't entirely sure whether he should be afraid or pleased. Afraid of being left behind in the prison or afraid of the Qadir using him to make an example of him, or pleased as this may be an opportunity to become a free man once again. But then it happened, the prison was stormed, seemingly overpowered by the amount of raging citizen and rebels having arrived to free the Duke and the remaining captured nobility, and seemingly everyone else who had to suffer under the Qadir occupation. Finally he was able to see the natural sunlight again, although it was a pain in his eyes for the first minutes he spent outside, after the numerous months he has spent inside. A familiar looking Tigriss Tigran stood there, having arrived to accompany Ludwig and his cousin, Harald Fuchs, to the instigators of the rebellion. On their way out, they took back Ludwig's beloved sabre the Qadir had taken away and put to the other confiscated weaponry. He was lucky enough it remained untouched by the raging mob. It was the only one of its kind, customly made for Ludwig. Apparently the members of the Crownguard awaited his return, and Ludwig was certain he would support them in any way possible.
Rest in pepperonis Neptune Response: The blue Torrp jumped estatically. This would most certainly benefit the Great Purpose! Yes! These idiots burn themselves! He'd get up, and rushed to Helix's house (@Art16 ) house. The blazing houses filled the sky with smoke, and Neptune took the joy of beating a choking Regalian to death. Soon he himself started choking slightly, and ran faster to be certain the Circci was alright.
~Simon and Cael~ ( @QtheKing ) and ( @JakkDhread ) ( @MonMarty ) Cael wanted no part of the rebellion. Fire Mages throwing their deadly magic everywhere, buildings being looted freely. Usually, this would be Cael's idea of a good time, but something just felt off about the entire thing. Instead, he took rest in Simon's slave quarters. While comparibly cramped to what he was used to, they gave him peace and solace from the world around him. However, it was doomed to not last. Being dragged out of a peaceful slumber was a bad way to start his day. Even worse was the fact that it was by Simon banging on the door and shouting like a marooned sea wench. Rolling out of bed, he founds himself kissing and cuddling the cold stone floor below. With a sigh, Cael rose to his feet, opening the door to allow Simon to enter the room. Filling Cael in on the situation as they stumbled their way to the tavern where, apparently, some of the Kade family was gathered. Doing their best to keep up the usual pleasantries, Cael and Simon expressed their desire to swear fealty to the crown prince as well as the Kade family. A request that Cedric Kade was kind enough to take into consideration. Under the order of the Kade, Cael and Simon took to Cael's original ship, The Dreadnought, and set course for Anglia, giving order that this was a special request that required the crew keep a steady watch over their shipment. Confident that The Dreadnought would be able to out-speed any vessel they would encounter, they wasted to effort in hiding their course. Sailing straight and true for the Axford moor, they arrived well before the course of nightfall. While some regarded the dark ship and crew with unease, they were not the captain's main concern. Instead, the harbormaster found himself surrounded by the Captain's crew. Repeating the words as instructed by Cedric Kade, Cael accepted the cargo presented to him aboard his ship. Ordering Simon and the rest of his crew to load it aboard and to leave it untouched, except for ensuring that it all was secured. This point was highly stressed upon. With eye on the horizon, the crew set their course to deliver the cargo to the ordered Cadar Estate, planning to return well before mittag of the coming day. None-the-wiser about the contents within the shipment and unsure what this unexpected event would cause for the lot of them. However, with the fire returned to their Captain's eyes, they were convinced it would be a moment to remember.
Cassius Thurston was quietly seated on a dock, outside the poor district. He was mostly unaffected by the fires, however, as he spent most of his time fishing on the dock, feeding himself with fish, and trading what extra he caught for the occasional regal he could save for rent. As refugees and such poured past his dock, he would offer what few fish he had in his bucket to those who looked like they needed it the most. He would always have one or two sizzling on the small fish-oil stove he kept with him. Seeing as to his profession, and already poverty-based lifestyle, he doubted that this revolution would affect him greatly. Others would not be so fortunate.
CHRISTOPHER BLACK Ash, smoke and the burning of flesh were the first scents on the wind that reached his nose as the mob burst through the walls of Greygate and set him free. Those putrid scents then didn't evaporate. They continued to hang in the air, getting suffocatingly worse, making his eyes water and procuring for him a feeling of violently wanting to gag. He lifted his right shirt sleeve to cover his mouth as he made his way through the rubble and away from the prison. He looked at the rioters as he passed by them, both in efforts of offering them thanks, but also in a searching, frantic and disorientated fashion. Where were Lidia, his brothers and his sister? Were they safe? He continued to search the streets, seeking them out, as the sheer number of Regalian corpses and the amount of rubble caught his notice. People were whispering that food and medical supplies had been cut off. The city was a cesspool of disease waiting to happen. "Emperor help us all," he thought as he continued to hunt for his loved ones. @Amb, @The_Shadow_King3, @Bounden, @MayItSnow, @Peter Harsk, @KrakenLord01
~=Damian Steere=~ Greygate stood colossus before the band of rebels. Damian stood at the fore front of the rebels who were preparing to storm the prison. His back was still sore from burns he had received from the days prior with the entire inferno that consumed the city. Chalden stood besides him, sharpening his Qadir battle axe. As the mob burst through the gates, Greygate seemed to turn red. Any poor Qadir soul that stood before the mob of Regalian men and women was trampled. He made his way into the prison a Qadir warrior appearing from the corner. Damian quickly slashed at him with his cutlass. He didn't cut through the armor, but he did knock him off his guard for Damian's Tigran shadow to smash against the wall and run through. He lost Chalden when he entered another passageway. A faint sound echoed across the hall, halting Damian in his steps. A familiar voice whispered behind him, "Your getting better at your rescue Steere." A smug grin grew on Damian's face as he order an Orc rebel to break the door down. Damian and Chris walked out of Greygate while it was being looted by the commoners. He hoisted him back home to his waiting family.@Film_Noir @Terence29 @Amb
Searlas Faucheux stood in his workshop, looking out of his window. The elf found the sight of Regalia burning and smoke spreading beautiful. As he walked to the attic to get a bottle of the finest Fauqlemont vintage wine, he walked past a lot of crates full of regal wheat and vegetables. Searlas took another look out of his window, and saw the burnt corpses of citizens lying across the streets as far as his elven eyes could see. Food wouldn't be a problem, he thought. He made his way back downstairs, and poured himself a glass of wine. As people screamed and fires spread through the Holy City, he calmly took a sip of his drink. He was already thinking about his next victim. Searlas felt inspired. @daniel_fre_123 @TheGrimGamer
The Response of Rchkchk Trichk Rchkchk's toes rapped the soft dirt of the park as he woke slowly. Men and women ran by quickly, and he heard them speak. Stretching slowly and preparing for his day, Rchkchk made no effort to translate their common into Ukuiti in his head. Stoooping over his bag, his hands shot quickly into the large leather pouch. Knife, apples, paper, paper, paper... more paper... several leather journals... good. Rchk's thoughts were quiet through the loud noise, and his antenna gently twitched in aggravation with the crowds. He turned on his heels, and watched a small group of Vissi run past him. Before he had consciously made the descion to follow them, Rchkchk had thrown his bag over his shoulder. Then he stopped. They are running from something, and I don't know what it is. Rchk looked up at the rooftops, which could barely be seen through the thick vegetation. I should find out what. His tune out of the world ended quickly, and pieces started to put themselves together in Rchk's head... Fire, Bridge district, Qadir, Regalians, Crowngourd? Is that a fruit or something? Rchkchk shot out laughter from his mandibles, which quickly resorted to twisting into a grin. He began walking towards the bridge district, with a good idea of where it was. His stomach turned, and the effort to retrieve an apple from his bag was unneeded. Rchk tore a small branch from a tree as he rounded a corner, and saw the bridge district. The branch tumbled to the ground as Rchk saw the situation clearly for the first time. Though personally, he would later recognize a mistake made on his part. A group of rebels perhaps? Rchkchk nodded as he stepped through the black skeleton of a home. Maybe a group of Yanars called the Crowngourd started it? Gourds are plants. Yanar are plants. Rchk nodded happily at his deduction as he looked down at a small burnt piece of bread. Or maybe the Qadir lit the fire. Wouldn't rebels have gotten people out? Curious. Rchkchk retreated from the charred and crumbling edge of the city quickly. Buzzing to himself, he found a quiet place, and sifted through his bag until his hands found one of the leather books. Drawing his charcoal quickly from a front pocket, Rchkchk began writing his official report for the incident... Bridge district fire. I suspect a group which I believe to be called the Crowngourd, which may or may not be a bundle of anti-Qadir Yanar... Rchk continued working quietly in his book, ready for the day to begin anew.
Tevic UriomirAfter months of imprisonment in the bowels of the Holy City, Tevic emerged from an open gap from which there used to be an entrance to the sewers. With slight frustration and fear, he walked forward a bit to glance about the ruined city. He gagged slightly as he brought two of his fingers to cover up his nostrils, trying to block out the revolting stench. His eyes beamed from body-to-body as he slowly strolled through the streets, seeing the corpses of men and women, children and elderly, and Qadir and Ailor. He shook his head in disappointment as he finally saw that some people had survived. Hope had gradually filled him as he grinned.
The Fong family sat around a low table in the ship’s cabin. Between the five of them (seven, counting the two baby Fongs) was a soggy report, detailing the recent developments in the imperial city. After worried muttering about the fate of their beloved Chen, and to a lesser extent, the suffering of the common folk, Doctor Fong made an announcement: “Captain, Homeward! Cooks, Overtime! Messenger, Send word to the factory! Tell that ghoul to have things running by our arrival or we’ll have his head!” ~方~ Back in Regalia, an aquatic messenger passed word to a few dockworkers. Within the hour House Fong banners had been unfurled in what had previously looked to be an abandoned warehouse. Strange machines whirred to life. Whatever cheap “food” that could be produced was handed out. Whatever “safe” supplies that could serve the suffering peasants were distributed. Whatever propagandic materials about FongCo’s “benevolence” that could be written were spread throughout the city. The coal-fumes of the fast approaching pleasure barge could almost be seen in the distance. @krurk @Ryciera @millawolf @DrFong
