!¿Viva la Revolución?!

Posts : 1428 Join date : 2008-08-22

Nicholas looks down at the rapidly-evaporating form of Captain Piper at the Gates of Eternal Damnation. All that remains of her is sulfurous vapors and her helmet; a pitted, wrought-iron thing fitted with a Prussian spike and the Horned-General's pentagram insignia. Palpable waves of Infernal nationalism radiate from it, like the heat from a furnace burning souls.

Her summoners are either dead or vanished OOC: 1 got away via Teleport, another by Dimension Door. The front of the warehouse you firebombed as she was being summoned into it still burns; but not a badly as expected given the rotgut vodka used in your makeshift 'arsenal of liberation' works much better as an accelerant than a libation.

The fire's tardiness might have something to with the summoning ritual used, which manifested as a indoor tidal wave of Aster water. Right now the front of the building is burning fitfully. Little smoke comes from inside. It's unclear if the fire will spread to the adjourning flammable-liquor warehouse, or the ramshackle distillery next to it. You could take a 'wait-and-see' approach. Or a 'do something now' approach. Or perhaps an 'out of sight, out of mind...'

Maybe the warehouse itself will shake off its coat of flames, sprout legs, and lumber off in search of revenge against it's disfigurers. After all, it's been doused by a Aster wave carrying a demon in from the Hells. A vengeful warehouse is clearly within the realm of the possible.

Which would also be bad --worse than fire? A metaphysical question. 'Whether 'tis ignobler in the mind to burn than suffer the bludgeoning and splinters of an angry building'-- ahem, would be bad for the 150 modestly-armed, would be revolutionaries packing Troika Plaza, still shaking off the effects of Captain Piper's enchanted command to "FOLLOW HER TO VICTORY". Even recalling her words causes a momentary desire to submit to her... orders.

Your remaining 150 or so comrades-in-discount-arms are split between Gaspar Guttmann's warehouse/office and the distillery where the Port's worst Dragonborn Imperial Vodka is... refined? That suggests the removal of impurities, which is most assuredly not the case. Smaller, ready-to-throw casks (pret-a-jeter-violemment?) are being seized. Larger barrels are being broken open to fill bottles. And mouths. Let's not kid ourselves. White Dragonborn Bob's inside, doing an admiral job keeping the people on-task, but he's no miracle-worker OOC: unless Max rolls a natural 20. And word of fire next door is starting to spread inside the warehouse, which slows the booze-looting and is creating a press for the door.

In the crowd outside, Young Armand Rum, sober as a member of a different family, and armed with both a fou-fou elven rapier as well as half a dozen vodka firebombs made from borrowed, trash-picked glass bottles, siddles up to Pogsley and Lizzie. "What next?"

From up the street a small band of armed guards approaches. One bellows, "Lady Saebelia Rum would speak to you."

"I see you've got my sister's attention. This should be interesting."

Posts : 799 Join date : 2008-08-21

"Interestin' indeed, I wager," Nicholas mutters. He hooks a foot into Piper's helmet and kicks it spinning into the air, so that he can catch it by its spike and offer it to Pogsley. "Ye seem to me to be the sort of fellow who might need a damned hat," he explains. "In the literal sense, that is."

Raising an eyebrow, he turns to Armand. "Would it smooth things over, d'ye think, if we put the fires out?"

Posts : 1428 Join date : 2008-08-22

Rolzup wrote:: ... so that he can catch it by its spike and offer it to Pogsley.

The helmet's spike is slightly malign to the touch. Also, warm.

Quote :: Raising an eyebrow, he turns to Armand. "Would it smooth things over, d'ye think, if we put the fires out?"

"On one hand, the loss of Guttmann's vodka would be a great service to the Port. Not to mention a kindness to the livers of her poorest tipplers." replies Armand.

"On the other hand, my sister lives right up the street. So 50/50, I'd say."

OOC: One of the nearby buildings is the distillery, and the Rumcastle's fire codes are the strictest in all the Port. There likely something inside to fight an industrial fire with. It's not like this shit doesn't go up on a fairly regular basis.

edit: you need to decide on a target for your firebomb-equipped mob justice. I recall 2 possible targets being mooted; the grain-hoarder (Armand's uncle Jacobin Bombastus "Jack Blast" Rum) or the deeply unloved-because-he-experiments-on-citizens local Magistrate (Lord-Doctor Bartholomew Choke), currently holed up in Lord Rum's Castle.

Posts : 900 Join date : 2008-08-22

Rolzup wrote:: "Interestin' indeed, I wager," Nicholas mutters. He hooks a foot into Piper's helmet and kicks it spinning into the air, so that he can catch it by its spike and offer it to Pogsley. "Ye seem to me to be the sort of fellow who might need a damned hat," he explains. "In the literal sense, that is."

In their long, long history in the Port, the Pogsleys have resisted the insidious forces of genocide, hygiene, birth control and education, but they've never ever been the sort to turn down a really interesting hat.

Pogsley gladly accepts the spiked helmet from Nick and plops it down on his head.

"Mmmmm... toasty!"

Rolzup wrote:: Raising an eyebrow, he turns to Armand. "Would it smooth things over, d'ye think, if we put the fires out?"

Mallus wrote:: "On one hand, the loss of Guttmann's vodka would be a great service to the Port. Not to mention a kindness to the livers of her poorest tipplers." replies Armand.

"On the other hand, my sister lives right up the street. So 50/50, I'd say."

Pogsley strokes his chin as he addresses Nick. "If you can do it fast, sure!"

Mallus wrote:: edit: you need to decide on a target for your firebomb-equipped mob justice. I recall 2 possible targets being mooted; the grain-hoarder (Armand's uncle Jacobin Bombastus "Jack Blast" Rum) or the deeply unloved-because-he-experiments-on-citizens local Magistrate (Lord-Doctor Bartholomew Choke), currently holed up in Lord Rum's Castle.

"What am defenses like at Rum Castle?" Pogsley asks Armand. "It one of those stone castles? Poglsey hate stone. Very hard to make stone burn. Maybe if we had some Dragonborn tools...."

Posts : 799 Join date : 2008-08-21

Nicholas shrugs. "Arr, well, I can try, to be sure. I'll leave the lady to you, then." Wheeling about, he claps his hands sharply,the sound carrying over the sound of the flames rather better than it has any reason to. Nicholas moves forward at a steady pace, clapping his hands in a complex rhythm as he approaches the burning building.

The enormous puddle of Aster water is quivering, jumping a little each time Nicholas brings his hands together. And when the pirate begins to stomp his feet to an entirely different beat, a counterpoint to his clapping, those jumps dramatically increase in height. Another few steps, and the sounds of stamping and clapping merge into a continuous rumble, not at all unlike the sound of a pounding surf.

The puddle surges, twists, rises up into a shimmering wall of liquid that flows over the burning wall. Nicholas whistles sharply, and brings his hands together one final time. The water, with an audible *snap*, freezes solid.

OOC: This is what he can actually do:

As an action, you can spend 1 ki point to choose an area of ice or water no larger than 30 feet on a side within 120 feet of YOU. You can change water to ice within the area and vice versa, and you can reshape ice in the area in any manner you choose. You can raise or lower the ice's elevation, create or fill in a trench, erect or flatten a wall, or form a pillar. The extent of any such changes can't exceed half the area's largest dimension. For example, if you affect a 30-foot square, you can create a pillar up to 15 feet high, raise or lower the square's elevation by up to 15 feet, dig a trench up to 15 feet deep, and so on. You can't shape the ice to trap or injure a creature in the area.

I'm assuming that there's enough water to pull this off. If I'm wrong, let me know and I shall amend.

Posts : 1428 Join date : 2008-08-22

gridley wrote:: "Mmmmm... toasty!"

At first the helmet is too big for Pogsley's head. It drops over his eyes, filling them with visions of grotesque soldiers wreathed in flames. But it quickly adjusts until it fits awkwardly on his child-sized skull. It's quite heavy, and balanced so poorly it seems just about to fall off. But it doesn't. He has the unpleasant feeling like it's reaching down into his soul. The strains of popular human song from one of their political musicals pops into his head: "Getting to know you, getting to know all about you...".

OOC: if you had to give Pogsley an alignment, what would it be? And is he a paladin of Treasure? I guess I should give her an alignment, too. I mean, other than 'pig'.

Quote :: "What am defenses like at Rum Castle?" Pogsley asks Armand. "It one of those stone castles? Poglsey hate stone. Very hard to make stone burn. Maybe if we had some Dragonborn tools...."

"Lord Rum's Castle is a proper fortress. High walls, battlements, towers, the whole five fathoms" says Armand. "The original Lord Rum took it from the naval garrison stationed there. According to legend, and my bedtime stories, he marched right up and cut a hole in the outer wall with the big sword he got from the Lady of Maiden Lake. 'Course they patched the hole since then."

Armand appraises the mob for a moment. "Those vodka-bombs and nail-boards won't do much to the Rumcastle. Maybe start a few fires in the storage sheds if you lobbed some over the wall, and that lot -- he points at your mob-- would be 99 bottles on a wall lined up for the castle's defenders. Unless you got the gates open. They're shouldn't be too many guards inside. My family's people cleared out. Just Lord Choke's personal staff and the Billy-Trolls. Can't be more than 10 of them. Of course, each ones about 10'' tall."

"The right Dragonborn machinery would make short work of the walls. And the people inside. But where could we get our hands on that?"

Posts : 1428 Join date : 2008-08-22

Rolzup wrote:: I'm assuming that there's enough water to pull this off. If I'm wrong, let me know and I shall amend.

There is a sufficient amount of Aster-stuff still conceptually similar-enough to water inside the burning warehouse for Nicholas to try his trick. He prances and claps and it obeys him; a thin layer of ice rapidly spreads up the inside of the front exterior wall where the fire is most concentrated.

OOC: roll a d20 and add Nicholas's WIS and prof. bonuses.

edit: also, since Nic's inside, roll me a d6. Don't roll a 1...

Posts : 799 Join date : 2008-08-21

OOC: Rolls....

That's a 27 and a 4.

Admin Posts : 759 Join date : 2008-08-21

The member 'Rolzup' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'd20' : 20

--------------------------------

#2 'd6' : 4

Posts : 1428 Join date : 2008-08-22

Nicholas's fancy ki-empowered ice-jig completely extinguishes the fire. Also, the warehouse doesn't turn into a giant animated object trying to bludgeon him to death.

Cries of "the fire's out" spread through your makeshift army. Attempting to flee the adjacent warehouse turns back to booze-looting as White Dragonborn Max tries to ensure the majority of the Guttmann's Imperial ends up in improvised incendiary devices.

OOC: now that the fire's out, how long are you going to spend making Mazel Tov Cocktails?

Posts : 900 Join date : 2008-08-22

Mallus wrote:: OOC: if you had to give Pogsley an alignment, what would it be? And is he a paladin of Treasure? I guess I should give her an alignment, too. I mean, other than 'pig'.

OOC: Pogsley is Chaotic Good. He is a Paladin of Revolutionary Socialism.

(He has embraced Treasure as the goddess of the goblins and to some extent a symbol of the revolution despite Lizzy's talk about opiates and masses. But his paladin powers are based in some partially understood notion of violent insurrection against the rich).

Posts : 1428 Join date : 2008-08-22

gridley wrote:: OOC: Pogsley is Chaotic Good. He is a Paladin of Revolutionary Socialism.

OOC:Ah yes, the Oath of Dialectical Materialism. Cool. Now I have to figure out what alignment Communism is...

IC: The Hellmet begins muttering into Pogsley's brain like Mephistopheles with a sock in his mouth; devilish whispers just on the wrong side of intelligible. Briefly it sounds like a sea shanty sung by sailors being dismembered. Pogs has the sudden desire to go for a swim.

Disappointingly, the Hellmet doesn't seem to do anything else. On the bright side, the Hellmet doesn't fall off. Or fire iron tendrils into his skull to anchor itself.

The squad of Lady Seabelia Rum's guards who delivered her invitation to talk take a good look at Pogsley in his Hellish haberdashery, then to the mob loading up, in more ways than one --none of which are good from a public safety perspective-- on freely-flowing Dragonbon Imperial vodka (110 proof, 92 octane) and decide prudence is the better part of right now and back away the way they came without waiting for a reply.