[TPA] The Pitch Age

[Mugwump]

The sun was just setting over the subarctic city of Tolkdon. It was winter in Ermesh, and a particularly bitter one at that.

It was the night after Josiah Kingsly's reelection to the position of Archmage, and everyone who was anyone was attending his celebratory banquet. People lined up for what seemed like miles at the silver gates of the Archmage's Palace in the Administrative District of the city, despite the frigid weather. The people waiting to enter the palace were of all races; humans, elves, dwarves, goblins, gnomes, and even a few orcs were there to see Josiah Kingsly.

Kind of.

Everyone knew why he or she was there, but it wasn't really to see Kingsly. Rather, they were there to see Kelley Dee.

Kelley sat in isolation in a small room adjacent to the lobby of the palace. He sat in the room, sipping fine strawberry wine, a drink that some Ermeshi would murder for. He kept peeking at his pocket watch.

"Two minutes," he said to himself, referring to the time until he was slated to give his address to the people.

[DeafnotDumb]

It doesn't really matter how he knew where the right room was, or how he got past Kelly's safeguards. The spy's a little too useful at this kind of thing to complain about petty stuff like his preference for unsuitably stealthy entries. At least this time he knocks.

"Not bad!" A small snout appears at the doorway of the room, quickly followed by a scaled little creature in the purple of an Ambassador to - Gothere, was it? The little spy had so many semi-official positions that it was sometimes hard to keep track of which one he was taking on now.

"One of Kingsly's goons was trying to canvas some support." He explained, forcing Kelly to look downwards to hear him. The creature only came up to his boss's waist, at most, and his habitual crouch placed him even lower. The spy smiled and made a clicking sound with his teeth. "So I slipped something silly into that drink of his. Guards threw him out for being drunk and disorderly when he started dancing on the tabletops, though they got to him before he managed to get all his clothes off." Another one of those clicking sounds, and a little snigger. The spy finds an empty chair and vaunted himself up onto it, standing up, so he and Kelly could be something approaching eye-level.

"So, that's the good news, boss. Want to hear anything else? Not that I can do much if you don't even tell me what your speech is." He complained.

[Mugwump]

"Eighty seconds," said Kelley, putting his watch away.

"I suppose I'll open with a prayer to the God of Warmth and Fire. After that I plan to give the usual spiel about the evils of Gothere. Nothing out of the ordinary, save for one thing."

Kelley sat his drink on an end table and stood up.

"Do NOT put cyanide in Kingsly's drink tonight. Change of plans. Old man fell down last night giving his reelection speech. He's in a wheelchair. He'll die soon enough on his own. Less suspicion on our part that way. I plan on announcing my intention to run as Archmage in the election that will follow his death."

Kelley had his hand on the glass doorknob.

"If one of my other assistants, especially Belle Carol, gets here, be sure to have them aid you in your rounds."

[DeafnotDumb]

"Keep an eye out for a blond-haired elf in purple, boss." The creature slips in between grabbing the remains of Kelly's drink and jumping down from his chair, speaking in his fast chattering voice in order to get all the words out in time. "He may try to argue with you during or after the speech. He's a little bit of an idiot, so let him and score some cheap points off him. Stay off the black market when talking to him, though, 'cause that's where he's smart. Good luck." The spy adds, almost as an afterthought, and shrugs.

As soon as the half-orc has left, the spy takes a heavy sip of the strawberry wine in a manner that would be quite painful to any gourmet watching, and sighs softly to himself. "Cyanide." He says softly to himself. "'Course I wouldn't use cyanide. Far too obvious for this job. Would've gone with something subtler, hah."

One last sip to finish off the wine, and Kindle puts it down by the door. Desks were a nuisance, really, and too high up for him to place there, and this way he'd be able to see if the glass got knocked over by someone sneaking into the office to try and flinch something on Kelly. He'd warn Kelly about the glass before he came back in here, too, so he could notice and see if the trick had worked...

Until then, time to mingle. And keep out an eye for Carol, or anybody else more interesting. The little spy headed towards the meat of the party, rushing there to be in time for the speech.

[WhiteKnight777]

Roland

Archmaester Roland Bjornstark, artificer extrordinaire and golden boy of the Ermeshi military-industrial complex, was bored. That, actually, was an understatement. He would have to invent an entirely new taxonomy to describe the depth and breadth of his boredom, and linguistics was not his particular passion.

He hated these events. So many wasted hours talking with people who had nothing to say and took truly staggering amounts of time to say it. He was currently nodding politely to Gunther Stein, the Undersecretary for Victual Procurement. Given the man's girth, Roland supposed he was immensely qualified for his position. He was babbling on about the necessity of a balanced diet for front-line soldiers, plodding over the same ground and making all the appropriate patriotic noises.

It was ghastly dull, and the heat of his rich, fur-lined Archmaester's robes, resplendent in black and gold, was getting unbearable. Earlier in the evening he'd been thankful for their warmth, given the chill of the northern winter, but in the crowded hall it was getting distinctly stuffy. Still, at least the interior lining had plenty of pockets. Roland had been the subject of one too many assassination attempts to go anywhere without a few of his personal protective devices.

as Roland cast his gaze about, his eyes fell on a small figure hurrying through the crowd. Spotting an opportunity, he cried out "Ah! Just the man I was looking for!" He said, and put one hand on the little creature's shoulder. He smiled at the Undersecretary. "You will excuse us, won't you? National security business, I'm afraid." The undersecretary looked nonplussed, but waved Roland away graciously.

He smiled down at Kindle as he hurried along with him. "My apologies for the ruse, sir, but I was going to strangle myself with my own robes of office if I had to listen to too much more. Roland Bjornstark, Archmaester of the Collegia." He said, offering his hand.

[DeafnotDumb]

"Ah, finally. Someone with a title and a sense of humor. Never thought I'd meet the day." The creature says warmly, standing up on his toes in order to effectively shake Roland's hand. "I'm the Ambassador to Gothere, Krys being my name. Pleased to meet you."

The creature sets himself back down, and rearranges his uniform so it doesn't drape on the floor so much and mess with his tail. Looking back up again, he explains: "I'm here for this guy's Kelly's speech. Apparently he's going to slag us off again, and I have to be there for that." There's a self-amused chuckle, and then a shrug. "So, what brings you here?" He asks.

[WhiteKnight777]

Roland

Roland shrugged a little and smiled ruefully. "A title, I suppose, but a working man's appellation. I've not a drop of noble blood - but the powers-that-be find me useful enough, so I get a position at the academy. The benefits are nice, but I could do without teaching rudimentary thaumaturge to bored second sons without an ounce of talent."

He chuckled. "But there's always a price. Which is, of course, why I'm here - have to put in an appearance every now and again to remind the heads of various Bureaus that, yes, I'm still alive and, more importantly, that my lab still needs to be funded. We're more fortunate down in the Military Research division than most, but I still have to compete with any number of other parties for the same coin, and most of them make up for their lack of talent in terms of producing viable research with a vast facility for brown-nosing." Roland's lip quirked up - he was not renknowned for his subtlety. "Which means that it's not enough for me to be successful - I have to come and remind all the appropriate parties that I am."

There was no particular swagger to his words - from his own perspective, he was merely stating facts. "Still, there are benefits. The food's quite good, for one. But still, I'd rather be in the lab. There's always more that needs doing. But, as I said, prices to be paid."

[DeafnotDumb]

"Military research? There's been a lot of that going on recently." Kindle tilts his head to the side and considers this thought. "Sounds like you're in a profitable field, my friend, what with all the tensions flying around." The creature nods towards the place where Kelly's speech should be sounding out right now. "That's probably going to help your funding a bit, no worries. Nothing like a little rabble-rousing to get everybody spiced up about killing each other."

The little creature sighs, and tries to reach for a drink on a nearby table and fails and on account of being too short. He looks up at Roland, and then looks around, and sighs again. "Do me a favor, squire?" He asks. "Table's too short, and all this talking of politics and bloodthirstiness is thirsty work. Get me a glass? And one yourself if you wish, too."

He smiles up at the man, excited, and his tail swishing a little due to his energy. "'Course, it wouldn't be a favor for nothing. If you want, I could always help you out a little with that funding of yours, point out and join in who you should be asking for cash. Vladminder, for example, wants to be known as a sponsor to national defense, so just convince him you're the right guy..." The ambassador looks at Roland with unblinking lizard eyes, with what seems to be a smile on his snout. "What say you, squire?"

[WhiteKnight777]

Roland

Roland nodded genially, procuring a pair of glasses for himself and the little creature. Roland surreptitiously dropped a purification tablet into his own goblet - one of his more advanced designs that contained a chemical cocktail designed to nullify a broad range of poisons and toxins. Never could be too careful these days. He passed the unmodified glass to the diplomat and shrugged.

"Oh, I've never been in it for the money. It's a fascinating field. Weapons research gets a lot of the attention, but the most vital projects are communication and supply" He smiled "As much as everyone gapes over the Wargear suits and armored platforms, I've gotten ten times as many letters from troops about the improved boots or detox tablets. In your average conflict, you lose thrice as many troops to illness and non-combat issues as you do to enemy blades and spells. Military research is a wonderful challenge - trying to find solutions that not only work, but can be mass produced effectively and be used by someone with minimal training, under extreme conditions."

He smiled and waved a hand. "Bah, but I'm talking shop. Probably not particularly interesting to you."

He paused to consider the creature's offer. "I've already made most of my rounds this evening. I should be adequately funded for a time. But perhaps in the future I'll call on you for just such a purpose." He said politely. "Fortunately I enjoy enough status these days that it's mostly a matter of reminding the right people I exist, and coming out with something appropriately flashy every couple of years so that everyone can gawk and I get my name in the papers again." He said flippantly. "I could do without the attention, but it makes the politicians happy."

[Mugwump]

Kelley's speech was winding down. After a bit of slander against Gothere and it's people, he decided to cut to the meat of his speech.

"My dear friend, Josiah Kingsly, had done well to protect this nation during his long reign. We are blessed to have him, but his time is running thin. To continue his legacy, I, Kelley Dee, hereby announce that in the next Archmage election, I intend to run as Archmage."

Kelley looked at Josiah, and after the raving cheering of the crowd, he continued.

"My friend, you didn't start this war, but you made significant progress in the effort. I intend to do your spirit well by finishing it. Gothere will see its ruin, along with the other wretches of this world!"

The crowd cheered again, but Josiah was less than amused. Without so much as a word, he wheeled himself up to the podium from which Kelley was speaking, and seized the microphone.

"My people. I regret to break your enthusiasm, but this man is unfit to rule Ermesh."

Kelley's expression went from a pleasant smile to seething rage as soon as his mind registered what Josiah had said.

The crowd was stunned silent.

[Beans]

[Slave Transport Cell E-4]
Cobalt sat.
The cell's walls, floor, and ceiling were cold metal.
Cobalt sat, seething.
The bars separating her from the narrow hall were cold metal too. The guard's boots would have clanked on the metal floor of the hall, had it not been carpeted with a threadbare and dull cloth. As it was, the clank was muffled to a dull clunk.
Cobalt sat and seethed and would have planned if it would do her any good here.
The small chemical lavatory in the corner of the cell was cold metal as well, which made it even less pleasant to use. The fold-down cot on the wall was cold metal with a mattress hard enough to sunder a blade. The blanket was the only half-decent thing associated with the cell and was duly appreciated.
Cobalt sat, and in her seething she directed her hate outward. Out at the guard and all those like him, and...
The arm attached to her left shoulder was metal, slightly warm due to her body heat.
All seething aside, Cobalt really wished somebody would get on with it and buy her the next time the slavers were selling. Slavers were usually harder to escape from or work around.
And usually housed her in things other than metal. She had enough metal to deal with anyway.

((Anything you want me to change?))

[DeafnotDumb]

Someplace from the direction of Kelly's speech, a sudden burst of cheering sounded out, louder than even before, and reminded Kindle of his objectives. "'Cuse me." He says to Roland. "I got a speech to catch. See you later." He just about makes it in time to see Josiah do his considerable best to ruin the Half-Orc's election prospects. Despite the sheer physical difference between the two men on the stage, this was not a moment where Kelly was looking more powerful or more wise. Kindle would have to do something.

Looking around, he could see that his fellow Ambassador from Gothere was nowhere nearby. "Hells and damnation." The spy growled, soft enough for only himself to hear. Knew I should've slipped something into the old man's drink, knock him out. Underestimated the situation much, Kelly?"

Well, now it was time for the little spy to fix it all up again. But how?

Chaos in general would be needed. And before that, a little something to attract some attention to him, just enough so he could do something dangerous enough

Running wildly into the crowd, the little creature made good use of his tail to 'accidentally' knock his way through the crush, spilling his drink in the process. Even better. Looking a little drunk wouldn't hurt his deceit. The crowd began to murmur as a figure in Gothere purple forced it's way towards the stage, looking both quite incandescent from rage and alcohol, if the ill-grace with which it moved was any evidence. The sheer strangeness of the creature's appearance didn't hurt in drawing the stares either, especially with a half-empty glass of strong wine in his left claw.

"Kelly! He yelled, breaking the sudden silence. "Whoreson of an Orc thinks he can stand there and slander Gothere's good name, huh?" By now, guards were already running to seize him. That couldn't be had. This was supposed to be Kelly's moment. A drunken stumble to the side caused the nearest guard to miss their grab and trip over Kindle's tail, sending them head over heels into the nearby crowd. "But you!" Kindle yelled, flinging a finger at Josiah, while the wheelchair-bound man reacted with surprise. "You're the one who allowed this whoreson to get what he wanted! You're the one whose fault this is!" He snarled, and leaped up towards the stage. "You're the one who started this whole bloody mess by letting him have his way!" He yelled.

If this didn't raise Gothere/Ermesh tensions, then he didn't know what would. And if Kelly didn't know how to react here, Gods save him from the real world.

The crowd reacted with amazement as the drunken aggressor somehow managed to duck the arms of another guard, sending him sprawling in such a way as to land in the arms of another group of people trying to catch the drunken ambassador. By this time weapons ad been brought out and panic was spreading among the crowd, and in the chaos it was quite easy for the trained spy to run nearer to the Archmage.

"This is your fault, Josiah." He growled, the microphone sending his slurring voice booming around the room. "I'll get you!"

The ambassador leaped for the Archmage's throat, claws outstretched, quite coincidentally in a pattern that would allow Kelly to heroically intervene...

[WhiteKnight777]

Roland

Roland stood, stock-still amidst the crowd as the confrontation onstage unfolded. The conflict between Kelley and the Archmage was shocking - but what concerned him more was the sudden arrival of the little creature he'd been talking to. Roland's eyes narrowed in thought - this had the stink of a setup. Why was an ambassador for his own country championing the cause of another? And considering the... man was supposedly standing up for Gothere in particular... well, it reeked of a setup. The question was, who was pulling the strings?

Roland was not a soldier - and even if he had been, he couldn't have made it through the press of bodies. And he wasn't even sure he would've, if he had been given the ability and opportunity. He didn't have much patience for politicians, and to him, one was much the same as another. He found Kelley... disturbing, however. Oh, he was personable, charming, persuasive - when he spoke, it was impossible not to agree with the rationality of his points. But there was something in his eye, in his stance, that was just off. Something strange and mad and just plain wrong. And now this this obvious set-up...

Roland surreptitiously reached into his pockets, producing a pair of oddly heavy gloves, and slipped them on. He clenched his fists and began to slip out through the crowd. Whatever happened next, things were going to get ugly.

[Mugwump]

Kelley grabbed Kindle off of Josiah, but it wasn't to look like a hero.

In the past, Kelley had lost his cool, but it was always in front of a small group of people who died shortly afterwards.

"FIEND! FIEND!"

Kelley threw Kindle into a wall in his fit of rage and madness.

"Kelley? What are you doing?" asked Josiah, legitimately afraid. Kelley picked up the microphone.

"I was deceived! We were deceived! Kelley is a demon from the fiery depths sent to lead us to ruin! I had always chalked up his failure to end the war and his defensive strategy to cowardice and incompetence!" Kelley screamed, raving like the madman that he truly was.

"Now I see! He was intentionally leading us to our deaths! Ermesh is not safe!"

The crowd was beginning to grow frightened.

"Why! Why didn't I look to the future! I abused my heavenly gift! Now God has opened my eyes!" Kelley said in his paranoid tone.

"I must rectify the situation!"

Kelley extended his hand, and a jet of fire burnt Josiah to a pile of ashes so quickly, that not even a scream of pain could be uttered.

"As God's champion, I will seize this nation in my name! Ha ha!"

Kelley laughed maniacally for a few seconds.

"Assistants! Rise!"

Kelley's minions rose, drawing high powered machine guns.

"Kill EVERYONE who is evenly remotely associated with the Kingsly administration, along with any who resists. Everyone else, if you aren't with us, you're against us. FIGHT! DIE! FOR JUSTICE! HA!"

Gunshots rang out, alongside screams and Kelley's evil laughter.

[WhiteKnight777]

Roland

Roland's eyes went wide as he watched, helpless. He felt his stomach lurch, and his face grew pale. This wasn't politics - this was madness. Dee was mad. Nothing else could describe what just transpired. In the moments it took for Roland to gather his thoughts enough to react, the Archmage was naught but a small pile of greasy ash, and the madman's lackeys were drawing arms on the assembly. Roland's hands ducked into his pockets, coming out with a number of small black spheres. He tossed them towards the stage at the front of the room, and the hall began to fill with thick, obscuring black smoke - that would, hopefully, give a few a chance to escape. Roland rushed for the door, on the crest of a wave of panicked people - but even then, the press was too thick. He opted instead for one of the windows at the rear of the building, diving through and shielding himself from the glass shards in the folds of his cloak. He moved out into the snow and the dark. Everywhere, people flooded out into the night. Roland hurried towards his own transport, trying to decipher what just happened.

[DeafnotDumb]

Kindle picked himself off from the floor, staggering a little from being thrown about by several pounds of half-orc. "Oh, marvellous." He said, still dazed. "That's gonna help us save your reputation, sir."

The spy waddled about a bit, trying to look for an escape through the crowd. Remaining with Kelly right now did not seem to be the sane thing to do. Even though the chaos was absolute, the creature's entire job was based around picking out useful information, and the sharp eyes picked out the shape of the weapons developer, Roland something, far too calm compared to the rest of the room. With a jump, the spy started towards him. Someone tried to trample him in their panic, and the spy simply raked his claws to the bone of their leg and spun it to the side, knocking them down, and carried on to his destination.

If nothing else, the man would be a body between him and harm, and might even be something of a good fighter, if he was lucky. And since his previous boss had turned out to be an even bigger madman than expected, it looked like he might need new contacts, especially since Kelly was in the process of killing all his old ones.

It was now that the guards opened fire on the crowds. Screams, yells, panic everywhere. Kindle kept his head low and focused on using his ability to slip between the crowd's legs, focusing on not being trampled: he was too short to get hurt by the machine guns at the height they were aiming, but getting stepped on bore the far bigger risk of being, bluntly, mobbed to death.

Now, this leg looked familar.

With easy practice, Kindle grabbed onto it and climbed up Roland's body, as he'd done to many victims of his unique assasination tactics beforehand. This time, however, he simply hissed into the man's ears. "Get me to transport andlet me drive." He hissed, jumping down. "It'll save both your and my scales if they send anything after us, trust me. If you don't have a ride, follow me. I know a way out of this place."

"And anyway," He smiled, "I owe you a favor for fetching me that drink."

[Lady Moreta]

“Amie, Amie, Amie. When are you going to realise that your experiments are causing more harm than good? If you would simply let me into your laboratory, I could help you – assist you. Why, under my tutelage, you could even become useful!”

Amie folded her arms more tightly across her chest and continued to ignore the speaker. Mage Olman was a proponent of pure magic and was convinced that Amie’s attempts to marry magic and technology were the worst form of sacrilege. Amie was convinced that Olman just didn’t like her.

“I knew coming here was a bad idea,” she muttered under her breath, trying to focus on Kelley’s speech to drown out the words of Olman behind her, who was now expounding his theory that it was Amie’s Gothere heritage that was the true source of all her problems. “This is the last time I listen to you boss.”

Amie’s boss had insisted that she should attend the function, her work was too little known and too little understood, he said. More people needed to be made aware of it. People needed to understand the genius behind the new Ermesh rail system – a perfect combination of magic and technology. Amie had argued the point. She was no good with people; she would rather stay at home, or even better, in the lab. But then Azaemar had joined in, suggesting that getting out and about would be good for her. She would learn to associate with others – people skills, that’s what she lacked. Amie was far too aware of the debt she owed Azaemar to argue with him as well. Resigned to a miserable evening, she had gone.

Screaming and yelling pulled her from her reverie to stare dumbfounded as a small reptilian man threw himself at the Archmage, only to be dashed against the wall by Kelley – who then proceeded to – lose his mind, as far as Amie could tell. She stared dumbfounded as Kelley started screaming. She jumped about a foot off the ground when he shot a jet of fire at Josiah, though the analytical part of her brain couldn’t help but wonder exactly what type of magic he was using.

“Oh dear…” Olman’s voice behind her drew her attention to the sides of the stage, where men with machine guns were rising. Rising and opening fire. Now everyone was screaming. Screaming and running – and still Amie stood where she was – too stunned to move. Black smoke billowed from the front of the stage and someone slammed into her. Staggering sideways Amie was abruptly aware of the masses of people running for the entrance. Unable to avoid them Amie found herself born alone on the tide of panicked people. Someone grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Another grabbed her hand and used her as a ladder to pull themselves back to their feet. Someone stood on her foot and shoved her sideways into a table. Pain shot through her knee as it connected with the hard wood and she went down, catching herself on her hands. Gasping in pain – why did it always have to be her bad knee? – Amie grabbed the table edge and tried to pull herself upright. Halfway there and someone else slammed into her and they both went down. Hands landed on her shoulders and a foot caught her in the ribs as the person used her as a lever to get back to their feet.

“I’m safer on the floor,” Amie muttered, scooting backwards into the meagre protection of the table. Gunfire was deafening, drowning out even the screams of the fearful. A body slammed onto the floor beside her and Amie shrieked aloud. Desperate, she twisted, looking for any way out. The door was completely jammed, some clever person had slammed through a window instead – and between the two a bank of switches controlling the lights. If she could get to the switches, she could trigger an overload in the lights directly above the gunmen. If she could blind them, then it might just give everyone a chance to get out. Gripping the edge of the table in one hand and an overturned chair in the other, Amie pushed herself upwards. Pain lanced through her knee and she swore in elven. Grimly, she started towards the bank of switches, more bodies slammed into her and she stumbled and fell again. Gritting her teeth, she tried again.

[Mugwump]

"YES! I see!" said Kelley, using his precognitive ability.

Kelley didn't like using his magical foresight. It made him a tad mad for a moment.

His reluctance to use the ability was justified, for his maniacal episode was deepening as he paced about the stage.

"Two people at this party will resist my glorious rule!" He shouted, trying to make his presence known above the gunshots and cries of agony and fear.

"One, a man, left, but this half-elven girl..."

He jumped offstage.

"SHE'S HERE! Bring me every girl of elven descent! They shall taste my wrath for even thinking of betraying me! Show yourself, or I'll start killing people!" Kelley said, drawing a concealed rapier.

[Lady Moreta]

Amie was back on her hands and knees on the floor, having been knocked there by some large man from the military if his uniform was any indication. Focused on getting to the switches, she only dimly heard Kelley.

"Bring me every girl of elven descent!"

Amie froze, those word penetrated her single-mindedness and she stared upwards at the demented half-orc. His previous words about people who would oppose him finally registered and disbelief followed soon after. Surely he couldn't mean her? She'd never really thought anything about the leader of Ermesh. He had never created any policies that interferred with what she did, so she didn't really care.

"Here!" another voice cried near the front of the room and Amie watched as two people shoved a struggling and near-hysterical half-elf woman forwards into Kelley. It triggered the crowd, half continued to struggle towards the exit, the other half started staring intently into the faces of those around them, obviously looking for this mysterious half-elf who would defy Ermesh's ruler. Feeling suddenly nervous, Amie tugged her short, spikey hair, for the first time, she wished it was longer.

She wavered uncertainly before deciding that whatever happened, her original plan was still best.

"Screw this," she muttered, pushing off hard with her hands and feet, she lurched forwards. Using her shoulder like a battering ram, she pushed through the crowd til she reached the bank of switches and reached out to it.

OOC: deliberately leaving it vague so others have a chance to jump in

[Lady Moreta]

Ummm... where is everyone? It's been over a week since anyone last posted.

Surely this hasn't died already...