Open 1 Fall 516AV -- One Regime for Another

Death of the Lord Councilor sparks riots

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

1 Fall 516AV -- One Regime for Another

Postby Net on September 17th, 2016, 6:19 pm

1st of Fall, 516AV

The early morning rays of Syna's reign broke the dark embrace of her nocturnal lover's wall known as the horizon, pushing away her moon-and-stars yet again. There was whispers the night before that the thief from last season has been caught. And at first light of this very day the city would be confronted with both the source of their problems and the source of their supposed salvation. During the night one of the docks at the bay was given a makeover – A singular four-by-four trapdoor was put into the middle of it, a pole of wood extended upward at least ten feet through a hole in the center of the trapdoor. The door was of a unique design, latched in a fashion to keep the two doors shut and locked so the middle gap didn't swing open and revealing the rocks and sea below. Attached across the post was another slab of wood, this one had a chain with several hooks hung from it with a latch system of release.

On the bottom of the chain was attached an anchor. Barricading this monstrosity of human display were the wave guard. Three large men in leather armor. Each held a trident at their left, the tines pointing, unwavering, to the sky above. On their belts were nets or bolas. A few had the weaponry of short swords and fishing knives.

To the right of the pole was a trio of people in blues and whites – Officers of the Navy. Behind them were two more Wave Guards and another man. Aged even older than he already was the Lord Council was bound at the ankles, wrists, and waist with chains and shackles. A look of fear etched his face. As the sky brightened and people came to the docks to trade did one of the officers step forward, “Today is a new beginning. It is the end of a corrupt government, of the oppressive nature of a council rotten to it's core. Today we step forward into an age of new trade dreams, clothed in security and the people of this fine city.”

Somewhere over the bay a small flock of seagulls called out in mockery it seemed as the officer turned and motioned for the guards to bring forth the shackled man. And brought forth he was, a small stool was furnished by the other guard and their prisoner was stood upon the stool and turned to face the people of Zeltiva. There was no words spoke as hooks and chain were pulled to the man and the hooks were slipped into links with in the chains at his shackles, his waist, and his ankles.

“You are hereby been sentenced to death by sea drowning. Your crimes are numerous to count, but the evidence of theft and corruption has been paramount. In the wake of your actions the Tribunal sentences this upon you.” Once more the Officer turned away and walked back to his partners. The two guards bend down and unlatched the door, the stool was at the edge of the doors, not enough though to tear them open and have the chained man drop.

There were cries out from the people of Zeltiva, calls for justice, calls for mercy. The guard closest to the stool kicked it out from underneath the man, the weight of chains and man dropped, releasing the latch that held his restraints to the wood... Chain, anchor, and man disappeared with a sudden cry of fright before the splash of water occurred and the man's sounds were gone to the waters.

This was the breaking point and the people surged, some went forward to go after the Councilor to save him. Others went off in loud bursts of anger, excitement... Rioting.
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1 Fall 516AV -- One Regime for Another

Postby Arcene on September 18th, 2016, 12:34 am

One Regime for Another
1 Fall 516 AV


Stood in the crowd, Arcene observed the commotion. Something - maybe trouble - certainly was afoot. She just had a hunch, there and then, that something was about to happen. Something bad, and she desired to be on top of it. After all, an execution by drowning surely would stir the hearts and minds of many young and old alike, and cause some kind of uproar of those who strongly disagreed with the justice system. Or at least with this very decision, made on this faithful day.

"Justice!" she mockingly buzzed into the ear of one of the attendees, deciding to take a step back before they respond, or things escalate further. Having sunk deeper into the back of the gathered crowd, Arcene stood on her tip-toes, overlooking many a-shoulders to get a peek of what's going on. And then came the sentence! Oh, how exciting! Listening through the sentence, Arcene can't help herself but have a smug smile on her face. She couldn't, and so didn't see a good chunk of it. But she could feel things brewing. All the bottled-up emotions, anger, pride and joy for some - all were released in one eupohoric moment, which was amplified by all the yelling. This big thing couldn't get much worse, so she tried to make way back, to the end of the crowd. She held onto the grip of her Cutlass, getting staggered after having pushed past one rioter, to break out of the angry mob and get behind it.

"By the Gods, what is just going on?" she muttered to herself, checking her surroundings by turning her head left-right-left, Arcene waited for something to happen. There was no point getting into a congregation that big. Not with the current status of events.

She stood back and watched the world burn. Hypothetically, of course. There was simply too many people for her to handle. Stood on one of the docks, she drew her cutlass to be sure to have some kind of leverage on a possible oncoming threat. She kept it by her side, though. But she kept both - the cutlass and herself - on the ready. Staying vigilant was key in this situation. Arcene wondered about just how well the Wave Guard could even hold the crowd.

Observant her dark-brown eyes were, all while her hand was nervously fidgeting and clutching the cutlass in a very jumpy and skittish fashion. She tried not to let the shouting get to her head, but the train of thought was derailed and thwarted every now and then by the loud shouting and screaming. It was getting to her, but she couldn't do much, except analyze the surroundings, looking for any probable near-by winches, or coiled up ropes she could try and put to use to either neutralize the situation - or just escalate it to a whole new level. If one was to look at her, they could see her walking around - almost in a bewildered way as she looked for a winch or so.
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1 Fall 516AV -- One Regime for Another

Postby Loken on September 18th, 2016, 6:37 pm

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'The greatest obstacle and opportunity in your life is yourself'. It was a quote the Ano Cultist had often heard during his childhood training at the Librum of Ahnatep. If you couldn't move past yourself, then that single, eternal obstacle would remain firmly within your path; both set and left there by the one person who could have removed it.

Those were Loken's thoughts as he stood silently within the crowd, quietly regarded the Naval officers words. He nitpicked each and everyone of them to understand the reason for the execution. In truth, he felt that the guilty ex-Lord of Council deserved his sentence. But on the other hand, he was not personally vested in what the Officer had to say, so also believed that the man could be innocent and that this entire show was a coup, of some sort, for power.

He'd only just arrived in the port city only bells ago during its pre-dawn hours, so he didn't muse on the thought of a coup since he hardly knew anything about the cities political standings. With the other half of his attention free, he studied the gathered audience. A good portion of the city must have gathered here this morning, ranged around him in tempered anger or contempt. He locked eyes with a select few people who stood next to him to find out how he should react. After seeing the narrowed eyes of angry people, he perked a brow and started to shift backwards.

He found himself at the back of the group as the sounds of rattling chains, the thud of a body, and sudden gasps of the crowd echoed through the air. Loken wasted no time in drawing his blade from the weapon harness on his back. In his right hand he held the wickedly sharp piece of metal called a 'tiger hook sword'. He stood among the chaos clad in all black, his clothing old but washed clean. The black fabric faded from the care he'd given it. Over it he wore an even darker set of leather armor. It was clear that Loken wasn't a rich man, but too the utmost pride in his personal hygiene.

As the rioting erupted around him he remained as calm as possible. As a marked of Gnora, felt obligated to help bring order to the city. That realization made it clear to him that he needed to aid members of the Wave Guard. He felt his heart beating faster with excitement as he ran off towards the nearest guardsmen in danger.

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1 Fall 516AV -- One Regime for Another

Postby Marcus Chandara on September 30th, 2016, 12:44 pm

On the first of Fall, the sun took its time to gleam brightly, the blinding rays of light all too common in Zeltiva's open sky. Clouds brushed by swiftly, and the good bursts of wind brought relief to those who'd walked a long while. The mist from that earlier morning had settled by then, and the warm undertones of summer began to fade. It saddened those who favored the summer season, who'd miss the snug temperatures and the odd mix of tepid, salty air. For those who enjoyed the fall and winter season, their anticipation would only escalate with the coming days.

As for Marcus, his feelings towards the seasons were equally enjoyable. He didn't mind the heat of summer or the cutting winds of winter. Personally, his only preferences lied in the seasons worth fishing. Which season would profit the most catch? What was a good time to look for bait and buy line? Was his fishing kit too old? When should he spend to get a new one? Should he ever consider adding a fishing net to his arsenal? These were often the questions that circulated his mind.

This particular morning, he had no specific attire that he decided to wear. A loose, sand-colored shirt draped about his torso. His pants were thick and heavy, high-cut to the stomach and stuffed into his boots. The boots sealing off his legs were of well-used, thick material, suitable for wading should he have needed to. The crown of his hair was pulled to the back of his cranium, fastened there with a simple leather tie. The curly hair that blew free seemed to bounce as he walked, the locks swaying to with his body. His fishing pole fell long from his right shoulder, easily able to hit someone with a quick turnaround. Fortunately, his time that morning involved no one, and none called to him out of realization, so his routine was uninterrupted as he made his way to the docks.

After making way to West Street's dock, he unloaded his things and set up camp. Pushing his hair aside, he went to work, stringing the line along the rungs of the rod, one eye closed for accuracy. His left hand held it as his right finely drew it through, both with gentleness and years of experience behind the tugging. His eyes followed the direction of the cord, making sure it fed through correctly.

Once the line was at the correct fishing length for that dock, he wired the remaining and spooled it through the reel, quickly and carefully. Whipping the cord about his head, he circled twice, then let it fly, the baited hook falling and lightly plopping into the water. He slowly sat cross-legged on the dock, keeping his arm in the same place until he was further settled. It was then that he was relaxed, and he let time take its course. Time passed, and nothing caught on. Disappointed, but not surprised, Marcus returned the line, attempted a second time, and waited once more. When nothing continued to take hold, he sat back, pondering whether he'd chosen the right time of season again. It was then that he noticed the commotion taking place at the adjacent dock.

His eyes turned to study the events going on, until his head caught up and his curiosity grew. His gaze spanned the crowd of Zeltivan citizens who shouted and hollered at those towards the end of the dock. His vision naturally turned to whom was being shouted at, and his eyes widened with realization. Reeling in his pole rather hastily, his ears continued to pick up the verdict. Placing his fishing pole onto the dock, he arose, turning to join the crowd that gathered on the dock. His stride quickened with the conclusion of the speech, and his mind screamed for mercy as he entered the assembly from behind.

Pushing past, his heart began to beat faster. He knew what this was about, and he knew what the sentence called for. While he would keep to himself and didn't talk much of events, this was the one thing that he despised of Zeltiva's criminal policies. His breathing cut to quick gasps and he began to bead sweat. 'Anything but this kind of death, no matter the crime! Anything!' he mentally pleaded.

It was the clanking of the trap doors and the screams of those at the front that stopped him dead in his tracks. The sweat ran now, and his stride grew to immense lengths as he shoved himself forward faster! Would one more cry of mercy change their hearts? He had to try! The crowd erupted into chaos by this point, and a shorter woman with blonde hair stood rigid in the crowd. He took little time to process this, and when he bumped into her in attempt to avoid others, his words were sparce and preoccupied.

"My apologies," he began, only to end it there as he continued towards the row of Wave Guards.
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1 Fall 516AV -- One Regime for Another

Postby Net on October 8th, 2016, 1:17 pm

The surge of the crowd forward was met with the wave guard barrier dropping tridents forward, these were unarmed men,women, and children charging them. Arcene would notice that the surge was just the front, those that fled off to riot and loot elsewhere were from the back, splintering off away from the crowd as if they had no intent but to fade into the background.

As the Cultist did his best to get through the crowd that rushed the guards he was being pushed backwards by dock hands and laborers. Mostly in their attempt to break the crowd so they could be the ones moving forward. Loken too would notice the odd splintering from the back, only for a split of a tick as he was once more pushed from the crowd's bigger men, this time towards the ground.

The fisherman, maybe in his blind attempt to provide his loyalty and an attempt to save those that were guilty, was pulled first into the crowd, but much like the Cultist who attempt it while holding sword in hand found himself on the ground far quicker, the crowd's stronger men were dominating the scene, pushing pathways that the smaller and more agile were taking to move forward. He would see the glint of black that stood out among the dock's wood was not far from his body. The shimmer and clanking of steel hitting wood would reveal that it was none other than the Cultist himself.

Arcene from her distance would have the revealing sight of seeing the ongoing situation, even if she was powerless to stop it or unable to comprehend it. Those that got into reach of the wave guards were immediately repelled backwards by tridents, others were being anchored into place by net or bola. Those held from moving were to provide both a message to those behind them and another body to protect the wave guard and navy officers with.

The Admiral stood and stepped forward calmly, “The riots end now. Curfew is to be enforced.” His voice could be heard over the surging waves and people. Yet no one stepped as his commands. If they were wise they would've, for there were more guards coming from behind the crowd, using their surprise appearance, nets, bolas, and tridents to subdue. These guards had far more bolas and nets than their counterparts in front, it was clear of their intent.

“Those with weapons in hands will be immediately detained. Those with improvised weapons will be immediately detained.” Were called out by the crowd controlling guards, repeating their words as they shoved their way through the crowd of those that stood confused and in shock, they were the ones they were left alone.
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