Civil Disobedience

There's a mob of people gathered outside the Soldier's Defense, some of them look ordinary, but others are sporting dark hoods and black clothing. Some are even wearing black masks which it seems are also being handed out through the crowd because there are fewer and fewer faces to be seen as the crowd gathers like a menacing black crowd. The crowd boils, yelling voices can be heard, a thrum of sound that's dangerous in of itself.

The Soldier's Defense of course is not called that for nothing. The Hearthguard are out in number to block the front door but most of those there don't really seem to know what to do with the mob. So they stand their silently and stoically and the crowd grows angrier at them for being blocked. "Down with the Hearthguard!" Someone in the back yells and this gets a riotous reply; the crowd surging forward a bit closer to the invisible line that's been drawn in the sand. Things look like they're about to get ugly soon, and there is only one Guardsman visible. A harried looking individual who quickly introduces himself as Balderdan Viet to those who ask.

Nels is a patient here, but at the word of a mob at the gate, he'll take his rifle up from the bedside and go out to see what can be seen. Though ... maybe he'd be better off seeing it from an upstairs window. He should have checked before he came outside! He checks now, to see if there's an upstairs window he can snipe from while remaining out of the immediate path of the mob? Who's he kidding? If this group turns ugly, anyone who doesn't run away is going to wind up a greasy smear.

Like a shiny beacon, the copper-scale Sith steps forth from the Soldier's Defense, moving to bolster the Hearthguard line. "Peace upon your nests.", Geir intones, in a deep and gravelly voice. "One assks politely that you dispersse. You rissk becoming infected, and one believess that this is counter to your intentionss tonight. Pleasse, move along, and let the doctorss and priessts tend to the sick, wounded and the dying."

The Sith-makar straightens, attempting to appear taller, and continues. "Pleasse, one imploress you to dispersse peacefully."

Mikilos makes his way towards the Defense, enjoying the Gardens. Or at least he was. Spying the crowd of Masks, the mage perks up a little, and hurries closer. He looks tired and worn out, and keeps rubbing distractedly at his eyes. "Alright, so what's this all about?"

Liarora is also here, enjoying the gardens..And attracted by the shouting mob, she pauses a bit, also wondering what's going on. "Hey, what brought this on?" she frowns a bit, trying to peer over the crowds, before trying to get involved.

GAME: Geir rolls Diplomacy: (16)+6: 22

The crowd pulls back a little bit at Geirs words, but they don't disperse. They don't even really look like they're considering it. And unfortunately for Nel's there's no sign of a convenient sniper's perch. Instead there's just a boiling black crowd looking like they're ready to explode any minute. Though... Geir seems to have calmed them somewhat. "We'll leave when they kick all those plague-bearing walking dead out of Alexandria!" The man who shouts that gets a smaller yell of approval than the person yelling to bring the Hearthguard down, but its still an uncomfortable number of people.

In the back of the crowd someone recognizes Mikilos and there's a rising of whispers around him. Several people pull back, but one person tosses an apple at the mage.

To the side Liarora is passed a black mask and the person beside her whispers quietly. "We'll get those rotten people out of Alexandria yet!"

Nels is, unfortunately, one of those rotten people. Though not as rotten as the one he'd gotten the plague from. At least not yet. But he can sort of see their point. After all, - he got infected here. How can he really argue against the people that want the threat gone? Lacking a sniper's perch in view, he will just sort of hang back, think small thoughts, and try not to cough too much.

Mikilos arches a brow at the apple, more amused than annoyed. He's faced down demons and dragons. An apple is barely worth notice. "Now, just to be clear, do you want the infected kicked out no matter what? Or are you okay with a cure? And what are your thoughts on those causing the plague in the first place?"

Geir regards the crowd with wide eyes, the Sith sniffing at the air. "Pleasse. Emptying the city of the infected will not sstop the plague. Thesse people are needed to aid in ressearch. Without the people here, the plague cannot be sstudied. Without sstudy, the plague cannot be beaten. Are Alexandria's citizenss here now offering to aid in ressearch by catching the plague?"

The copper-scale huffs and shakes his head. "One believess not. Pleasse. Allow the doctorss and priessts to do thier jobss. Leave them in peace, pleasse."

Liarora blinks slowly, taking the black mask handed to her more automatically rather than thinking of it. But she doesn't put it on. Truth be told, she had come here to help the injured and sick, and in hopes of improving her own healing skills which are beginner at best but still eager to help. The mention of 'plague' causes her to frown as she tries to slip in closer to the building they are surrounding. "This isn't right, it could be any one of them who were plagued. We should try and help anyone who's sick, not kick 'em out and isolate them!' she calls out a bit louder now.

The murmuring reaches the center of the crowd and it explodes outwards in two regards. The first is that a group of the crowd splinters off, and en masse they start to rush Mikilos. They aren't shouting anything in unison, so it's difficult to tell /what/ they want. There is a lot of 'cure' in what they're saying though and they clearly want /something/ from the mage. In the process of this rush Liarora has two choices - join in, or get pushed aside.

The second regard is that those in the front finally get tired of waiting and start to rush the Hearthguard. Immediately shields go up, and the Hearthguard act as an actual literal shield for the hospital. People bounce off the metal, but they don't seem to care, trying to push and pull their way past the men and women blocking them. This puts both Geir and Nels in the tenuous position of being overrun. If they don't act soon that is.

Nels acts as quickly as he can, to get behind the hearthguard. He's no frontline fighter. He's pretty sure he'd get into trouble if he shot these people, though, and truth be told, it's unlikely he's got enough ammo for a crowd this size. But he can help out a little with his rifle butt, helping defend the Hearthguard's flanks if any of the rioters get too close.

Mikilos sighs, and murmurs rapidly, gesturing. The ground before him shifts, and before him springs up a... a... white picket fence? It's not much of a barrier, not even very far from the elf, but it does make for a little personal space. "Just so we're clear? Violence will go -very- badly for you. I'm perfectly willing to talk. TALK. Don't shout."

GAME: Mikilos casts Minor Creation. Caster Level: 11 DC: 22

"Ssers. Thiss is not a proper coursse of action.", Geir says loudly. "One sshall do one's duty and defend thosse who cannot defend themselvess." As the crowd begins to surge forward, the copper-scale raises a hand and calls out in Draconic. There's a momentary blinding flash of light, and the Sith is surrounded by a holy glow. "By the Grey Ladyss will, you shall not pass!"

GAME: Geir casts Sanctuary. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14

It seems that things aren't going terribly well. Nels' help is deeply appreciated by the Hearthguard whom he's helping out, but elsewhere the Hearthguard's reluctance to actually hurt people isn't going terribly well for them. They're beginning to buckle. It's the sheer weight of too many shoving people. Up at the front a cheers been taken up, overpowering Geir's voice. "Kill the plague! Kill the plague!" What that means in actual purpose is unclear, but things are getting uglier by the second.

In the back several irate people begin to pull up the fence he's created and one or two seem to be hefting them in a threatening manner. And thus threatening Liarora as well. One particularly determined woman actually makes it past Liarora before Liarora can get into place. "Where's your cure mage? Where's your cure for everyone?!?"

Nels isn't particularly keen to hurt people, either, since he's relying on the good graces of the Hearthguards here. On the other hand, he's a goblin and there's only so much he can do. If he was a huge, scary oruch, he could probably make the crowd back down. If -he- tried that, there'd be nothing left of him but a bloodstain on the ground. So he will keep helping the Hearthguard as he calls out, "People! If you attack the Hearthguards, who will heal you when you get sick?"

Geir straightens, and then calls out to the Hearthguards. "Stand fasst, Hearthguardss. Be at easse. Be as a wall." The copper-scale raises his hand again, once more speaking in Draconic. Another bright flash spreads out from him, touching the entire line of Hearthguards. "The Grey Lady blessess all who defend thiss place. Stand fasst. Now.. push!" The Sith will nudge a few of the Hearthguard. "Stand faassst! Now pussh!"

GAME: Geir casts Bless. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14

Mikilos stands firm. Fence posts, that -he- summoned, aren't threatening. Less so weilded by those not trained in the warrior arts. Unphased, he meets the yelling woman's gaze. "Two cups Ferinkle Root, boiled in a quart of water for two hours. Strain, and add one cup crushed Alicvar leaves to the tea. Cold seep for two hours before adding seven drops of Mirclic Oil. Bring to a rapid boil, until the color shifts to brown. Let cool and sit for at least two hours before straining. Dosage is a full glass, or as much as the infected can choke down. Do -not- drink on a full stomach. It doesn't actually affect much, but the resulting vomit will be even less pleasant." Okay, so that's not actually the -cure-... but it is the best working treatment he's figured out so far. It's salty, it's oily, it tastes awful, and the ingredients are a pain to acquire. But most people won't know any of that.

Liarora blinks as she's shoved against, and she pushes back, trying to push them away from those that are standing with the Hearthguard. "Hey, enough of that!" one person against a mob isn't much, but she'll do what she can to support them. She does pause at Mikilos' words and smiles, wondering if any of that is cure for..Something useful at least. "Yeah, there you go. A 'cure'. Take it or leave it."

The Hearthguard heaves and shoves the crowd back, forcing the whole group to retreat. It's enough to give everyone breathing space, but that's not necessarily a good thing. One person throws a bottle at the front door. Bravely one of the Hearthguard steps forward to take the hit for Geir, and the bottle explodes into fire. Immediately the Hearthguard lets out a scream of fear as his armor is set on fire and several people near the front simply make a break for it while the others seem to weigh their options about rushing now or fleeing like the rest.

In the back there is a group forming around Mikilos, a tense group of people who are paying no attention to what's going on behind them. "Where am I supposed to find all that? I'm not a wizard!" The woman yells at Mikilos and she gets a roar of support from those who are held back only by the tenuious desire to not rush Liarora.

"Aren't you supposed to be a wizard?"

"Can't you just /cure/ it?"

"You're the great Mikilos aren't you?"

"BAH HE'S A FRAUD!".

This last really sets the group on edge and finally they break - rushing Liarora to get to Mikilos.

"Step forward, Hearthguard! Close the gap.", the copper-scale calls out, while he steps forward to the burning man. "Down, sser! Roll upon the ground.", he says to the man, using his weight to pull the man to the ground, where the cleric uses his cloak in an attempt to put out the flames. "Call the city guardss. And ssend for help from the templess.", he calls out, towards the Soldier's Defense, in hopes that they can send runners.

Nels is a goblin, fire is second nature to him. Putting out a fire a little less so, but if there's a fire in his smithy, he's got to douse it before the powder catches, so he's quick with emergency procedures. A heavy cloth is pulled from his kit bag. It might be a blanket, though it's rough. What it also is, though, is fire resistant, and he will try and help by wrapping it around the flaming Hearthguard to try and extinguish him.

Mikilos tsks. "That -is- the problem. Almost impossible to get Alicvar this time of year. Dandelions hold some promise, but I haven't-" And then people are shoving and rushing. "Oh for..." He gestures.

FASH-THOOOM!!

Fire explodes above the crowds heads. A swirling maelstrom of arcane power, quite capable of destroying everything in its path. Though so aimed that it only catches a few insects and a very unfortunate starling.

"Violence. Will. END. You. No more warnings." Fraud. How rude.

GAME: Mikilos casts Fireball. Caster Level: 11 DC: 21

Other Hearthguard do as Geir bids, closing the gap while the sith-makar and goblin work to put out the fire on the one who caught the bottle full of flames. The fire is a stubborn thing, clinging and refusing to let go. "We have no reinforcements." This is from Balderdan, yelling over to Geir over the sounds of disturbance. "What of the guardsmen aren't on duty are all in the warehouse district in case this group decides to head down /there/.”

Mikilos however has proven his point and there's not a member of the crowd that wants to take on a fireball wielding wizard! The pickets fall to the ground, the woman screams in fear, and they head for the hills. Their running, and the sound of the explosion catches the rest of the people gathered and soon the whole mob is dispersed; seeking to get away from the fire.

The Sith is momentarily awed by the conflagration above the city, making the sign of the Grey Lady with a hand. The copper-scale shakes his head after a moment, and looks to Balderdan. "Well the crowd hass disperssed.", Geir says matter-of-factly. "Go down to the warehousse district and pull ssome of the guardss here. Block off that avenue there, and we can have a bit of sspace without causing too much dissruption to normal passerss by. Alsso petition the Arcanistss guild AND the Adventurerss guild to send people." The copper-scale huffs. "Thiss has become dangerouss and it musst be addressed."

Mikilos sighs, and rubs his eyes, the conjured fence posts fading away. "I am -so- glad that worked. I really need to invest in some more peaceful crowd control options. I might have had to actually hurt someone." Looking to the guards and people who remain, he inquires. "Is everyone alright?" Looking specifically to the one who caught fire. -Before- he cast fireball, for the record.

GAME: Geir rolls 4d6: (12): 12

Liarora shrinks back as the crowds charge at her, trying her best to hold fast but there's just too many of them and she gets bowled over and thrust to the side. Lost in the crowds, she curls into a ball, doing her best not to get trampled to death. Thankfully, the explosion of fire causes most of them to run for the hills and she rolls slowly to her feet, coughing and wiping the dust off her clothes. "Phew, seem to be in one piece.." she glances over at the guard who was caught on fire but thankfully it looks like he's being tended to.

-End