The dark scheming of the cabal of wealthy aristocrats seemed to be coming to a head, and our party decided that where infiltration had failed to secure a copy of the plans, perhaps a bit of a distraction would provide enough cover for their sabotage attempts.
Assembling in the tavern-cum-hangout of the radical movement known to some as the duck-rabbits Tirias, Herbert Fiddlesticks, and Kerouac (now with a new familiar, George the land octopus) tried to recruit some new allies to their cause. Tiro the Skiro, whose reputation as a folk hero and killer of bad guys was just about balanced out by his nihilism, decided that it seemed fun to join in the mayhem, anything to watch the city burn. Also joining them was a mysterious and tricksy cleric, sworn to a strange god of mischief and going by many names; his motivations, too, were unclear.
Decided on a rough plan, Tiro and Herbert began to raise rabble in the taverns on that block, singing songs of insurrection and reminding people of their day to day horrors, telling them that today would be the day they take a stand! Tirias, Kerouac and our cleric (did he say his name was Ali Gomaa?) decided to take to the sewers and see if they could slink their way to the rendezvous point. This subterranean group quickly encountered a group of sewer mutants; a hasty bolt of radiant energy from the trickster cleric killed on of the mutants, sending the others wailing asking why would you kill our friend like that he was only asking you a simple question?
OK so they weren’t bad sewer mutants, just misunderstood sewer mutants. Feeling bad about themselves, the rogues returned topside in time to find a huge mob facing off against a line of riot police at the border of Crystal Hall. Tiro, nihilist that he is, fired the first shot, taking out the mage in the group with a well-placed arrow, and chaos ensued as rocks and bottles few, nets were fired, and crackling lighting batons met with Tirias’ steel. Herbert threw himself with abandon into the line of police, blasting magical thunder about him, while Kerouac and the Padre fired bolt after bolt of magical flame. Holy crap it was a big fight, oh right and the cops had huge fucking wolves too!
As the line of police broke and the mob began to advance, Our cleric lay unconscious as Tirias struggled silently at death’s door. The others begged Tiro to help stabilize him, while the rogue simply watched the elf’s life slipping away, finally, right before the ranger expired, Tiro tossed over a health potion and brought the ranger back.
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