The Arena Riots ( open, gamewide )

[civilobedience]

Who: The Militia, the city, and you.
What: The Arena Riots.
Where: The Arena, Griss Twist.
When: Newdi, Eliaderen 1. (Monday Oct 1st)
Notes: Companion post for questions and plotting is here.
Warnings: Violence, police brutality, disturbing content and imagery, graphic death.

It's apparent even before dawn that something out of the ordinary is happening. Canton sheriffs are roused from their sleep or pulled away from their work to be told that on no uncertain terms, today will be a day that they do not leave their neat lines on the map. That their individual offices will be responsible for all crime and unrest within their jurisdictions, with no help; the powers that be offer no details, but the creeping feeling in their presence suggests no questions would be tolerated anyway – the implication that they'll all be watched is a strong one. In Mog Hill, Sheriff Norrington proceeds as he always does under such orders. In Mafaton, leadership is stoic but one deputy laughs, sharp and bitter, while the Emissary of the Council merely checks his watch, unseen underground. Sir Hellsing is pulled away from her dinner in the Guild Hall, a Sobek Croix deputy anxiously relaying the news. The sound of shattered glass disturbs the pre-dawn silence in Flyside, a brick hurled by some faceless figure into the front window of Thames – and nothing else.

From the Spire, hooded Militiamen move quietly and uniformly south, to Griss Twist. They are followed by wagons, full of prisoners.

Comments

[amberdrake]

"Am I sure of what?" Amberdrake asks after taking a longer pull from his thermos, "I am a Healer, surely there are plenty more who could use my Gift today... and this is no place to take a rest."

Because no, he doesn't trust the quiet around here, either.

And he doesn't ask who is coming, or how the young man knows. Perhaps he is a mind-speaker? Drake already knows he does something akin to mind-magic, which he isn't particularly worried by.

[gramarye]

"That you're okay... well, okay." Surely Amberdrake knows his own limits. Wolfgang does not, that's why he's here, bloodied in an alley while the city tears itself apart all around him, but other people tend to have more sense than God gave babies and vegetables, unlike Wolfgang.

Whether the Militia anticipated the people taking this without retaliating or whether they accounted for a response on this scale is a question that will occupy his time later. Right now all he can do is wait and see how it turns out.