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Post by Stix on Feb 9, 2008 13:37:51 GMT -5
(Bleaker insanity roll: 20)
After finishing his daily duties early (feeding every barmy in the wing at least three of their two allotted meals and finishing six hours' worth of studies in the space of three), Hadrian finds himself restless.
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Post by exile on Feb 9, 2008 16:30:18 GMT -5
A listless grey light filtered in through the bars of Hadrian’s window, casting the room into mottled shadows. He was pacing back and forth across the empty floor of his small cell as he had been for nearly an hour. His thoughts were racing, each one blurring into the next before spiraling out of his grasp.
Hadrian could hear them outside, lines of derelict souls calling out to him, begging for succor. They were always there, staring with their tired, sunken eyes, but today he could feel them reaching to him. They were practically in his pulse now, each beat of his heart pulling and clawing until he felt likely to tear asunder.
”There are too many,” he announced to no one in particular. ”And we haven’t the space to tend to more than a handful.”
Abruptly Hadrian stopped, and spun about to face his cot. Kopek was sleeping quietly in his heaped up sheets. Crossing the floor in two quick, determined strides he seized the black cat beneath its forelegs and raised it up before his eyes.
”There’s no space left in this bloody quarter. Even the shanty towns are built on stories.”
Kopek offered an unhappy grumble by way of response and tried to wriggle free.
”No space…” the Bleaker’s attention had receded back into the depths of his diseased mind now. A new idea had formed, one that he could barely hold on to amidst the clamor in his mind. Unnoticed by Hadrian, the cat had managed to squirm free and was presently rebuilding its nest of blankets.
The slags. He could see the wasteland of the Hives clearly in his thoughts.
”Its time we take them back,” Hadrian’s voice had reached a fevered pitch. Throwing open the door to his cells he continued to call out. ”Brothers, sisters, we are taking back the slags! And from the waste we shall rebuild!”
Reaching for his pack and spear, Hadrian fought desperately with his robes in his haste to make ready.
”Oh yes, what things we will build!”
The cells of the Mad Bleaker wing flew past on either side as Hadrian careened down the corridor, his own room left open and neglected in his wake. Spilling out into the great, gated antechamber where the destitute thronged while awaiting whatever charity could be meted out, the cabalist nearly collided with a dour faced human taking down names on a registry. The normally soft-spoken aasimar could scarcely see the man in his current state however; indeed he could see little aside from his goal now.
Passing out beneath the great gates and on to Bedlam Row, Hadrian drew himself up and planted his spear firmly at his side like a banner post. ”Friends,” he called. ”Cutters. I offer you a chance to take a hand in your own salvation. The high-ups have forgotten you, they care nothing for your suffering. All they care for is the jink the taxman can claw from your families, and how does it better us? Where are the Harmonium to patrol our streets? Where are the jobs we are promised?
“No. The time has come for those who call kip in the Hive to take back control of their own affairs. Today we go to take back the slags for the Hive and all of her children. We will build homes, we will build almshouses, we will have honest work and honest pay. But I need your help now. Alone, we are lost. Together,” He paused, relishing the moment. ”Together we are steel. Who’s with me?”
The aasimar gazed out over the startled crowd with a terrible zeal in his eyes.
Diplomacy roll (if needed)
[dice=20+9]
Edit: Added the bonus wrong, should have been +12. Don't know if that makes a difference. [rand=1121515928864642972223901537177395856582075710678429374121365302]
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Post by Stix on Feb 12, 2008 12:57:58 GMT -5
The Gatehouse entry line onlookers watch Hadrian as he speaks. Some are too far gone to acknowledge him or reply. A few regard him only with contempt. Most have a blend of hope in their eyes and fear in their hearts at the prospect of making something out of so wrecked a place as the Slags.
"I'll go with ye," the nearest defeated-looking sod volunteers, scrambling to his feet. "Anywhere's better'n starvin' here."
"'m comin' too," says a hoarse voice, and a rough-looking tiefling makes his way to stand by Hadrian's side. Two more bedraggled indigents follow him.
Closer to the great gate, a young couple begins bickering in hushed tones. (Listen check to eavesdrop, if you like).
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Post by exile on Feb 12, 2008 16:18:53 GMT -5
”Excellent,” Hadrian remarks as he turns to regard each of the volunteers in turn. His pleasure at the response is clearly written across his features, it didn’t seem to matter that his call to arms had stirred only a handful of roughnecks and paupers. To his eyes each man who had offered to stand beside him with naught but their conviction (and quite possibly misguided belief) was more worthy than a phalanx of soldiers.
”Together we shall do great deeds.” It was a statement that abided no discussion. These as yet unknown deeds were certain, only their timing could be called into question.
The aasimar’s gaze had alighted on the quarreling couple now and he squinted, trying to follow the course of their heated words. Perhaps another recruit was waiting in the wings. ”Will no one else see the virtue in our cause?” he asked.
Listen check:
[dice=20+3]
(OOC: Two consecutive rolls of 3 out of 20, eh? The fates are conspiring against me on this thread.)[rand=7496182430211994732176698937628521407169166826730690081380869433]
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Post by Stix on Feb 14, 2008 19:48:25 GMT -5
The squealing wheels of a passing wagon drown out the couple's fevered conversation. The man in line points wildly toward Hadrian, and the young woman -- pale, with weedy hair and a drawn face -- summons some strength to give him a shove. She stomps away, heading directly for the Bleaker. The other follows a few steps after, quite piked off, and both come to a halt a few steps away.
"Lead on," says the tiefling, expectant gazes locked on the Bleaker.
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Post by exile on Feb 14, 2008 23:46:19 GMT -5
”Right then, cutters,” Hadrian spoke with absolute assurance and offered a curt nod in acknowledgement of his troops. Pausing for a moment to take in the details of his followers faces, he felt a long quiescent ember in his soul spring back to life. For a moment it sputtered against the howling winds of his psyche and then took hold of this newest kindling with wild abandon. Here again was a Hadrian that had lived on only in dreams.
Hadrian, the soldier. Hadrian, stormrider. Hadrian, son of Odin.
”Let us write our names in the histories and let every man know who stepped forward today and rattled the Cage.” Turning sharply on his heels, the aasimar plunged off into the rapidly receding crowd with grimly determined strides. His eyes blazed like sapphire suns but even so, they paled before the roiling flames that leapt in his heart like a flight of Phoenixes.
As he walked along the rainswept cobbles of Bedlam Row towards their destination, he addressed his men in earnest terms.”I am Hadrian, son of Odin, warrior of Ysgard.” he announced. ”And today, for this moment, I put aside my faction and adopt you all as my brothers and sisters in arms. Tell me of yourselves, I would know my kin.”
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Post by Stix on Feb 16, 2008 16:12:41 GMT -5
(Continued in the Hive Ward Streets.)
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