Viva la Revolution!

 

"Well, the Mithran nuns seem to have driven them off," Dakhir reported, lowering his hands and letting the spell fade. From far down the boulevard, he could see flashes of white light, far away, but even at this distance, so bright it was painful to look at directly. 

"The ones that are still alive anyway you cooked so many of them it smells like a fried chicken buffet over by the river," Ricmo replied, impressed. 

"Firing cannon on an unarmed civilian crowd, I am not shedding any tears for them," Freddy replied grimly. "They killed scores of unarmed men, women and children before we interfered."

"The interference was certainly moral," Tello agreed. "However, I wonder what we have interfered IN exactly."

A swirling gale announced Whisperleaf's arrival. He was difficult to see when he took the form of air, but there was enough dust and smoke around to outline the ten-foot tall conical whirlwind that was Whisperleaf. The swirling air centered over the second-story balcony the rest of the group had claimed, then faded as Whisperleaf's elven form stepped out of the center of the whirlwind.

"That's always such an entrance," Dakhir commented appreciatively.

Whisperleaf smiled, bowed gracefully, and then announced, in a satisfied tone, "We won't have to worry about those cannons anymore, nor the troop of cavalry that were supporting them." 

Dakhir nodded in acknowledgment. 

"Tello raises a good point; however, we seem to have stepped into something here, but we have no idea what," he remarked.

"Hullo! Hullo!" a voice interrupted from below. 

Quick and graceful as a cat, Ricmo bounced up to perch on the balcony railing, looking down below them into the street, two pistols ready in his hands.

"There's a priest down here, shouting up at us" he commented back toward his companions. "Young one. Looks vaguely familiar." 

He leaned over the railing and shouted back, "Hullo to you as well! What do you want?"

The priest was young, dark skinned with dreadlocks and had a bookish feel to him. A Mithran cross on a chain encircled his neck.

"You are the companions of The Lightbringer, are you not?" the young man replied. "I remember you. Is He here? We must talk!"

Dakhir sighed. "One of the Companions of Radiant Lightbringer. Not exactly how I would describe myself, but sure, why not?" Whisperleaf grinned in sympathy. "Tello, want to give the young man a hand up?" he asked.

Tello nodded, then called out "A lift for the young man, my friend, if you would be so kind."

Something stirred from an alley around the corner, out of view behind the building. Something LARGE. Before the young priest could do so much as peep, two massive stone hands closed around his waist and hoisted him up to the balcony, setting him down gently beside the Tortle.

"Thank you my friend," The Tortle said gravely. "Now, go and conceal yourself once more."

"Yesss Masteeer," the massive stone form groaned. 

"And none of this 'Master' nonesense," Tello scolded.

"Yesss Tello," the golem corrected and then sunk back into the alleyway once more. 

Tello turned to where the young priest was quietly wetting himself. 

"Fear not; he is a good-hearted creature underneath and means you no harm," Tello soothed.

The priest gulped, got himself under control, and then went to his knees before the Tortle.

"Forgive me, your holiness," he said to Tello. I meant no disrespect to your servant." Still on his knees, he swiveled to face the rest of the party.

"I rejoice at your return, both for the privilege of being in the presence of the Companions of the Lightbringer and in the hope that your return is a preamble to The Prophet's blessed return. May Mithra grace us once again with his holy presence.

The priest fully prostrated himself, face first before the group.

"Waaaaat" Ricmo said in confusion.

"I do recall this man," Whisperleaf replied thoughtfully. "He was one of the group of young priests and nuns that spent all that time talking to Radiant after he had that religious episode of his. Remember the last time we were here, shortly before we met Tello?"

"Well, it looks like Radiant's little sermon had quite an impact," said Dakhir dryly. "Does anyone remember exactly what he preached to them about?"

Freddy shrugged. "Sorry, I wasn't there, remember."

"Oh yeah, you were BUSY if I recall," Ricmo ribbed.

"It was just his usual," replied Whisperleaf. "Give money to the poor. Do good. Be merciful. Love each other. Treat everyone equally. Share.  Basically, be nice. It didn't seem to be anything special at the time."     

"Oh shit," said Freddy. "He told them to LOVE EACHOTHER!!! He told them to SHARE! This could be bad, really bad." 

Whisperleaf looked at him in surprise. 

Freddy continued grimly, "Trust me, that kind of thing can cause a LOT of trouble if people actually start believing in it, or gods help you, actually DOING any of it. Or worse yet, expecting their government to do any of it."

"Really?" Whisperleaf replied, bewildered. "It seems common sense to me. Humans are passing strange."

"Just look," Freddy replied, gesturing at the huge crowd below them surging down the wide avenue before them. Now that the noise and cannon smoke from the battle had cleared, they could make out banners and hear singing. 

Many of the banners featured a stylized flower pattern or the Mithran Cross. 

"Down with the Oligarchs," read Ricmo. "Well, that's likely to cause some trouble, granted. 'Governor Davilia for Workers Rights'. 'Lightbringer is his Prophet.' What does 'Liberte Egalite Fraternite' mean?"

"'Reform the Church'. Oh, hells," moaned Dakhir. "it's a large-scale revolt."

"No," replied Freddy. "It's worse. It's a revolution."

------------------------------------------------------------

Brother Wycliffe was very helpful when it came to filling them in on the current situation in the city, though the politics and interactions of the dozens of organizations and factions of the Republic of Havene were incredibly complex.

As Wycliffe led them toward Maria Cristina's safehouse, Ricmo moved up next to him and began to pump him for information. 

"So this all started because one army regiment was ordered to let another regiment take over guarding a wall?"  Ricmo said incredulously. 

"They are regiments but they aren't ARMY regiments," Wycliffe corrected. That Army of the Republic isn't allowed inside the city walls except in times of war. So far the Army seems to be sitting all this out. No one is really sure of their loyalties, including their commanders."

Ricmo look at him blankly.  

"The Republican Guard are really more like bodyguards, or security forces, for the Sea Lords and the Merchant Houses. They are outside the Army's chain of command and only take orders from the First Sea Lord."

"And the Sea Lords are the Oligarchs that all those signs are about? Like the Vetrini we’ve been having all this trouble with?” Ricmo asked.

"Pretty much. Technically they are the upper house of the legislative branch of the Republic, and also the High Court, but everyone knows they serve the interests of Merchant Houses." 

"Ahh. And then this City Garrison?" Ricmo asked.

"Also not part of the Army, more like a militia. It is technically part of the City of Haven, not the Republic of Haven, so it only takes orders from the Lord Mayor. In theory the Lord Major is neutral but everyone knows he sides with the Governor."

"And this was worth a riot?" Ricmo added, disbelieving. 

"Well, things have been tense between the First Sea Lord and the Governor for months now. The Governor (and especially his wife) are a bit TOO popular, especially with the working class and the poor. The Sea Lords don't much care for the Governor but they HATE his wife, Maria Cristina. It was quite the scandal when he married so far outside his class.

"Hey Freddy, remember her? I bet she remembers you," Ricmo turned back and interjected slyly toward Freddy who was behind him.  

Wyclyffe looked blank.

Freddy pretended he didn't hear. 

"No, do go one," Ricmo encouraged, returning his attention to the young priest.

"They hate her, they hate her lower class background, and are also more then a little scared of her. Everyone knows Maria Cristina is a powerful Mambo in her own right, beloved of Erzulie, with a network of other mambo's and hoogan's in her service. Everyone, regardless of class or religion takes Voodoo extremely seriously around here. And she is politically powerful as well, the force behind this Voodoo youth movement, The Young Flowers. 

And of course her influence with the Governor is undeniably. The Governor's policies have becoming more and more populist since he married her. He has been moving to abolish some of the legislation that favors the Merchant Houses in matters of trade, close the Debtors Work Homes, all this really riled up the Sea Lords. Many believe him to be bewitched by her. 

Then, yesterday Maria Cristina was orating one of her speeches from the Rose Balcony and who should join her there but our Sister Joan, one of the leaders of my own faction, The Reformistas."

"Ahh and you people are the bunch that think Lightbringer is a god, right?" Ricmo guessed. 

"Not a god. A Prophet. We worship no god but Mithras. Mithras has sent Holy Lightbringer to lead his people back to the Path of Righteousness," Wycliffe corrected primly. 

"And you guys want to overthrow the Church?"

"Not overthrow, reform. Though admittedly relations have degraded considerably since they excommunicated us."

"So what does an excommunicated nun have to do with a Voodoo queen?" Ricmo marveled.

"Something of a marriage of convenience I admit. We share several of the same aims, mostly around our devotion to empowering the working classes at the expense of the Oligarchs. The Church and the Merchant Houses have always been thick as thieves, the Oligarchs could not remain in power without the Church supporting them. So we share the same enemy. Also, remember, despite the work of my brethren, many of people of the islands venerate both Mithra and Voodoo, and don't necessarily see any contradictions with that.

However, you do make a relevant point, I do not think the Oligarchs anticipated such an alliance and it likely scared them into taking sudden and potentially rash action."  

"So then what?" Ricmo asked again, fascinated. He had thought the interactions of the various street gangs in Valoria were complex. 

"Early this morning, at the crack of dawn, the Republican Guard officially and legally, by order of the Sea Lords, relived the City Garrison of their duties garrisoning Governor's Keep, which contained the official residence of the Governor and by the transitive principle, the Governor himself."

The Garrison protested of course, but they were outnumbered, the order was most official so they had little other option then to return to barracks.

Since then, the Keep has been buttoned up tight, and no one has heard sight nor sound of the Governor.

The scheme was bold and well executed, and even quasi legal. The Governor is not officially imprisoned or removed he is just... unavailable. However, the plotters failed in one key element, their net did not capture Maria Cristina, as she was not present in the Keep at the time. And she wasted little time in rousing the city to demand the Governor's release. The Republican Guard was well prepared, and set an ambush for the mob she roused, and that is where you came in. May Mithra bless you."

"Wow that's complicated, all these factions."

"I haven't even detailed half of them either," Wycliffe grinned. "We haven't even talked about the Navy yet, or the Holy Orders. And of course the Merchant Houses are not a monolith, they have their own schemes and vendettas one against the other."

Ricmo looked appalled.

From behind him, he heard Whisperleaf laugh softly.

"This is nothing, my young friend. You should see an Elven Kingdom, and what happens when you have a thousand years to fight over status, and to work your intrigues."

“We have arrived,” Wycliffe announced.