The Vienda Riot of 2718

Hot temperatures. Hotter tempers.

The capital city of Anaxas and the seat of the government.
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Thu Oct 18, 2018 11:04 am

25th of Yaris, 2718
THE VIENDA RIOT OF 2718
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Just outside of the gates, leading to the city of Vienda, a grand occurrence was about to start. Something bold and bright and beautiful. Something lighthearted and thrilling, to capture the hearts and minds of young and old, rich and poor alike. If one was to wander into the large grassy lot, they would be met with hanging lanterns and a small collection of side-alley stalls selling various fair foods and chance games. There were people everywhere, wandering amid the stalls or spending time chatting to each other, all eagerly waiting for the great blue and gold curtains of the huge main tent to open and allow people inside. It smelt of onna-stick and popped hot-corn, as well as the naturally earthy smell that came from many feet on grassy ground.

It was the circus’ opening performance.

If anything could be said about today, it was that the temperatures were not at all conducive to having a crowd of people from various walks of life crammed into a tent. It was a breeze-less, humid Yaris day, and even with the aid of hand fans and in some cases magical encouragement, it was hot. As people walked around the pre-show entertainment, the circus troupe themselves worked in the backstage area nervously preparing themselves. Taegan was dressed in a garish almost mockery of Baldur’s ringmaster outfit, standing beside the huge blackback, quietly speaking to her in hushed tones and feeding her tidbits of something delicious and meaty. His blue eyes were accented by stage make up, and his blonde hair was perfectly coiffed. Not that far away from the chrove tamer, Dorian stretched carefully, his own outfit little more than a pair of breeches and a lot of shimmery paint. The sword swallowing, fire breathing contortionist made movements that seemed beyond humanoid comprehension, all the while bantering gently with Taegan.

“Not long now, not long now. Everyone remember their cues? Winslow, put out that clocking cigarette.” The old clown narrowed his eyes for a moment at Baldur, before grunting and dropping the rolled tobacco in the dirt to stump it out with one toe. From the band, who had set themselves up slightly offstage where they could still see the action, Kellie-Mae giggled and shook her head at the man. He winked at her, dressed in oversized pants held up with brightly mismatched suspenders and huge oversized shoes. His grey hair stuck out wildly at the sides and top, and his old leathery face was painted white with a big red smile and shiny red nose.

“Here now, come closer, all of you.” Baldur said with a smile, gesturing at his group to move closer with wide arms. As they drew in, he would bow his head, eyes closed and hands clasped around his tophat. As they stood together backstage, heads bowed, the balding stout man recited a quiet prayer to Alioe. Taking a deep breath, he smiled at the crew he called family.

“Right. Time to let them in.” He said to those who managed the ropes and pulleys that opened the main entrance. The band began a soft tune, drawing the attention of the audience enjoying themselves in the pre-show entertainment. Heads turned, and feet moved, the guests following the dim lights leading them inside to their seats.

The show was about to begin.

Off Topic
Welcome to the Vienda Riot of Yaris 2718!

This riot mostly takes place in the Dives and outside of the walls of Vienda proper, but it does spill over in some places into Uptown and most of the capitol city. What begins as a tribal dispute soon explodes into a huge wave of looting, violence, and expression of discontent against galdori oppression from all of the lower races (and probably even a few galdori, too). This is an opportunity that many folks take advantage of, including the Resistance.

The Riot will last from Yaris 25th-30th. It will eventually overwhelm the Seventen and the King and Queen agree to call in the Anaxas Armed Forces (the AAF). Quickly and efficiently, mostly through the use of magic (something that perhaps the Seventen were hesitant to overuse), the rioters are squashed, the prison becomes overflowing with arrested participants, and on the 33rd of Yaris, several people are hung in public view.


As players, please feel free to write your own separate threads participating in the Riot. If you'd like moderator threads, feel free to ask. Title all of your participating threads with [Riot 2718] before your title, and if you wish to use the tagging system, please make sure to add the tag Riot 2718.

Don't hesitate to ask questions via PM or on Discord! Have fun! Don't die!

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Thu Oct 18, 2018 11:05 am

25th of Yaris, 2718
THE VIENDA RIOT OF 2718
T​​he scorching heat of the dry season had settled heavily over the city of Vienda, cloying cruelly even in the shadows between buildings and baking against the decorative cobblestones of every open marketplace. Crosstown Court was like an oven, one could probably fry an egg on the dirty streets of the Dives, and not even the breeze that occasionally wafted from the Arova River seemed to bring any relief. Yaris saw the largest influx of nomadic wicks into the area, for many of them used the season to stock up on supplies for the coming cold and secure work in the fields to the south in Brayde County during the harvest that was just around the corner in autumn.
​​
​​While the Surwood Isle wick festival was one of camaraderie and setting aside old feuds, there was something about the capitol of the Kingdom of Anaxas and being under the watchful gaze of the Seventen that often brought out the worst in the otherwise forgiving in jovial wick population, especially among the nomadic tribes. The tsats didn’t really want them there, it was true, and so it was usually during this most excruciating time of year that tensions were high throughout Vienda, especially in the Dives.
​​
​​Today began like any other, with vendors of all kinds competing for their spaces in the bazaars and squares and crossroads within the lower half of the city, though each tribe had their preferred territory, sections of town and the markets that were traditionally held as specifically belonging to their people no matter who got there first or how much it was in the shade for the worst part of the afternoon. It was an unspoken rule, and one that was rarely broken—
​​
​​”Dze, that ent yers t’ set up in, ye chen.” The old woman hissed, pointing to a groove in the cobblestones in the half-light of dawn. Her dark eyes narrowed as she glared at the young wick across from her who was setting up his cart of hand-woven baskets out of decorative thread and vines, a yellow scarf keeping up his thick locks of dark hair,
​​
​​“Ora?” The young man smirked, arching a brow as he glanced where the witch was pointing, hands on his hips, “It’s only a couple o’ fingers’ off. Who cares? I ent in yer space.”
​​
​​“Yer too close, boch. I ent want ne a Yellow Eye scarin’ off m’ customers.” Spit the woman, rolling her eyes as she shoved her cart of loom-woven scarves and bags and clothing another few inches away into the space of her neighbor who was across the street conversing with a friend, totally clueless.
​​
​​“Havakda. Like anyone will even know.” Grumbled the young man, whispering a few other Deep Tek curses at the Red Crow under his breath, certain she couldn’t hear him anyway.
​​
​​The bazaar would be full in another few hours, other wicks trickling in with their wares and shoppers showing up in the early houses before the heat really settled in, stealing the breath and baking the fresh produce into useless spitch. Would a foot or two of invaded space really make a difference? Only time would tell.
​​
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Thu Oct 18, 2018 11:08 am

25th of Yaris, 2718
THE VIENDA RIOT OF 2718
In the great blue and gold tent, people took their seats, muttering and talking quietly whilst smells of fair food filled the dimly lit area. In the centre of the bleacher seating was a large packed dirt circle, surrounded by a decorative padded wood barrier. As the visitors waited, the lights would start to dim more and more, until suddenly it was pitch black in the closed venue. The crowd quietened, an atmosphere of curiosity hanging in the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” A voice boomed from the darkness, before quite suddenly a single solitary spotlight flicked on to a figure standing in the centre of the ring. Baldur stood, resting his hands on his cane, tophat sitting firming on his bald head. He smiled up at the audience, turning slowly and spreading his arms wide as if to welcome them all.

“Ladies and gentlemen, greetings on this fine Yaris day! I hope you’ve got yourself a bite of food and a cool drink from the wonderful vendors outside, and you’re comfortably settled because ladies and gentlemen, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for!” He grinned at the crowd, grasping his top hat and tilting it theatrically.

“Allow me to introduce myself, I am Baldur and this is my circus. For those who haven’t seen a circus before, well my friends you are in for a treat!” Moving suddenly, the round man ran to the edge of the ring and jumped up on the barrier, pointing over the audience with the rounded handle of his cane.

“Even if you don’t realise it yet, this is the moment you’ve waited for. Prepare to be amazed, delighted, surprised and even moved tonight! We have acts gathered from all over Vita to share with you tonight, some of which have never been seen by anyone else. You are the first! How is that for entertainment!?” He ran to the otherside of the ring, the spotlight following him crisply. Jumping up on the barrier, he pointed to a well dressed galdor with a similar tophat in the audience.

“You sir, that is an excellent hat. Good to see Vienda has some taste.” A small murmur of a laugh came from the crowd, before Baldur jumped down and strode to the centre of the ring.

“Ah, but enough from me. You came to see a show! So let’s have a show shall we?!” He held his hand to his ear, as though waiting for an answer. A few children in the audience called out a small ‘yes!’, much to Baldur’s false disappointment.

“Come on Vienda, you can do better than that. I said, let’s have a show shall we?!” This time, a much more substational group called out their ‘yes’s, to which Baldur grinned.

“Fantastic! Then let the show….begin!” The spotlight snapped off again, before a huge ball of flames exploded from the centre of the ring, people in the audience gasping with surprise. The lights came on, a dim mix of purples and reds, to reveal Dorian grinning and holding two batons. From the darkness, hidden from the audiences view, the band began to play a dramatic tune as the fire breathing, sword swallowing contortionist began his act.

Backstage, Baldur panted as he took of his hat and wiped his brow, peeking between the curtains at the sound of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhh’ from the spectators as Dorian juggled and spun the batons he had now lit on fire. Turning back, he grinned and put his hat back on. They had started, finally, they had started. The stout bald man could almost cry with joy. A full house meant full bellies for his troupe, and if things went right today, this could be their step into a comfortable life.

Baldur was as proud as any father would be of their children. His circus, his troupe. His family, his home.

The sounds of disgust and squeals of delight from the children told him Dorian had shifted to contortion, and a quick glance revealed the brown haired human twisted in the most unnatural ways, a huge grin on his handsome face. It would be Baldur’s time to step back into the ring soon, to introduce the next act. He looked over at a young wick that had joined them in the city, only a child by any standards, carrying a tray of wooden cups filled with a cold non-alcoholic drink. Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder.

“Remember pet, it’s a hat for a cup. Try not to get in anyone’s way, and smile. You’ve got a pretty smile.” The child beamed, nodded, and disappeared off to the side to peddle her drinks amongst the seated audience. Another sound, this one of wonder, signaled Dorian was swallowing sharp pointy objects. Baldur took a deep breath , grasped his cane, and watched carefully for his que.
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Thu Oct 18, 2018 11:09 am

25th of Yaris, 2718
THE VIENDA RIOT OF 2718
By the time the sun had risen above the buildings that crowded the Dives, baking the already parched cobblestones and coating everything in a heated shimmer, the bazaar was bustling. Wicks and humans alike, even a handful of galdori (though they wore the green uniform of the Seventen instead of the fine clothes of ordinary customers), waded through the sweltering late morning, shopping or simply commuting from one place to the next. Somewhere in the full marketplace, a child cried, a dog barked, and a few moas cried out despondently above the din of voices and the catcalls of vendors hawking their wares in the hopes of making their quota early and getting out of the heat as soon as possible.

”Clocking hell, it’s a hot one, Constable.” The Seventen were on foot today, for it was considered too hot for chroven, the temperament of even the most tame of the black beasts unpredictable when overheated and in duress.

”Yes, and another house of this damned patrol, too.” Grumbled the other galdor, her hand moving to toss hair from her face and wipe sweat with the back of her hand, field tense as they passed a crowd of young wicks—probably tyat—who glared at the two officers with disturbing intensity.

It was as they passed the youths that a cart ahead of them seemed to collapse of its own accord, beautifully hand-spun and glazed cups, mugs, bowls, and a handful of heavy clay pots clattering to the cobblestones to shatter in millions of tiny pieces while a shout rose up from the vicinity, murmurs of what could have been an argument exploding into loud voices,

”Lookit whatchu did, tryin’a move m’ kint jus’ ‘cause ye think th’ space be yers. Clockin’ Red Eye, yer folk’s all th’ same. Didn’t ye chen yer own Durg inna Surwood?” A young witch hissed, her dreadlocked head snapping up from behind the overturned cart as she all but lunged at the burly older wick with his food cart next to her. The man had, in fact, used his hip to shove her humble cart over half a foot, unwittingly setting it down on uneven cobblestones and causing the top-heavy, clay-laden contraption to topple.

”Epaemo! I didn’t mean t—” He was holding his hands up and attempting to back away from the angry witch when a rough hand shoved him from behind,

”Oes, sure ye didn’t. Jus’ can’t get o’er whose got th’ best spots, eh? Y’ gonna pay for all that, kov?” An older witch with a ladle in hand shook it at him.

”Pay? It were ‘n accident. I don’t have that kind o’ ging!” The Red Eye groaned, reaching to catch the angry young witch before she tackled him, curling calloused fingers into her bare shoulder until she whined and holding her aside. He looked up at the approaching Seventen with a curl of his lip, ”Now look’t what yer whinin’ did. An auntie an’ an uncle comin’ t’ give ‘s spitch—”

”Vrunta! This ent yer business, jents!”
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Thu Oct 18, 2018 11:10 am

25th of Yaris, 2718
THE VIENDA RIOT OF 2718
“Amazing! Truly amazing! Who’s have thought that even possible, right folks? Remember, there’s no magic or tricks in Baldur’s, what you see folks is all real. So please, don’t try this at home!” Baldur boomed as he marched back to centre ring, grinning at the mixture of applause and disgust in the crowd. Dorian bowed theatrically, waving with a huge smile as he bounded offstage. The ring master tapped his cane on the ground, bouncing it up and catching it with a flourish, before pointing at the crowd.

“I’m sure after that act, a few of you may need something a little less confronting to watch. Maybe you, young lady?” Baldur walked towards the barrier, holding a hand out to a golden curled child dressed in a garish pink gown. She extended her hand with a giggle, the older woman beside her frowning at the ring master, her field simmering. Ignoring the parent, Baldur knelt down and shook her hand.

“Well aren’t you lovely! I bet you love pretty things, yes? Of course you do! Who doesn’t really?” The little girl beamed, much to her mother’s annoyance, nodding enthusiastically. Baldur grinned, fishing a small trinket from his pocket. It was a wooden carved dancer, painted in vibrant colors and arching her arms up like mid pirouette. Handing it to the young galdor, the stout human stood with a wink, sweeping the crowd with his outstretched arms before directing them to the ceiling.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to cast your eyes skyward, we call this one Beauty…” From backstage, Clarabelle snarled viciously, the sound tearing through the silence as the lights dimmed again.

“…and the Beast.” He said with a devilish grin, before hurrying backstage as the soft almost exotic music began to pick up.

Outside, the vendors that had set up shop outside the circus served the stragglers, whilst also chatting to each other from their stalls.

“I hear tha’ ye ol’ daoa bonded again Villie?” A middle aged wick with braided greying locks called out from his stall of bright garish scarves, nodding at the much younger shaved and tattooed wick working the onna-stick stand. The young man grinned, handing a stick to a customer and nodding back at the other.

“Yeah, third one in as many maw Baz. Ent sure if she’s ever gonna settle again after da left. Ent no kov quite right t’seems. I told her, I said daoa—“ He paused mid sentence, turning his head towards the Vienda city gates with a curious frown.

“Did ye hear something?” Baz made a face, turning around to glance at the gates as well.

“Hrm? Ne? Y’gettin’ jumpy Villie? Writ not up t’scratch?” He chuckled cheekily, looking back at the younger wick and thumbing his nose. Villie made a face, throwing the middle finger at his counterpart and shaking his head.

“Get off it y’kenser. My writ’s just fine. I—there! I heard it again. Shoutin’ maybe?” From the gold and blue tent, shrieks and gasps sounded, followed by applause and some laughter. Baz waved a hand at the tent.

“S’just th’jents inside y’moony erse. Ent nothin’ to—oh.” He heard it then, the faint sound that carried through the still humid Yaris air. Standing out of his seat, the scarf merchant looked back at the gates, scratching his head.

“Maybe a blackback caught someone n’crosstown stealin’ again. Those spokes, y’chen, from Surwood. Ent city wicks, s’they think they can take wha’ever they like.” Villie chewed on his lip, grunting a sound of agreement, before turning to his approaching customer with a welcoming smile.

“Ent our business then. G’day rosh, what can I get ye?”
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Thu Oct 18, 2018 11:11 am

25th of Yaris, 2718
THE VIENDA RIOT OF 2718
No one had paused to stare at the body of the first Seventen as he crumpled to the baking street that wove its way through the bazaar in the Dives after the sickening crack of a well-aimed cobblestone rang off of his magically superior skull. The red-headed officer dropped without a sound leaving his lips, and the Yellow Eye vendor two carts away who’d tossed the projectile cackled,

“Havakda! We can handle our own problems, uncle.”

“Damn right we can.” Sniggered a Red Crow witch on the other side of the invisible but well-understood boundary between tribal vending territories as so haphazardly laid out in the humble square surrounded by dilapidated buildings. Instead of threatening the other officer, however, she leapt across the line and tackled the other wick to the ground, “Ye selfish toft, now we’re all gonna spend time in th’ brig o’er nothin’ but where t’ stand on th’ clockin’ street. Here, officer, he’s ready for arrest—hey—”

The panicked remaining Seventen had reached for her the moment she landed on her tribal enemy, his shaking hands snatching for her and the mumbled words of her formal arrest tumbling from his lips, slowly raising in volume until finally he shouted, “You’re all under arrest! Everyone put your hands where I can see them—”

“This is all your fault.”

“No, this is the fault of the Crows.”

“If you Eyes could just see where your own allotted spaces were, none of this would have ever happened.”

It was only a matter of moments before what had begun as a simple verbal disagreement quickly ignited into violence. The heat had seared its way into their minds and all the peaceful promises of Surwood’s wick festival in Bethas were swiftly forgotten, consumed by the fires of discontentment as the small square all but erupted into a violent riot. It seemed simple enough, at first, to place the blame on the Red Crow and the Yellow Eye wicks who drew their weapons and attacked each other, but soon their bloody fighting caught the attention of the residents of the Dives who had waited perhaps all summer for an excuse to break into fighting of their own.

The fallen Seventen was forgotten, his companion trampled in the rage that was released from the oppressed masses. The riot spread up the streets and spilled throughout the Dives, and even though it had originated in tribal territorial discontent between the nomadic wicks who’d come to Vienda to trade as they’d always been welcome to do, the moment gave opportunity to anyone who chose to snatch at it: tsats and humans alike, Resistance wannabes and actual members, thieves and other such ne’er-do-wells found their moment in the conflagration that erupted in the sweltering capitol.

This wasn’t the first riot and it wouldn’t be the last, but the force by which this one accelerated would be talked about for seasons to come, especially once it drifted outside the city walls and crept toward the outlaying areas, especially among the tribal wicks who gathered outside Vienda proper when they had no goods to sell and when they had no writs to enter the gates. The Red Crow and Yellow Eye were particularly violent, leaving actual bodies in their wake in a shameful display of just how far old grudges could carry into the present despite the pressing, desperate need for unity among a people who at least had the gift of sovereignty that those who lived oppressed lives in the city did not.

The riot of Yaris 2718 was a force of nature all its own, one that would eventually require more than just the Seventen, but also the Anaxi Armed Forces to put down. The consequences, to be sure, would be severe, but in the aftermath of cleanup and recovery, no one was quite prepared for that truth even when it came.
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